Page 103 of Axios
Theon and Quill did the same, but went to the same bed instead of separate ones. When they caught me looking at them—likely with curiosity marking my features—Quill rolled his eyes.
“Why do you stare?” he asked in a dry manner, removing his cloak before lying on the soft cushion. “You should be all too familiar with boys bedding each other by now.”
I quirked a brow. “So you twoarebedding?”
Theon shot me a grin before quickly pursing his lips when Quill caught him.
I needed no answer to confirm my assumption… not as if it mattered. They were clearly made for the other, and it seemed as if everyone—apart from them—had known it for many years.
“Any news on our king?” Theon asked as he snuggled in beside Quill, nestling his cheek on Quill’s chest.
“Not as of yet,” Eryx answered, stilling the hand that had been tracing the outline of my abdominal muscles. “Perhaps we will know more on the morrow.”
***
Word reached us the next day. We had all woken and were in the dining hall for morning meal when Pyrrhus approached.
I had been pleasantly surprised when I’d discovered he and the other helots were treated with care while in the city. The people there did not look upon them as slaves, nor did they mistreat them. They had even been given their own quarters.
“Pardon my intrusion,” he said once at the edge of the table, lowering his gaze to the floor. “I was sent to retrieve you.”
His pale hair had grown longer during our stay in Aphytis and swooped over his brow and fell a little into his blue eyes. The silky strands were straight, and I wondered if they felt as soft as they looked.
“For what purpose?” Eryx asked, studying him.
“To see your king, sir,” Pyrrhus answered, still in a submissive stance but with an unwavering tone. “His condition has turned for the worse.”
My heart raced wildly and a weight settled in my chest at his words.
“Thank you, Pyrrhus,” I said, standing from my seat.
He glanced up at me in shock, and I suspected it was because I not only addressed him by his name but had also remembered it.
“You are dismissed,” Eryx said to him, but I had already started leaving the hall.
As I headed toward the chambers where Agesipolis lay bedridden, my friends walked with me, and we strode through the corridors in silence.
Sun streamed in through the window openings, as did a gentle breeze that caressed my face, but my mind was elsewhere and not able to appreciate the beauty of the day. The man who reminded me of such mornings was ill and fading like light when chased by shadow.
Reaching the room, a woman exited from it and looked at us. Her grim face spoke wonders before she even uttered a single word.
“How does he fare?” Eryx asked, breaking the silence and asking the question I had been too nervous to ask.
“We have done all we can to ease his pain,” she said, folding her hands in front of her. “Yet, I am afraid that is all we can do. His burning fever will not break, even after making him elixirs from bark of the healing trees and having him drink. He continues to perspire and shake with chills, and his mind is slipping. There are moments where he speaks nonsense and there are others where he is himself once more. With fortune on our side and mercy from the gods, his condition may improve, but it is my belief his time with us is nearly at an end.”
I’d heard tales of men who’d been struck with such a fever that took them in only a few days’ time—the same one that seemed to have its claws in my king.
“You are certain?” Haden asked.
When she nodded, a hollowing began in my stomach.
“Which of you is Axios?” she asked, glancing between us. “He keeps saying the name in his sleep, and when he wakes, that is all I can decipher from his incoherent mumblings.”
Eryx squeezed my hand, and I realized I’d been staring at the door with tears in my eyes.
I turned to him, and he nodded.
“Go. We will wait here.”
