He placed his hands over mine, then lifted my right hand to his bloodied lips and kissed the knuckles.
Without another word, he turned and left.
I stood in the doorway watching him as he walked through the crowded street and realized that he was wrong. He did have dignity. He walked down the street with all the proud bearing of a king.
May 17, 9529 BC
I was in the market square today, shopping with my maid Sera when I saw an exceptionally tall man pass by me. At first I thought it was Styxx, especially when a sudden gust of wind blew the cowl off of his head and I saw his incredibly handsome face.
But as I started to call out to him, I noticed that he wore the scarlet chiton of a prostitute-it was forbidden by law for prostitutes to appear in public wearing anything else and their heads must always be kept covered. If a practicing prostitute was caught mixing with people without that mode of dress to warn "decent" people what they were, they could be executed on sight.
Acheron quickly covered his head again as he moved through the crowd.
He looked much better than he had the last time I'd seen him. His skin was golden and tanned, and he was no longer painfully thin. His chiton covered one shoulder, leaving the other bare. An engraved golden cuff encircled his left biceps over an arm that finally had serious muscle to it.
My word, he was without a doubt the most handsome of men-even if he was my brother. I'd have to be blind not to notice.
Leaving Sera to browse over cloth, I followed after him, so grateful to find him alive and well.
But it broke my heart that he was still selling himself.
He met an attractive older woman at one of the booths who held a ring up to him.
"Does this fit?" she asked.
He handed it back to her. "I don't want a ring, Catera. But I thank you for the thought."
She returned the ring to the vendor, then ran her hand up and down his bare arm in an intimate caress.
A lover's caress.
He didn't react to it at all.
"My precious Acheron," she said with a laugh. "You're so unlike my other employees. You take only what you earn and nothing more and you tip every servant at the stew which is why they're so kind to you. I don't think I'll ever understand you." She took his hand and led him through the booths. "A word of wisdom to you, akribos, you need to learn to accept gifts."
He scoffed at her words. "There's no such thing as a gift. If I were to take that from you, sooner or later you would ask a favor from me in return. Nothing in life is ever truly given without expectation."
Catera tsked at him. "You are far too young to be so jaded. Whatever did they do to you to make you so suspicious?"
He didn't say anything.
But in my heart, I knew the horrors of his past. Knew what had stolen his trust. No doubt I was one of the key factors that had turned him into this bitter stranger I barely recognized.
As they walked, the woman chatted endlessly, trying to entice him to notice other trinkets and such. He would only look at them silently, then turn away.
I stayed back, making sure they didn't notice me. Not that it was difficult. Acheron kept his eyes cast down as if unwilling to look at anyone around him while Catera saw only him.
A man came up to them and pulled her aside.
Acheron wandered a few booths over while they spoke. It hurt me to watch him. To see the way the vendors curled their lips at his approach. The way "decent" people averted their eyes or looked scornfully at his clothes.
But even more horrifying than that was the way their expressions shifted the moment they saw his face. The blazing hot lust was undeniable. The intensity of it frightening.
Little did they know that but for an accident of birth and my father's unfounded hatred, Acheron would have been their future king.
It made me seethe and at the same time, there was nothing I could do to help.
How I hated being born a woman in a world where women were barely one step up from dirt.