The House of Atreus bears a curse. One steeped in blood and nourished by decades of violence.
Klytemnestra knew this when she married Agamemnon, but being a princess in Sparta doesn't leave you with much choice, though she longs for it. The Fates s...
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He's younger than me but not by much, maybe just a few years. His hair is dark and shiny, combed back from his forehead. His stubble casts a shadow around his jaw, giving his face a sharp edge. A tiny smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he looks at me through stormy grey eyes. I watch him as he bends into a low bow. There's a rugged beauty about him. The way his lean body moves is smooth; powerful, yet elegant. His gaze lingers on me longer than probably necessary when he straightens. His smile remains in place, as if he's guessed my thoughts.
"What urgent business brings you to the palace today, basileus?" I make myself sound bored, detached. The quicker I can end this conversation, the sooner he'll leave. The headache is pounding behind my forehead now and I don't have the patience to deal with boot lickers. I'm tempted to call the guards and have him thrown out, chased into the streets by dogs to make sure he doesn't come back.
"I don't go by any title," he replies. "They were removed when my father was dethroned. It's just Aegisthus, anassa." His tone seems genuine but there's something in his eyes that doesn't quite match up with the triviality of his words.
"Your father was Thyestes, right?" I say, watching his reaction. "The late king's brother, who killed him and took away the throne?"
Aegisthus nods but remains silent. His gaze wanders around the room, snagging on the tapestries and frescos covering the walls, the furs lining the marble floors, taking in every detail, it seems, before it comes back to me.
"Apologies," he inclines his head, studying me as I study him, "this place holds many memories for me. One can't help but compare it to the picture in one's mind."
"You've lived here before?"
He nods again. "My mother... wasn't well and left us early. She and my father did not get along. I was raised by the late King Atreus."
I didn't know that. I eye him again, noting the pause upon mentioning his mother's death. "You must've mourned the loss of your father figure at the hands of your own father then."
Our eyes lock for a moment that seems to stretch as we seize each other up. There's no emotion visible on his face, it remains placid as he looks up at me from the foot of the platform. But his stare has an intensity that seems at odds with his smile.
"It was certainly a sad day for all of Mycenae," he finally says and looks down, breaking the contact. "But order was restored when the anax returned." He shifts for the first time. There's a tiny tick in his jaw, a flex of his fingers. It lasts only an instant but just like that, the illusion breaks.
"So, Aegisthus," I draw out his name, trying out the sound of it on my tongue, "tell me why you're here today. Why you keep coming back even though you've been turned away."
When he looks up, he's perfectly composed again and I almost smile to myself.
"I merely came to offer my services." He bows once more, perfectly charming all of a sudden. "Seeing since the throne is vacant, I figured you might need a hand trying to keep away those who might mean to take it in the King's absence."
