Page 37 of The House of the Red Balconies

“He went to sea and never came back,” said Loukianos. “So many of them do, it’s commonplace. And yet, when it happens to you … ” He made a hopeless gesture. “Now here I am, two years later. And here you are, Hylas, and you, Lara.”

“Lada,” the companion whispered.

“Pleased to meet you,” Hylas murmured back, automatically.

He wasn’t sure what to do about Loukianos. Drag him home, as he would have done with a labourer whom he found drunk outside a wine shop? Or let him talk, because he was after all the governor?

“There are so many things that I regret,” Loukianos went on.

Let him talk, Hylas decided. If he’d needed to get this drunk in order to say what he wanted to say, best not to let that effort go to waste. Hylas sat on the cushion beside Loukianos. Lada dropped down on the other side, biting her lip. Loukianos gazed slowly at each of them in turn.

“Here I am,” he said again. “And here you are. Just as … Isn’t she beautiful, Hylas? Lara—isn’t she beautiful?”

“Ab-absolutely.” Hylas shot Lada an apologetic look.

“I can’t do anything with a beautiful woman. Never have been able to. Pitiful, isn’t it?”

Lada and Hylas made soothing noises.

“I was married once. Lovely young girl. Friend of the family. Thought I could hack it.” He hung his head. “I divorced her, in the end, for her own sake. She’s better off without me. It might have ruined my career—thought it would—but I couldn’t keep her trapped like that.”

“That was caring of you, sir,” said Lada.

“Then I came here and met Hippolytos, and it was all different. He wasn’t like me. Girls, men—” Loukianos threw back his head suddenly and laughed aloud. Lada and Hylas both started. “He could take pleasure with anyone. By the gods, how I loved him.”

Hylas put a hand on the governor’s shoulder. “I think it’s good to remember that, sir. Even if it is painful—even though of course it is painful.” He was starting to tear up himself.

Loukianos looked down at Hylas’s hand, then up into Hylas’s face. Some thought was clearly forming, slowly, in his mind, but Hylas could not guess what it was.

Loukianos reached suddenly for Lada’s hand, and removing Hylas’s hand from his shoulder, brought the two of them clumsily together.

“Take Lara to bed, Hylas.”

“What?” Hylas yelped.

Lada had frozen, eyes wide like a deer facing a hunter.

“She’s a beautiful girl. Take her to bed. I’ll just watch. You won’t even know I’m there.”

“Governor Loukianos, sir … ” Lada began wretchedly. “I … ”

“Let go of us, please,” said Hylas, trying to withdraw his hand without violence. But Loukianos was squeezing his wrist fervently.

“I always wanted to ask Hippolytos for this, but I never had the courage. I know, I know it’s perversion, I should be ashamed … ”

“Oh, no, sir,” Lada began, “it’s just … ”

“Don’t be ashamed,” said Hylas, finding firm ground now, to his relief. “You want what you want. And you can have it here—it’s Tykanos. Makes—makes Boukos look like a jurist’s funeral, I—I’ve heard. But Loukianos, Lada is a companion, and the companions of Tykanos are accomplished entertainers who deserve our respect.” He was quoting one of Mutari’s guests, word for word. “You cannot tell her to go to bed with a man she doesn’t even know.”

“But you’re wonderful!” Loukianos cried indignantly.

“I—that’s very kind of you, sir, but⁠—”

“He saved a town from a volcano, you know,” Loukianos informed Lada.

“No, I—it wasn’t a⁠—”

“And you can see for yourself how considerate he is. He’s not as handsome as Hippolytos, but nobody is, and if you like Ariatan looks, you can’t deny he has a fine physique.”