That’s when I knew Axios loved King Agesipolis—or Agis, as he called him. Not in the way he loved me, no. But he loved him.
“Which of you is Axios?” she then asked. “He keeps saying the name in his sleep, and when he wakes, that is all I can decipher from his incoherent mumblings.”
Axios stared at the door with tears in his eyes. I squeezed his hand, and he looked at me. It took him a second to focus on my face.
“Go,” I said, giving his hand one last squeeze before releasing it. “We will wait here.”
He stepped forward as the woman opened the door for him. Once he was inside, she closed it and gave us a sad smile.
“Thank you for all you’ve done,” I told her.
“My pleasure,” she said. “I only wish I could’ve done more. He truly is a kind man. I have not met another one like him.” She cast a sad glance at the door. “And I doubt I ever shall again.”
She excused herself and went down the corridor before disappearing inside another room.
“I didn’t know our king and Axios were so familiar,” Haden said, moving his gray-eyed stare to me. That one look held so much weight behind it.
“There’s nothing more for us to do here,” I said, glancing at the door before turning and walking the other way.
The three of them spoke quietly behind me, and I heard the wordloverleave their lips. My fist clenched at my side and I kept walking.
Axios stayed with the king all day and late into the evening. When he returned to our quarters, he was withdrawn. He said very little as he lay at my side and pressed his face against my neck. Warm tears fell on my skin.
“How is he?” I asked, although I knew the question to be silly. If the king was well, Axios would not be so somber.
“He’s so weak, Ery,” he whispered, holding me tighter. “It pains my heart to see him reduced to this.”
And it pained mine to see Axios so upset over it.
The next morning, Axios asked me to accompany him to the king’s chamber. He clung to my hand as we entered the room, and I knew he needed my closeness to keep himself from falling apart.
King Agesipolis rested in a large bed, surrounded by pillows. An archway on one side of the room led to a small atrium filled with plants, a fountain, and an opening to let in the sun. The peacefulness of it only added to the tragedy.
“Axios?” the king croaked, his eyelids fluttering open before closing again.
Axios approached the bed with me a few steps behind him. “I’m here.”
“I ask a favor,” he whispered before violently coughing into the soiled cloth in his shaking hand. Blood trickled from his lips once he’d settled back on the bed. “The shrine of Dionysius… I wish to rest in the shade of the trees.” His eyes closed and his breathing slowed. “To feel the cool water on my skin.”
A dying man’s final request.
The sanctuary he spoke of was indeed a remarkable place. Axios had mentioned enjoying strolling through the shrine on several occasions, commenting on the beauty of the trees and the sparkling pools of crystal-clear water.
“I will help you carry him,” I said, nodding to Axios.
The king was lighter than expected as we moved him to the sanctuary. The signs of his ailing health had all been present over the weeks, now that I reflected on the times he’d sat at the dining table, picking at his food instead of eating it. How his skin had lost its glow.
“You aren’t staying?” Axios asked, after we had laid the king beneath the shade of the largest tree.
I shook my head. “I wish to give you privacy.”
To say goodbye, I thought, though didn’t say it aloud.
I bowed my head before leaving the sanctuary. Once I was out of their line of sight, I turned back. Axios sat in the grass and rested the king’s head in his lap, his expression consumed with grief. Agesipolis mumbled incoherently and stared up at him.
“The king should be in his chamber,” a voice said from behind me.
I met the gaze of one of the advisors. Two of them had traveled with us to Aphytis, while the others had stayed in Torone with the army.