38. Secrets
38
Secrets
Theron
Theron frowned at the tunics laid out on his bed. None of them appealed to him, even though he’d spent ages selecting them. White? Too ordinary. Black? Too formal. And the purple one is too loud…
The door of his chamber creaked open, and Lykos strolled in without knocking—the only man in the Palace afforded such a privilege, or rather, Xanthos was too official to ever do it. “Evening, Majesty,” he said, taking in the tunics. “Struggling with fashion choices?”
Theron cut him a look. “Unlike some, clearly. Who are you dressed up for?”
“Does it matter?” Lykos sprawled in the armchair by the bed, impeccable in his black leather breastplate embossed with golden lions, his dark hair swept back. “Just wanted to confirm, in the unlikely case you wonder, that your court is heaving with incredulity over what happened this afternoon.”
“Heaving with incredulity,” Theron repeated slowly. “What an interesting word choice.”
“Dwell on my word choices as much as you like, but the rest of the Assembly discussion had little to do with matters of state, and everything to do with your assault on Solon.”
“That wasn’t an assault, or there wouldn’t be much left of him.”
Lykos’ narrowed his eyes. “It’s also now common knowledge that you won’t be attending the Poetry Evening, which I would have appreciated knowing in advance. As your humble polemarchos. ”
“Shouldn’t you be happy that I’ll be in a much less dangerous setting than the Poetry Evening?”
“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it. I doubt this was Xanthos’ advice. Who, by the way, had to deal with that mess after you stormed out of the Antechamber and is probably nursing a headache somewhere.”
“It’s interesting to see how everyone is against me spending one evening the way I like.” Theron crossed his arms. “Including you.”
“Could it be because of your highly unusual behavior?” Lykos arched his brow. “Such as assaulting your father-in-law in front of the most prominent members of the aristocratic Houses? Or ignoring an official function that had been organized months in advance for a supper with a woman who’s rumored to be your mistress?”
Theron shrugged.
“And then… where is Kassandros? I haven’t seen him in the last few days.”
“I’ve sent him on a mission for me.”
“What kind of mission?”
Theron exhaled. There we go. “Nothing political. Just a simple request I’m sure he’ll handle well and will give him a little break from here.”
“On his own?” Lykos drummed his fingers on the armrest. “Where to?”
“The Mount Peliosa region.”
“Mount Peliosa…” His friend leaned forth, placing his elbows on his thighs. “Ah, Aganeeios. Something to do with Calliste again?”
Theron didn’t reply.
“I see.” Lykos scanned the bedroom, his eyes falling on the nightstand beside the bed. He tilted his head at the intricately crafted pieces glinting against the black material. “And this?”
I should have closed that box. “Look, but don’t touch.”
“Huh. Pretty. You hired Pyrakmon to craft it, didn’t you?”
Theron cast him a surprised glance.
“What? How would I know what the captain of your sentinels should be aware of? Pyrakmon, the city’s most sought-after and prohibitively expensive jeweler, visited the Palace seven days ago, and then yesterday. The last time he made so many trips here was when you were courting Amatheia. That tells me this is more than just an ordinary supper.”
“It’s just a supper. This is just a little sign of appreciation. What in the pits of Tartarus do you want?” Theron snapped.
“I want you to explain what is going on. Are you now courting Calliste? What about Eumelia?”
“Nothing,” Theron replied coldly.
Lykos sprang from the armchair and paced back and forth before stopping in front of him. “You have spent nearly a year showing favor to Eumelia only to suddenly discard her?”
“I’m not discarding her. She remains my court musician.”
“But you’ve been courting her. Weren’t you? It was obvious. And now that you switched your attention to Calliste…” Lykos trailed off, then added in a hushed tone, “This is going to be a public humiliation for Eumelia.”
“And this is coming from someone who has more notches on his belt than he can count?”
“No woman I pursued was a High Priestess. Or someone else’s wife.”
They glared at each other in chilly silence. “That’s why I’m telling you this is just a supper,” Theron growled, but his chest ached, and he sat heavily on the bed, rubbing his face. “Can we not just leave it?”
“Not for your sake. Not when I have no idea what you’re up to.”
“Damn it.” Theron shut his eyes.
Another moment passed between them before Lykos’ voice cut through the silence, much calmer than before. “Speak to me.”
He shook his head, suddenly regretting the whole idea of the supper. “You won’t understand.”
“Try me.”
Theron exhaled. “The Houses have been throwing their eligible daughters at me ever since my mourning period has passed.”
“I remember.”
“I couldn’t bring myself to choose.” He rubbed his temples, wishing he could tell Lykos the whole truth. But he still couldn’t. “They all lacked something.” None of those girls understood pain and loss or were able to pull through tragedies like me and Calliste could. “And Calliste…” She fights for Kalias, hard, and not for the sake of preserving her reputation, gaining riches, or my favor. She fights for him like a mother.
“Calliste is different,” Lykos said calmly. “But she’s not affair material. And neither are you.”
“I know.” I don’t want to ruin her future. Not worth a night of passion.
“And now you’re brooding.” Lykos’ voice pulled him out of his unhappy thoughts. “I hate it when you’re brooding. Just explain to me why you’re treating Eumelia like this…” He trailed off at the knock on the door.
“Xanthos?” Theron stilled at his advisor’s somber expression. “Found anything?”
Xanthos’ brows rose as he looked at Lykos.
“It’s fine,” Theron said impatiently. “Any news?”
“My friend at Hera’s Temple granted me access to the marital records. I managed to find Calliste’s.”
His mouth was dry. “But that’s a huge library with a mountain of scrolls. How did you do it?”
Xanthos smiled, but the concern in his eyes was evident. “I started with one small register and her name was there.”
“What register?”
“The divorce register.”
Divorced. She’s divorced? Heat surged through his chest, burning in the hollow of his throat. “Who filed for divorce?”
“Her husband, right after the war.”
Eight years ago. All that time, it was somehow as if he’d been waiting for that answer. The heat from the chest spread through his limbs. She’s not married. “Is he still alive?”
“I’ll start tracking him down tomorrow. Meanwhile…” He handed him a scroll bearing the Temple of Hera’s seal. “These are Calliste’s divorce papers. The only record that exists.”
Theron weighed the document in his hand. “How much did you have to pay?”
“Less than I expected. Probably because she didn’t suspect its worth.” Then he added in a quiet voice, “Calliste’s husband—Ariston is his name—gave a short explanation with his reasons for divorcing her, as required by law. Have a look.”
Theron broke the seal and scanned the parchment until he’d found it. His breath slowed as he stared. Then he looked up to meet Xanthos’ gaze. “Thank you. Keep me updated on her husband.”
“I will.” Xanthos glanced at the tunics spread across the bed. “If you need my advice, none of these are suitable for supper with Calliste.”
“Great minds,” Lykos quipped, but his face was serious as he fixed his eyes on the scroll Theron held in his hands.
Xanthos smiled thinly. “If this is at the first evening hour, I suggest you hurry. It’s soon.” His departure was quiet as usual.
Theron still stared at the reasons Calliste’s husband cited for breaking up their union, a thousand thoughts whirling through his head.
“Theron.” Lykos cleared his throat.
“What?”
“Can I look?”
“No. Not yet. Let me digest it.”
Lykos’ jaw ticked. “Why? Is it bad?”
“Some of it… I didn’t expect at all.”
“So what are you planning?”
I truly don’t know. He stared at the paper, frantically trying to piece everything together, wishing for more time to analyze it.
“Theron,” Lykos growled. “Even if it’s just a supper, which we both know it’s not , inviting Eumelia is a bit cold-hearted, don’t you think?”
Theron looked up from the paper. “Why do you care about Eumelia’s feelings all of a sudden?”
“It’s just common decency, Theron. She deserves better than that.”
“I assure you that she’ll be fine, and you don’t have to understand everything.” Theron frowned again at the parchment and the reasons that had turned everything upside down, barely registering what Lykos had said before the door slammed shut behind him.