Notnow.
Antonis half-turned, and that slight twist of his body gave Dimitrios the strength to continue.
“When my wife died, Theo sat on the floor at the side of my bed until I could bring myself to sit up. He slept there, propped up on that cold, hard tile for what must have only been days, but to me, it felt like years. And yet, he refused to leave my side for any reason.
“Our baby sister Kalliope”—he paused, smiling, though this, too, hurt to say—“I knew the moment she was born that she wasmine. Not in the way of a father but like that of two souls who have traveled lifetimes together. She is kind like our mother and intelligent like her father. She was my best friend, and I might miss her most of all.”
Dimitrios glanced at all the children standing with their parents. Dozens of them with wide, curious eyes. “There are easily ten and fivechildren between the four of them. The grounds are full of laughter. It is a magical place, much like I imagine it is here.”
Antonis turned fully and scanned Dimitrios in full. “And you? I understand that you have no children.”
“No. My only son died at birth with his mother.”
He didn’t want to get into how he’d wasted years bouncing between beds with women he didn’t love. He’d wanted love and companionship, much the same as witnessed between his mother and Elias. Sophia had given him that, and he never regretted the years it took to find her.
Antonis came closer, one hand gripping his himation at the center of his chest. A slight pink tinge began filling his cheeks. “The blood of your father has more hold on you than I first thought. Not only in your appearance but in how you would try to manipulate a man in his own home—on these lands we have held for more than seven generations.”
A band snapped in Dimitrios’s spine. “I’m sorry?”
“I make no secret of my weakness for family—it is our greatest strength, I assure you—and I admit you held my attention with this new information. I might even entertain your siblings if they were to one day visit our lands, but you—” Antonis shook his head. “You mock me.”
“I would never?—”
“Did you not leave this family you care for so greatly?”
“Not by choice.”
“Likely swayed by the same greed as your forefathers.”
“I— No, Grandfather, I?—”
“LordNicolea,” Antonis spat, then straightened to an even greater height. “For your mother’s sake alone, I will allow you one night under my roof. But, in the morning, you will leave—and you will not return. Not to this house. Not to these lands. And never again will you utter my family’s name.”
Antonis’s footsteps echoed as he exited, and not a whisper reached Dimitrios’s ears. He may as well be encased in marble, forever trapped in his humiliation and failure.
Rena appeared and touched his arm. “I am so sorry, Dimitrios. It appears his hurt runs deeper than I imagined.”
“Do not apologize.” He set a hand over hers. “It’s been a long day. I would like to retire.”
The touchof a smile reached her lips. “And then what will you do, nephew?”
“And then…” He stared after his retreating grandfather. His mother’s father. His family. The man who had just erased him. “What do you do when someone slams a door in your face?” he asked softly. “You wait. You listen. And when you’re ready, you knock again.”
To: His Majesty the King of Perean, Dimitrios Vidalatos
We didn’t discuss this upon your departure, but I felt I should keep you informed while you’re away.
Young Captain Triarius has escaped his private tower room, and his ship vanished from the harbor with all of his crew. It may not be my place to say so, but this has given me hope for Selene’s safe return.
All is well at the palace, otherwise. The halls are eerily quiet, in fact.
I wish I had news of the inquisitor’s health, but he remains asleep. Athena keeps to his side day and night. Oskar was right to suggest her. She lets no one near him who hasn’t been permitted by you alone.
Beyond that, I have little to report other than this: your puppies are now in the palace and have found their voices. The beasts howl at every moon. Caius says it’s your fault they’re here, and I’m inclined to agree.
Perhaps you wanted a pack of mischief-makers trailing you through the palace halls. If so, I will keep them well-fed in your absence.
Safe travels, my lord.
