Chapter 9 #2
“So no, dear cousins,” Nik added with a sharp smile, “I did not in fact know how hard it was for you both, and by the Giver’s tits, I don’t fucking care.”
Despoina winced, shooting a dark look at her brother before turning back to Nik. “Gods… we’re sorry, Nikander. We didn’t know about your father. My brother should really think before he runs his mouth.”
Nik gave her a curt nod. Danaos said nothing, his eyes fixed past them, jaw still clenched.
A tense silence settled over the group until Theo cleared his throat. “We should keep moving.”
Danaos pivoted towards the throne room. “I’ll come with you.”
Despoina arched an eyebrow. “The soldiers are waiting for you—”
“It won’t take long,” he grumbled, already walking ahead.
They followed him in silence, sandals tapping in an uneven cadence, the sound carrying through the colonnaded hall.
At last, they arrived at a pair of towering bronze doors, flanked by six guards who stepped aside and swung them open.
Danaos paused at the threshold, scanning the throne room for someone. When he caught Nik watching, his expression hardened. Without a word, he gave a short nod and disappeared down a side corridor.
Despoina let out a slow breath, then gestured them inside.
The throne room was no less grand than Megara’s, at least from what Nik could recall.
A vast space unfolded before them, the high ceiling held aloft by sandstone columns carved with battle scenes.
Frescoes of the Achaean Twelve and their heroes covered the walls in vivid, painstaking detail.
Shafts of sunlight poured through tall slits, casting golden light across a geometric mosaic floor.
At the far end, a raised dais held the throne, sculpted from marble and inlaid with gold and precious stones.
Charis sat there, draped in a flowing silk chiton and a pure white cloak stitched with gold thread.
As Nik approached, the light caught the gleam of her diadem, the heavy necklace at her throat, and the ornate pins at her shoulders.
Though she smiled warmly, she looked untouchable—draped in gold and silk like a goddess enthroned.
Leukos looked every bit the royal beside her, clad in armour and a white cloak stitched with silver and blue. He wore no crown, but he didn’t need one. He always carried himself with quiet authority.
A long time ago, Nik had envied him: the third prince of Megara, handsome, well-mannered, effortlessly respected. In the palace, some had whispered about his Gift, but never to his face. He was still a prince.
Nik, on the other hand, had been the son of a Silver Shield who’d married a frail merchant’s daughter for love. The court had tolerated him at best. He’d done everything to win their approval—even obeyed his father’s orders, thinking it might help end the siege.
But that was all in the past.
Nik no longer envied Leukos. The usual gleam in his dark gaze had dimmed, replaced by the hollow sheen of too many sleepless nights and too much weight on his shoulders. He was a prince bound to marry a woman he didn’t love, leading a rebellion that depended on a Gift he might be losing.
And still, he stood tall.
Nik had promised Alena he’d look after him, and he would.
Leukos had once been like a brother to him. And against all odds, he’d given Nik a chance to set things right.
Nik refused to botch it.
With Theo, he dropped to one knee before Charis.
“Good, you’re both here,” she said, gesturing for them to rise.
She turned to Leukos, her gold earrings chiming softly as she inclined her head for him to take over.
From what little Nik had seen, Charis struck him as a fair ruler and a true ally to Leukos. He’d often caught them in quiet conversation during meals, heads bent together, her calm presence drawing a rare smile from the prince.
They’d known each other for a long time. After the massacre, it was Charis who’d harboured Leukos, Theo, Nisos, and Pelagios—keeping them safe in Tiryns, helping them build the rebellion from the shadows.
Tiryns’ council, however, was another matter. At least, according to Theo.
Leukos’ dark gaze landed on Nik. “We’re heading out on an expedition.”
“We?” Nik asked, brows lifting. Beside him, Theo looked just as caught off guard. “Where?”
“The mountains near the Thracian border.” He glanced back at Charis. “I’d go alone, but apparently I require supervision.”
Charis maintained a composed smile. “I know you can handle yourself, Leukos. But what would my council say if I let my future husband charge into danger days before our wedding?”
Leukos gave her a flat look. “They’d probably throw a feast.”
Her hand lifted to her lips, poorly masking the smile that slipped through. “Don’t be silly. Tiryns would be heartbroken.”
Somehow, Nik doubted the city would care either way if Leukos were to perish. The rebellion hadn’t done much for them yet.
Nik cocked his head. “So I’m going as your personal guard?”
“Yes.”
A grin tugged at his lips. “Like a Silver Shield?”
Leukos’ expression hardened. “Don’t push it.”
Nik smirked, ready to push it anyway, but Theo—ever the diplomat—stepped in. “An expedition beyond the barrier?” He glanced at Charis. “Is that even possible?”
The queen looked between Nik’s grin and Leukos’ withering stare with mild concern before giving a composed nod. “Oh yes. Thanks to Danaos and Despoina, it is. They regularly travel with palace servants to Argos or other large city markets to bring back food and anything else we might need.”
Nik’s brow lifted. That explained the occasional appearance of mutton and fish on the palace menu, siege or no siege.
“The twins will use their Gift to take us to the foot of the mountains,” Leukos added. “Nik and I will handle the climb. If all goes to plan, we’ll be back in a day or two.”
Theo folded his arms. “And what will you tell the others?” His tone was light, but the pointed look he gave Leukos made it clear he hadn’t been consulted about this sudden expedition.
“I need you to keep Xanthos and Pelagios occupied while I’m gone,” Leukos answered. “Make sure they don’t notice my absence.”
“And what exactly are we going to do?” Nik asked, scratching the stubble on his cheek. Winter hadn’t left the mountains yet, and he didn’t particularly fancy a trip slogging through snow. “It’s a bit cold for hunting and sleeping under the stars—unless you plan to share body heat…”
He threw Leukos a wink. The prince’s jaw tightened right on cue.
Theo stifled a snort.
Charis’ eyes widened, slightly aghast, before turning to Leukos. “Is he always like this?”
Leukos crossed his arms. “Unfortunately, yes.” Then, after a beat, he added, “But I trust him with my life.”
The grin slid from Nik’s face. Leukos’ eyes didn’t waver, and Nik gave a small nod in return. After Bruna, the Western Lands, and now Tiryns, he would keep standing at Leukos’ side—no question. But hearing Leukos acknowledge it out loud? That meant more than he cared to admit.
Theo glanced between them, a ridiculous grin splitting his face. “So, when are you leaving?”
“First thing tomorrow morning.” After a moment, Leukos added, “Dress warmly.”
Worry flitted across Charis’ face. “And bring weapons,” she said. “We’ve had reports of slavers roaming the lands, taking any and all without protection to the quarries. Best to be cautious.”
Nik flashed her his most charming smile.
“Fear not, Your Majesty. We’ll bring plenty of weapons in case of an attack from the Rasennans, slavers, and whatever it is we’ll find in the mountains.
” He shot Leukos a pointed look. The bastard still hadn’t answered his question.
What could they possibly be doing in the godsdamned mountains at the end of winter?
Leukos smirked. “Your sword will be useless against him.”
“Him?” An uneasy feeling settled in Nik’s gut. “Who are we going to meet?”
“The North Wind.”