"Yes," I said. "We sometimes dine with them like that." But Acheron never had. Even when he'd been at home with us, he'd been banned from the family table.
After that, he didn't speak. Nor did he look at the family. He merely ate with those impeccable manners of his.
I choked down a few bites, but found I wasn't very hungry after all.
I took us back to our quarters to wait for the driver to finish his rest and feeding the horses. It was nearing dusk and I wasn't sure if we would continue to travel through the evening or not.
I sat down on the small chair and closed my eyes to rest. It had been a long day. I'd only arrived in Atlantis that morning and hadn't anticipated so quick a return. Not to mention the undue stress of stealing my brother away from my uncle. At the moment, all I wanted was to sleep.
I felt Acheron in front of me.
Opening my eyes, I saw him naked again save for his bands.
I frowned at him. "What are you doing?"
"I owe you for my food and clothes, my lady." He knelt down at my feet and lifted the hem of my himation.
I bolted upright and grabbed his hand. "You don't touch family like that, Acheron. It's wrong."
Confusion creased his brow.
And then I knew the most horrid of truths. "Estes . . . does he . . . Do you . . ." I couldn't bring myself to say the words.
"I pay him every night for being kind enough to shelter me."
I'd never wanted to cry so much in my life and yet I found my eyes strangely dry-even as anger and disgust welled inside me over what had been done to my brother. Oh, if I could only lay hands to my uncle . . . "Put your clothes on, Acheron. I have no need of you to pay me for anything."
He left me and did as I asked.
For the rest of the evening, I watched him while he sat silently in the corner without moving even a single muscle. Obviously he'd been trained to do that, too. I walked my mind through the horrors of the day's revelations.
Through the horror that must have been his life.
My poor Acheron.
I told him how glad father would be to welcome him home. How happy mother would be to see him again.
I told him stories of our palace and of how grand his room would be.
He listened silently while his eyes told me he didn't believe a single word I spoke.
Whores don't live in palaces.
I could hear his thoughts plainly.
And honestly, I was beginning to doubt those words myself.
November 4, 9532 BC
Acheron remained so silent for the rest of our journey to the docks that I began to worry. He didn't look well. In fact, he was prone to break into a sweat and shake for no apparent reason. There was an awful ashen cast to his skin.
Whenever I asked if something was the matter, he would only say that it sometimes happened to him.
As we were around more people, he became more nervous.
"Estes won't find you," I told him, hoping to alleviate his fear.
It didn't work. If anything, he grew more apprehensive.