𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒

𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍|𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐒

  WITH ONLY A WAVE of his hand, the Spartan King dismisses an entire court; his soldiers dispersing with the clink of metal on metal. Even the ancient thing, Enyo, bows her head and is led out without argument. He is done here, his tributes taken, his mirth had.

  My sisters and I do not move, uncertain if the command includes us and terrified to displease. Only Sir Deimos remains standing before the dais, his head tilted in our direction, "What shall be done with them?"

  "Whatever must." The King rises from his throne; a horrid, towering, mountain of a man. And when he looks down upon us, my breath catches — stolen in the way any tribute is. "They may dine alongside us if you wish, Sir Deimos."
  There's something strange in his looking, for it is not at all in the usual, greedy way a man looks at a woman, instead, it feels like he's scrutinising every mortal flaw, "Let it be a kindness," He sneers, "For they look as though they have never known a decent meal."

  There is a twisting in my gut as I stare up at him, suddenly all too aware of the hollowness in my cheeks and the empty ache in my belly. He leers back, eyes on fire; tawny as fresh-forged dawn but not nearly as comforting. Instead, he is striking. A man, a monster, a weapon borne of molten sun. Even the sight of him lands like a deadly blow  — like a dagger to the chest, and when he speaks, his voice is agony.

  "Stand." He commands, "Should I want you on your knees I may only ask."

  We rise as one, headstrong and hopelessly tangled, yanked upwards by these nooses we've made. I tell myself it is the numbness making my knees weak, as I stare into his pious face and tell myself that I will not fall. Perhaps I'm more so my father's daughter than I ever let myself believe. Maybe that is what I must become to survive in this foreign land; a liar.

  By no small miracle, my legs stay steadfast, but still, I am a liar, for as I stare up into the face of this foreign King I know in some way I've already fallen.
  Today, I am Icarus, hurtling through the sky like a fallen star, soaring, arms spread to embrace my undoing.

  Even standing he towers in a way no man should, broad as a bear and not half as welcoming — tall in a way that recalls tales of long lost titans and forbidden Gods. He looms, dark and brooding, a vicious storm cloud threatening thunder — terrifying and awful and yet somehow, beautiful.
  A devastating force of nature.

  Heat finds me in a way it never has before, pooling in the deepest nadir of my being. It settles heavy as lead and makes me brave with foolish intent. The words come fast, and if it were not for the familiar cadence of my voice, I would not have known it to be my own.  "Are you really all that they say, Northerner?"

  There's a collective moment, where my sisters look on horrified and even Sir Deimos shifts his disposition, however slight. An icy hale of regret showers down upon me. I wait, preparing for the strike, for the storm, for the punishment for speaking out of turn, the disrespect of addressing him as anything other than the almighty ruler he claims to be.
  But I wait and I wait and nothing comes.

  Maybe I'm mad. If I am then he is more so. Because if anything it looks as if the Spartan King finds some amusement in my outburst; in the irony of the lamb taunting the lion. Thousands have come today to cower and beg and lay their bare-bones at his feet, yet here I am — some small girl, with no strength but that of her mind and of no particular importance to anyone, risking what no man dares to. It is because I have the least of all to lose.

  The look is predatory, a handsome mess of sharp canines and feral divinity. A most devilish attempt at what I suppose is meant to be a smile. Then he leans close, bowing his head so that it's almost level with mine and I feel the heat of his warm breath fanning my neck. A traitorous shiver crawls down my spine. Everything within me screams to run — to get as far away from this beast as I can, to sail the oceans and climb the mountains if only it will put more distance between us. Even that hallowed place, at the end of the earth where even the maps cannot follow, would not be far enough.