He peered into the room, and Leukos glanced back towards the table, expecting to see the woman still there. “You never told me your?—”
But the room was empty. She had vanished without a trace, and unease crept over him.
“Who are you talking to?” Nik pushed past him, then blurred through the chamber, rifling with reckless speed. A stack of parchments scattered across the floor, his unfinished reading of Tiryns’ city laws now in disarray. Nik checked the balcony before returning to the door. “There’s no one here.”
Leukos’ jaw clenched at the sight of the strewn parchments.
Nik rubbed the back of his head. “Ah, sorry about that.”
Theo wiped a hand over his face, clearly hiding his amusement. Leukos released a long breath, his mind still troubled by the woman’s sudden disappearance.
“Let’s just get this over with,” he muttered, stepping out of the room.
“But you didn’t answer us,” Nik pressed, trailing after him. “Who were you talking to?”
Leukos strode down the hallway towards the staircase, ignoring their puzzled looks.
He didn’t have an explanation, at least not one that made sense. The one forming in his mind was too absurd to say aloud.
The faint echo of her voice lingered:You’re far too handsome for any mere mortal prince.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose as a single word reverberated in his mind.
Mortal.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
LEUKOS
The three of them descended the staircase into the courtyard, where morning sunlight spilled like molten gold over white stone and flickered through the slender columns. The air was crisp, but a shadow shifted across the colonnaded walkway.
Danaos appeared in polished armour, his amber cloak billowing behind him—a striking contrast against the sunlit courtyard.
When he spotted Leukos, a scowl tightened his sharp features. Without hesitation, he cut across the open space towards them, his ominous aura putting Nik and Theo on edge.
“Leukos,” Nik murmured under his breath, a warning.
Leukos gave a subtle shake of his head. “I’ll handle him.” He strode forward, stepping away from his friends to meet Danaos by the fountain.
“Your Highness,” Danaos greeted, his tone clipped. He seemed restless, his movements agitated. “I’m heading to the palace gates. I’ll keep an eye out for any intruders.”
Leukos frowned. Danaos’ absence from the celebrations was highly unusual. He was the queen’s general and right hand. “No one would dare interrupt a royal wedding,” Leukos replied. “You should stay.”
Danaos paced, anguish cracking through his calm. “I cannot.”
Leukos recalled the conversation he’d had with Charis the last time he left Tiryns—he’d told her she was free to love and spend time with whoever she wished, especially after learning of her affair with Danaos. But he’d never spoken to Danaos himself about it.
Now, standing before the restless general, it was clear a conversation was unavoidable—perhaps necessary—before the wedding. No matter their feelings, they all had roles to play, and unresolved tension could only fracture the fragile alliance.
Leaning closer, Leukos pressed, “Charis will want you there.”
“I know.”
“Then why aren’t you attend?—”
The general whirled on Leukos, his face flushed. “I’m doing thisfor her!” he shouted, running a shaky hand through his golden hair. Then, as if frustrated with his own outburst, he turned away, fists clenching at his side. “I thought I could stay, but the thought of you and her… It eats me alive. I’ve dreaded this wedding for years. Years! Ever since Charis told me the truth of your betrothal the last time you visited Tiryns… and now I am but a hollow shell of a man.”
Leukos barely kept his irritation in check. Danaos had no idea of the weight he carried—no idea how much it tore him apart to marry Charis while his thoughts circled endlessly around Alena. Yet here Danaos was, baring his soul like some lovesick boy, as if he alone had to swallow this pain.
