“Nor is he willing to try.”
A gentle breath. A small step forward. “You should try writing him letters.”
His heartbeat stuttered. “Letters?”
“Some people—I won’t say who—tend to open up in letters. Maybe that’s a trait passed down by blood.”
Dimitrios fought the pull on the corners of his lips. “Maybe some people—I won’t say who—naturally bring it out in others.”
She smiled. “We could have Caius write him on your behalf. He’s quite fond of you.”
“In that case, the old man won’t stand a chance. It would take a seriesof miracles to deny your son anything.” Dimitrios glanced down. “I’m quite fond of him as well.”
The crackle of the fire filled the yawning absence of response.
Finally, Milonia stepped forward. “I’ve seen a desk like that before.”
Dimitrios gripped onto the subject change with all his might and focused on the desk at his fingertips. Like most, it held an inkpot, quill, and a stack of parchment. The spacious drawers blended seamlessly into the design, adorned with brass handles.
Milonia came around to where he stood. “May I?”
Dimitrios stepped aside with a nod and watched her delicate fingers slide familiarly beneath the central part of the desk.
Milonia’s eyes lit with triumph. “I thought so.”
“What?”
Aclicksounded, and an entire compartment fell from beneath the desktop. Milonia pulled the shallow drawer forward to reveal its treasures. Loose coins, tightly bound scrolls, and stacks of folded parchments with broken green seals. The symbol was all too familiar.
A crowned lion.
Titos.
Seal after seal after seal.
Another. And another.
His heartbeat thrummed. He opened each missive, devouring every betrayal. Responses from the Supreme Commander. Personal notes. Copies of every missive he sent. Orders and promises.
Details regarding border defense.
Lists of names—Dimitrios, his siblings. Selene, Nikolas, Oskar…
His allies.
“My god,” he whispered. He stopped short of crumpling every paper in his fist. “He gave Titos the very blade he needed to hold at Perean’s throat.”
Milonia silently held out her hand for everything in his.
He passed them over without comment, then followed her to the couch before the fire. For once, he was too distracted to notice how near she was or how good she smelled. All he could do was wonder at the level of Leonidas’s deceit.
They read in silence. Together. Like conspirators. Passing pages back and forth, occasionally sharing a look.
“He would have handed all of Perean over to Titos,” Dimitrios said after quite a bit of time had passed. “It may even be too late to stop him.”
Stavros’s suspicions had been right. Titos had promised Leonidas the stewardship of Perean.
Milonia’s eyes whipped back and forth over another letter. “He’s been turning the provinces against you for months, ensuring you will never have their support.” She lowered the letter to her lap and stared into the fire. “The bandits were Titos’s men all along.”
