Page 76 of Beneath Scarred Vows
"I'm actually here to have lunch with you," he says, gesturing toward the house. "I'm having it brought out to us, if that's alright with you."
A smile spreads across my face before I can stop it—wide and genuine.
"Oh," I say, already closing my sketchbook. "Of course. I'll put this away."
"No," Ares says, raising his hand. "Don't. I want to watch you in your element, if that's okay."
The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard. I feel a warm flush creep up my neck.
"You… you want to watch me draw?" I ask, not quite believing him.
Ares leans forward, elbows on the table, his eyes intense but soft. "I want to see what makes you light up, Katerina. I've seen glimpses of it, but never for long enough."
I swallow hard, unsure how to respond. It's disarming to have this powerful man showing interest in something as simple as my sketching.
"I'm not sure it's that interesting to watch," I say, reopening my sketchbook with hesitant fingers.
Ares leans back, settling into his chair. "Let me be the judge of that."
Emma approaches with a tray, setting down a carafe of iced tea and two glasses brimming with ice and lemon slices. "Lunch will be ready in about fifteen minutes, Mr. Kastaris," she says.
"Thank you, Emma," Ares says without taking his eyes off me.
The ice clinks against glass as Emma pours us both tea before walking away.
"So," I say, picking up my pencil again, "what brought this on? You're not exactly known for taking midday breaks."
Ares takes a long sip of his tea before answering. "Theo and Dimitri suggested I take some time to refocus."
"Refocus," I repeat, raising an eyebrow. "That's a very diplomatic way of saying what I've been telling you—that you're working too much."
A half-smile tugs at his lips. "Yes, and between you and me, it was more you saying it than my brothers, but we'll let them think they won here."
He looks away for a moment, toward the carefully manicured hedges that line the garden. I can see in his face he's trying to comprehend what everyone is telling him about how obsessed he's been.
I nod, returning to my sketch. My pencil traces the outline of a column as I consider his words. "I know it's a lot, but it's good to relax every now and then," I say carefully. "But I'm not running an empire."
Ares laughs but doesn't respond.
I continue drawing as Ares watches my every movement, but surprisingly, I don't feel self-conscious under his gaze.
"Does this relax you?" he asks.
I nod. "It always has. Even after..." I trail off for a second, "Even after the fire, when I was in constant pain for months becauseof the burns, I would just draw and it would make me forget the pain."
Ares's expression darkens momentarily. "And what did you draw, to help you forget?"
The question makes me pause, my pencil hovering over the paper.
What did I draw?
It seems like a lifetime ago.
"Flames," I answer truthfully. "I drew flames over and over. It was therapeutic, I guess. Trying to control on paper what had controlled me, changed my life, affected my body."
Ares is silent, watching me with an intensity that would once have made me nervous. Now, it makes me feel seen in a way I never have.
"And now?" he asks. "What does the Parthenon represent to you?"
