Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon
Requests
… He loved whenever his father used such words. As if Styxx had a choice in the matter. If he didn’t go, his father would be furious.
He shook his head to clear it then pushed himself to his feet.
The maid didn’t budge as he neared her. Instead of moving out of his way, she planted herself so that he’d have to brush up against her lush body to leave.
Biting her lip, she gave him a hot, needful look. “Would you like for me to prep your room while you’re away, Highness? I could easily be here on your return.”
I’d make the best mistress you’ve ever seen. I could and would gladly suck your nectar until you’re blind from it.…
She was beautiful and tempting. But right now, his mark was still plainly obvious. He’d been lucky the physician hadn’t seen it. The last thing he wanted was her gossiping to the rest of the servants about their whore prince.
“No, thank you.”
She poked her lip out into a seductive pout. “Perhaps later, Highness?”
If I could carry a royal bastard, I’d never have to work again.
That quelled his erection better than an icy bath. Unlike his progenitor, he didn’t believe in abandoning the children he fathered. The world and people were far too cruel for that. “No. Thank you.”
He left her and headed to where his father was waiting out in the bright sunshine that split his head with pain. Holding his hand up to shield his bloodshot eyes, he stopped next to the cushioned chair his father reclined on. “You summoned me, Majesty?”
His father snorted. “I’d hoped it would take you longer to answer.”
“How so?”
“You were supposed to be enjoying the charms of the little minx I sent you. I’d hoped she would please you. She’s extremely talented. One of the best we have.”
Great. Just what he wanted. One of his father’s cast-off whores.
“Forgive me, Father. In the past, whenever I dawdled after a summons, you didn’t take it well.”
His father laughed. “That is true. In the future, when I send a man or old woman for you, come swiftly. Should it be a winsome maid … take your time.” He gestured to the seat beside him. “Come and sit with me for a while. I have some things I wish to discuss with you.”
His head still messed up quite a bit, Styxx moved to the chaise and did his best to keep his father from detecting his condition.
A servant came forward to pour his wine then returned to a distance out of hearing range.
“We may be going to war soon.”
Styxx arched a brow at that. “With whom?”
“The Arcadians. They’re encroaching on Corinth, and as you know, the Corinthians have long been allies of ours. King Clietus has requested a commitment of forces from me so that he can repel the Arcadians.”
“Why are you conferring with me?”
“I’d like to know what you would do if you were king.”
“Meet with my advisors and not my inexperienced son.”
His father actually laughed at that. “I have met with my advisors, and I’ve made my decision, but I wanted to know what
you
would do in my place.”
Ah, that explained this futile lesson. “You’re testing me.”
“I am, indeed.”
“And if I fail?”
“I’d rather you fail as prince than as a king.”
Styxx took a small sip of wine and laid his head back while his thoughts whirled about. “What did your advisors say?”
“That we owe it to the Corinthians to help them. They have been vital allies for a long time. They don’t believe we should make a new enemy when we don’t have to.… So tell me, boy, what would
you
do?”
Make the decision when I’m not high.
But he couldn’t tell his father that. So he answered to the best of his fogged mind with the lessons Galen had taught him. “The decision to go to war isn’t just about thinking what will happen
if
you win. It’s mostly thinking about what will happen should you fail, and weighing the benefits of winning against the consequences of losing. What I wouldn’t do is send good Didymosian men out to die for a king too weak to hold his throne on his own. If the Arcadians are set on Corinth, they won’t stop. They never do, and like the Dorians, their soldiers are fiercely trained professionals who are ruthless to their bitter cores.” Meanwhile the bulk of the Corinthian and Didymosian soldiers were ordinary citizens who only trained a few days each month, or two weeks a year. “The Arcadians hold much more territory and have four times the army of the Corinthians. Even if we send all we have trained, it won’t be enough to stop them, and the Corinthians will fall. Then, angry at us for our alliance and aid, the Arcadians will turn their sights to Didymos, knowing we’re now weakened from war, and unable to repel their greater army. Rather, I’d send an emissary, and tribute, to the Arcadian king to start an alliance with
them
. Especially since the Arcadians border the Dorians, who are our biggest threat. Should the Dorians ever turn their eyes on our wealth and lands, it would benefit us to have an alliance with the kingdom that borders them on the north and east while we have them on the south. Even with their greatly trained forces, the Dorians can’t win a war on three fronts against a united enemy with mutual disdain for them.”
“Why should the Arcadians trust us after we’ve just broken an alliance with the Corinthians?”
“What fool truly trusts an ally? The Arcadian king’s smarter than that, and he will understand and respect that you are too intelligent to be pulled into a losing war. Besides, he knows that an alliance with us could help him should the Dorians ever come after
his
holdings. If that’s not enough of a reason, the Arcadian king is recently widowed. Your virgin daughter is one of the most beautiful of all women in Greece. Offer her hand to sweeten the tie.”
I should have thought of that
.
Styxx pretended not to have heard his father’s mental comment. “So what did you do, Father?”
“I went with my advisors’ suggestion.”
I wonder if we can call back the emissary.…
He lifted his cup in salute to Styxx. “Perhaps it’s time I appoint you as one of my advisors.”
Styxx scoffed. “Your advisors would be highly offended to have me in their ranks, given my age and war experience. They’d take it as a personal affront and think you’re mocking them with my presence.”
His father frowned. “When did you become so good at diplomacy?”
Birth. He’d been forced to navigate both his mother’s and his father’s capricious moods all his life. But his father had never asked his opinions before, and in the past, he’d been too sober to give them.
His father narrowed his eyes at him. “Here’s my next question. Would you have the same answer if the Corinthians were led by a beautiful queen instead?”
Styxx laughed at the thought.
His laughter died an instant later as he looked up to see his sister approaching. By the pinched look on her face, he wondered if she hadn’t heard his suggestion to marry her off. She was in a fierce pique and didn’t care who knew it.
That brought out the little brother in him and he couldn’t resist rankling her more. “Hey, it’s lamb-head. Where have you been, sweet sister?”
“Away,” she snapped angrily with a glare that should have left him in bloody pieces on the ground. Rudely, she dismissed him and turned to address her king. “Father, might I have a word alone with you?”
His father glanced at him before he answered. “Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of your brother. One day Styxx will be your king, too, and you will be answerable to him.”
The expression on her face said that she couldn’t think of anything worse. If only she knew what true hell and misery were. But then no one had ever beaten her for any offense. And they’d never held her down and …
Styxx winced at the vicious memories and lashed out at the one bitch who had slapped him every time she drew near. If not physically, verbally.
He should be whipped, Father.… He’s nothing but a spoiled, selfish bully.
Any time she could, she’d worsened his punishments. No doubt had she been on the hunting trip, she’d have encouraged them to be even rougher with him. Crueler.
Had he been sober, he’d have probably said nothing to her. But today …
“That’s right,” he said snidely, taking another drink of his wine. “That means you have to kiss my feet just like everyone else.”
As if anyone ever had …
His father laughed at him. “You’re such a scamp.”
Ryssa bit her lip and pinned him with a glare that told him plainly she wished he were dead and burned. That she begrudged him every breath he took.
“So why are you here, kitten?” their father asked. “Do you wish a new trinket or clothes?”
“No. I want to bring Acheron home.”
Styxx averted his gaze as those words went through him and made his heart skip a beat. Did she somehow know what Estes had done to them?
His father sputtered indignantly. “Now see here, what has gotten into your foolish head? I’ve told you repeatedly how I feel. That monster doesn’t belong here.”
Panicked terror spread through Styxx as he brushed his hand against the words Estes had branded into his groin. If his father sent for Acheron now, Estes might expose both of them just for vindictive meanness.
And how could Styxx deny what was clearly branded onto his body?
In fact, there was no telling what Estes would do, or Acheron, for that matter. His brother had gone crazy when Styxx had tried to free him. Acheron was completely docile and submissive to Estes’s every whim.
What if Acheron said that Styxx had been a willing participant? That he’d begged them to whore him …
Styxx curled his lip and spoke out loud before he could stop himself. “Why would you want him here? He’s a danger to all of us.”
“A danger how?”
In ways you can’t even begin to fathom, little girl.
The king glared at her. “You don’t know what a demigod is capable of. He could kill your brother while he sleeps, kill me, kill all of us.”
Acheron could tell the entire kingdom that I’m a whore he helped to train.…
No doubt, she’d enjoy seeing his humiliation made public. To know how he’d been degraded and abused.
For Acheron, she’d weep. For him, she’d only laugh.
I hope you get what you deserve.…
Ryssa stamped her foot. “Why do you not fear for Estes?”
“Estes keeps him under control.”
Styxx ground his teeth as those words echoed in his head. So his father knew that Estes drugged his brother. For that matter, he might even know that Estes beat Acheron into submission. And why should he care? The gods had borne witness that his father had very seldom spared
him
a beating.
For all he knew, his father had sent Estes the whips he used on Acheron. That thought sickened him to the point he almost vomited.
What else did his father know?
“Acheron belongs here, with us,” Ryssa said, her voice cracking with her emotion.
Their father came to his feet. “You are a woman, Ryssa, and a young one at that. Your mind is best occupied with fashion and decorating. Planning your dress for a party. Acheron doesn’t belong in this family. He never will. Now go find your mother and gossip. Styxx and I have important matters to discuss.”
She glared at them both. “Matters more important than your own son?”
“He is not my son!”
Those words slashed at Styxx’s heart. Every time his father said them, a part of him died. Because he knew the truth.
There was no way to legitimately deny one twin and embrace the other. The scar on his arm testified to the king’s doubt where Styxx was concerned.
Just like Acheron …
Ryssa shook her head. “So that whole story you told me about protecting Acheron was wrong?”
Their father scowled. “What are you talking about?”
Her lips quivered before she answered. “You told me when they took Acheron away that you were doing it to protect him. You said that two heirs shouldn’t be raised together, as it would be an added target to enemies. You said you would bring Acheron home when he was old enough. You never intended to return him here, did you?”
“Leave us!”
She spun on her heel and stormed off.
Stunned, Styxx replayed her last bit through his head. “Did you really tell her that, Father?”
He sat down in a huff. “Who knows? Who cares? I told her what I had to, to keep her from nagging at me. Take my word, Styxx, there is nothing more annoying than a woman wanting her way.”
Ignoring that last bit, Styxx braced himself for the question he needed answered. “Why
did
you send Acheron to Atlantis? The truth, Father.”
Because whenever I see his wretched eyes I hate
you. His father’s thought splintered his heart.
“What does it matter?” his father snapped angrily. “Acheron was
not
a member of this family. He didn’t belong here.”
“And the fact that he shares my face?”
“A trick of the gods.”
But I’m the one with the powers. Acheron only has the eyes.
And his father would hate and deny him, too, if he
ever
learned that truth.
I really am nothing.…
Worse, he had nothing.
December 9, 9533 BC
Styxx was sound asleep when someone grabbed him and dragged him from his bed in the middle of the night.
“Where is he?”
His attacker slammed him against the wall so hard, his breath left his body.
“Damn it, boy! Answer me, or so help me, I’ll gut you!”
Styxx finally recognized Estes’s voice in the darkness. But for his life, he didn’t understand why his uncle was so angry. “He’s gone to Arcadia.”
Estes backhanded him. “Not
my
brother, you stupid whore. Yours! What did you do with Acheron?”
What?
Styxx stared at him blankly. “He’s with you.”
Estes punched him in the stomach then began raining blows on him so fast and furiously that Styxx couldn’t even put his arms up to defend himself. He was too dazed by the herbs, his sleep, and now the beating. Falling to the ground, he tried to crawl away, but Estes followed, kicking him as hard as he could with every step.