His father tugged at Styxx's chiton until he'd exposed Styxx's left side and the vicious, puckered scars that marked him from armpit to thigh. For several seconds, his father said nothing as his gaze flitted over them, and then down to the scar on Styxx's forearm where the bastard had cut him, and finally to the scars his mother's tender loving hand had dealt him.
Thankfully, Styxx was bent so that the most horrifying scar that marked him as a whore was hidden from his father's gaze.
"You're excused," the king finally said to the scold.
Bowing, he left them.
His father swallowed hard. "I never really saw your body when you were at the Dionysion. I barely looked at your face."
Funny, it hadn't seemed that way to him. He would have sworn his father glared at his wounds with sick satisfaction.
His father covered Styxx's side with his chiton so he wouldn't have to see the scars anymore. "How many months were you there again?"
That question slapped him hard. "You don't remember?"
His father shook his head. "But you do, don't you?"
How could he ever forget? "Every heartbeat I spent there under the priests' tender care is branded into my memory, Father."
His father winced then untied his hands. You've been through enough, boy.
Styxx pushed himself up as his father left without another word.
His head pounding, Styxx made his way back to his room. He knew how bad the scars on the front of him were. How much worse were the ones on his back that his father had been so revolted by them?
I should ask the senators who've screwed me since they've seen them.
He pressed his hand to his skull, wishing he could squeeze his head until he drove it all out forever.
I can't take this anymore. He was too young to have this much horror. Too young to hurt like this when there was no end for it in sight. No way out ...
Damn you, Acheron.
Ever since his brother had thrown it in his face, he'd noticed how true Acheron's words were. The hungry stares from everyone who saw him. Looks and actions he'd assumed were from his being prince. But Acheron was right. People coveted his body even when they didn't know he had a title. And they were a lot more aggressive when they didn't know.
Even if he ran away, they would treat him just as his uncle had. Like a piece of savory meat on a banquet table. He'd become his brother....
A well-paid, overused whore.
Not that he wasn't already.
I just want one single moment of peace where my memories don't shred my soul. One day without pain.
With no better thought, he washed himself and changed his clothes then snuck past his guards to get his horse.
There was only one thought on his mind as he rode from the stable, toward the high shoreline.
To end this stygian nightmare once and for all.
* * *
Styxx cursed as he reined his horse and slid from the saddle so that he was on solid, nonmoving ground. "Ah, gods..." Why today of all days did he have to have one of his more vicious headaches?
It hurt so badly he couldn't even breathe. And then it started ...
That damned nosebleed.
Unable to stand it, he sank to his knees and didn't bother trying to stop his nose. Pressing his hand to his eye, he stared out at the sea far below. The waves crashed against jagged rocks. It looked so soothing and pleasant.