I drank in the sight of him.
He reached the high table and pulled out a chair opposite us. “Your Majesty,” he murmured as he sat, nodding at Menelaus in greeting. His armor barely made a sound as he shifted and assessed the hall, reading the room like a battlefield.
Then his eyes found mine.
For a moment, his gaze devoured me, hot, unguarded, a collision so fierce it stole the breath from my lungs. Recognition. Warning. Want. All tangled, all burning.
I felt it everywhere.
But just as quickly, he tore his gaze away, ripping it from mine with visible effort, the muscle in his jaw ticking hard. His attention slashed back to the room … until it locked on Nikandros lurking near a cluster of nobles.
Achilles’s jaw flexed. “What’s that snake doing here?” he muttered, too low for most to hear, but not too low for Menelaus.
The king straightened as he eyed his captain. “Who are you talking about?”
Achilles didn’t hesitate. “Nikandros.”
“He’s for my queen,” Menelaus snapped. “Though she doesn’t seem to appreciate the taste of home I’ve given her.” His gaze slid to me again, heavy as a hand on the back of my neck. As if my lack of gratitude had personally wounded his divine pride.
My insides froze, but I kept my face smooth as Achilles leaned forward, elbows braced on the table. “He was brought in for questioning two weeks ago. He was selling the supplies meant for Amyklai’s people. Charging them coin for grain that was already paid for. For medicine meant to be free.”
The hall tilted, just slightly. Nikandros. Smiling. Smug.Breathing.
My vision pricked at the edges. I wanted to lean across the table and hiss,And you let him stand here? In front of me? In front of them?
But queens didn’t hiss in Sparta.
Annoyance flickered over Menelaus’s features, but it didn’t seem to be for the crime. Merely at the inconvenience of hearing it. At the implication that something meant to reflect on his godliness had been twisted … and reflected poorly on him.
“Is that so?” he said in a flat voice.
Achilles lifted his eyebrow. “It is.”
Menelaus stared at him for another moment, his irritation curdling into something like contempt, and I thought for a second he was planning Nikandros’s punishment. The king tipped his goblet back and drank. Long, deep swallows, as if hoping the wine might drown the entire conversation.
And just like that … I knew he wasn’t going to do a damned thing.
My breath thinned, a red haze filling my vision.
“Have you received any more word of disturbances in the East?” Menelaus murmured to Achilles, leaning forward as if he didn’t want to be overheard.
Achilles answered—something about scouting parties and rumors—but the words slid right off me. The king had no intention of addressing Nikandros. No intention of justice. No intention of anything except pretending the stain didn’t exist.
Their voices blurred into meaningless sound as my gaze swept the hall in frustration.
Nobles gossiped behind jeweled cups. Courtiers leaned in with syrup-sweet devotion. Servants slipped between tables like shadows, keeping their heads down, keeping the king’s wine goblet full, keeping their fear tucked neatly beneath their tongues.
Then movement caught my eye.
Across the hall, one of Menelaus’s advisors lounged back in his chair, laughing too loudly as Hetairis draped herself artfully over his shoulder. Her fingersskimmed the line of his jaw, her voice warm as poured wine. He leaned toward her like a man starving.
Her smile wasn’t real. But his attention was … and it gave me an idea.
Before I could second-guess it, I let my hand slide along Menelaus’s arm. He immediately stilled, his words to Achilles cut off mid-sentence. Confusion tugged at his features as he turned toward me, brow furrowed like he couldn’t reconcile this sudden … voluntary touch with the queen who usually tolerated being touched rather than instigated it.
I lifted my lashes, meeting his gaze head-on. “I have a gift for you,” I murmured sweetly as I rose from my chair. Every eye nearby followed the movement, and I ignored Achilles’s burning stare.
Menelaus blinked up at me, utterly thrown.
