Like he already regretted looking at me at all.
“They say he’s a demigod, you know. The only divine being Menelaus allows in Sparta because of their bond,” Anysa commented, pulling me straight out of the ridiculous stare-off I was having with the man himself.
My throat felt dry as I pretended the lamb on the plate in front of me was suddenly interesting. “I’m sure that’s not true …”
She chuckled under her breath. “I’m just telling you what people say. That he’s the son of a sea goddess who tried to make him immortal—held him over sacred flame or dipped him in the Styx, depending on who’s telling it. That he was raised by Chiron, the famed centaur-sage, on Mount Pelion, who taught him every way to kill and every herb that could mend. Some say he wrestled a lion before he could walk. Others say he killed a man with his voice alone. But always, always, they say this: No one who’s ever fought him in battle has lived to tell the tale.”
I said nothing.
I hadn’t seen him fight, obviously. Not yet. But I could believe what she’d said. The way the hall reacted to his presence. The way even the air seemed to hush. There was something about him that didn’t feel quite mortal.
Still, if he truly was Menelaus’s closest companion, he definitely wasn’t as flawless as his legend claimed. And then there was the fact that he was also a soldier. Both were insurmountable marks against him.
“He’s beautiful,” Anysa said dreamily.
My jaw clenched. Something about hearing her say it out loud … grated.
I couldn’t disagree.
The most dangerous creatures were often beautiful.
I wasn’t the exception. I was theproof.
Dragging in a breath, I forced myself to look away. I wasn’t here to gawk at soldiers. I was here to survive. To win. To keep my—
The door slammed open with a bang that echoed off the frescoed walls.
“Up! On your feet!” Nomiki barked, striding into the chamber like she owned it. “Is this how you prepare for your future? Lounging like pampered courtesans?”
The girls around us jumped, knocking over cups and cushions as they scrambled to stand. Anysa rolled her eyes but obeyed, muttering under her breath.
Nomiki’s gaze swept the room with withering precision. “Lessons wait for no one. Not even you lot.”
She clapped her hands once, sharp as a slap. “Move.”
“Here we go,” Anysa whispered, and smiled at me like we were walking into a play.
But my pulse thundered like I was walking into war.
Chapter16
The fire in the hearth was burning low, shadows softening the edges of the stone chamber. Some of the girls lingered around the long table, their voices quieter now, dulled by nerves and bruised egos from two days of … queen lessons.
I sat near the end, hands wrapped around the rim of my cup, staring into what was left of the watered wine. My back still ached from yesterday’s posture drills, my cheeks sore from polite smiling. Queens, apparently, weren’t allowed to feel.
Anysa dropped into the seat beside me with the grace of a collapsing tent and tossed her veil aside. She groaned and stretched her legs under the table, knocking into mine.
“Well,” she said dramatically, “today I learned that I moan like a dying goose. My teacher actually mimicked the sound back to me. Mockingly. In front of the others.”
I blinked. “A goose?”
She nodded solemnly. “A dying one. Specifically. I told her I’ve never heard a goose die. She said, ‘You have now.’”
Despite myself, a small huff of laughter escaped me. She grinned, victorious, then rested her cheek on her folded arms.
“I used to think I was kind of pretty,” she mumbled into the crook of her elbow. “Not, like, you-are-our-ruin-prophesy or sacrifice-a-kingdom pretty like you. But decent. And now I’ve spent the last two days trying to learn how to pour wine while making eye contact without looking constipated.”
“That’s a … visual,” I said, fighting the twitch of my lips as one brow crept up in disbelief.
