Biting back another smile, he pulled the cloth from the top to see honey cakes and the salted beef they used to sustain themselves on their marches. They were nestled around a small jug of the promised mead. “It’s wonderful, Simi. How did you know what I liked?”
“Well … you always ask for mead whenever we’re with you. The Simi has seen them meat sticks in your pack, though the Simi isn’t sure why you eat them. I mean, they’s okay. But not like them big juicy nummies akri gets for his Simi. And the cakes … that’s birthday food. Everyone loves birthday food.”
The light in her eyes warmed him. What a beautiful soul. Until her, he’d never met anyone who was kind.
Giving …
Sweet.
Was that the difference between having a father capable of kindness versus having a father who only doled out violence?
For the first time in his life, he wondered what he might have been like had someone like Acheron been his father. Stupid really, but he’d never given thought to such a thing before.
Would it have made a difference in his personality?
Tesiah had power. They had wealth and lands. His father believed that was enough.
Everyone feared their army and their wrath.
But was it the best way? People respected Acheron. They adored Simi.
Neither Acheron nor Simi had to beat anyone into submission to get their respect.
Of course, Acheron could do that without even trying. Still, the Atlantean god didn’t use force to coerce or even intimidate others. People simply respected him.
His father would call Acheron weak.
But not to his face, and no one else would dare.
Nor would Leucious ever be that stupid. Acheron was anything but weak. In truth, Leucious didn’t think he’d ever met anyone more powerful.
Or even more intimidating, and Acheron didn’t try to intimidate.
He chose a different way to lead and inspire others.
Was that better?
Leucious didn’t know. Maybe both were correct.
Or worse … what if they both were wrong?
It was all very confusing for someone who’d been trained to never question his father or their way of life. But the truth was, he didn’t like anyone who was on their side. Not his men or their allies.
Least of all his father.
And no one meant as much to him as Simi did.
“Where’s Acheron?” he asked her.
She shrugged. “Akri was talking to Savitar so the Simi snucked off while he was ignoring me.”
Those words sucker punched him. Was she serious? Had she any idea what she’d done?
“Acheron is with Savitar?” Savitar was one of the Chthonians who protected mortal creatures.
Were they supposed to talk to gods? Was that allowed?
How weird. Chthonians had been created to police divinity. He’d never heard of them associating with gods before.
