My gaze flicked down toward the training yard. Achilles was there, sweat-slicked, sword flashing. He hadn’t seen us yet, but Theron’s voice wasn’t exactly subtle.
Theron leaned in closer. “Do they always grunt so loudly? Or is that some kind of strange Spartan mating ritual?”
I cut him a disdainful glance. “I would think you’d be trainingwiththem. Unless you’re eager to embarrass yourself in battle.”
Theron’s mouth tipped upward, confidence rolling off him. “Embarrass myself? I’d only embarrass them. Imagine … trained their whole lives and still outdone by the wave of my hand.”
“Big claims,” Achilles’s voice suddenly rang out, carrying easily across the courtyard. He strode toward us, helmet tucked under one arm, sweat darkening the edges of his tunic. His eyes locked on Theron and hatred burned in their depths. “I wonder if your hand moves so well when steel’s coming for your throat.”
Theron studied him. “It moves well enough,” he said. “The real question is whose hand falters first, Captain. Yours … or mine?” He let the words hang just long enough to needle before adding with a careless shrug, “Either way, I’d be faster.”
The courtyard stilled.
Achilles snarled. “Why don’t you come here and show us what clever looks like with a blade in your hand?”
Theron glanced at me, then back at Achilles. “Well, if you’re asking so sweetly …”
He walked leisurely into the ring, drawing the blade Menelaus had gifted him with a flourish that caught the sun and scattered it in all directions.
Achilles stripped off his tunic and tossed it aside. Across from him, Theron still looked maddeningly relaxed. His smile insufferable as always.
“I’ll admit,” Theron murmured, clasping his hands behind his back, the sword dangling loosely. “I’ve been curious. They whisper about you in every corner. The legendary Achilles—Sparta’s war hound. I’ve been eager to see if the stories hold up.”
Achilles’s eyes narrowed as he stepped forward, shoulders broad, every line of him tense for a fight. “Funny,” he said menacingly. “You’ve heard of me. But until you slithered into Sparta, I’d never heard ofyou.”
Theron’s grin was edged with amusement, like he knew a joke Achilles and the rest of us hadn’t been let in on. “I doubt that’s the case, Captain. But on the off chance it is, then I’ll just have to correct that today.”
Achilles’s eyes didn’t flicker. “You like to talk,morosoph. Let’s see if you can still run your mouth when it’s full of blood.”
Theron chuckled at his insult. “I love the enthusiasm. Though I’d hate to ruin your reputation for brooding silence and unnecessary shirtlessness.”
“Better a bare chest than a hollow threat,” Achilles muttered.
Theron spread his arms in mock surrender. “You wound me, Captain. But enough talk, I’m ready to givemyqueen a show.”
Achilles growled and twirled his blade once. “She’s notyourqueen.”
Theron looked over his shoulder and winked at me. “Try not to be too impressed, Your Majesty,” he murmured, violet eyes flashing.
I scoffed—then nearly stumbled back as he moved.
Steel flashed, too quick for thought. Achilles barely brought his blade up in time, the ring of steel shivering through the courtyard like a peal of thunder. The crowd pressed closer, the crush of bodies tightening, hungry for blood.
I edged back though, my heart pounding.
Theron flowed like water, every strike a taunt, every feint a grin come to life. He darted in low, spun out high, his movements more dance than drill, mockery woven into every cut. Achilles met him head-on, brute force against cunning, each swing heavy enough to rattle the air.
At first, I thought the outcome was certain. Achilles’s stance never faltered, his feet rooted as though the ground itself bowed to him. His blade carved arcs of controlled destruction, precise, merciless, the embodiment of Ares’s wrath given flesh. Each strike promised to break not just steel—but the man daring to stand against him.
But then … something shifted.
Theron started pushing him.
And he wasn’t just deflecting, he wasadvancing.
Blow after blow, he moved Achilles back step by step, his smile never quite fading, but his eyes …
Gods.
