The Lords, Princes, and Kings.

Chapter Eleven-

   " Little bird, where are you going?/Would you mind if I came too?/I thought I had it all together/But then I saw your lovely colors " — The Arcadian Wild- Little Bird —

    "All hail Emperor Marcus Aurelius!" Margarita bellowed. I joined in, although, my words were somewhat choked by my laughter.

Marcus and I had teamed up and beat Margarita. Marcus was on the couch, Rita and I on the bleeding mahogany floor. Rita was turned around so her whole body faced us, while I had my back against the couch, one arm slung behind me. "Dinner!" Mindy called, knocking on the door.

They staggered up and raced to the door. I, in contrast, stumbled to my feet, half my body being asleep despite the adrenaline-riddled match. Mindy was smiling, watching me from the doorway.

"How are you liking living with us?" The answer almost flew out of my mouth.

My breath hitched, realization slamming into me so hard, lord, I forgot how little I had lingered with my thoughts recently. Naïveté ached through my marrow, a bog forming in my chest. Living with them. Any fights, I would have to deal with it. End them, but not feel as though I am overstepping, intruding in how their ecosystem works. This was their own niche, and I was an invasive species.

'Those thoughts were irrelevant to the question', rung through my body decisively.

"Yes, of course! I love my room." I did. It even had a board where I could hang and pin photos and a closet.

Aunt Mindy smiled, and I realized how much it meant to her.

"Right, you must be hungry. Go on, now."

My door opened abruptly. I nearly jumped out of my skin, startled. I glimpsed the clock- fuck. It was 2:35 a.m. At least it wasn't 2:36, or 2:34. Punctuation is valued here, I mentally mocked my own thought process.

"Marcus? Why are you awake?"

He shuffled, pajamas and hair ruffled. Finally, he looked up. A moment passed reluctantly. Marcus shrugged, gaze falling again.

"Nightmare... I tried waking up Maggie, but she wouldn't get up. Mom had to go to a last minute in-person meeting..." What?

I tripped towards my phone, face down on the bed, haphazardly angled near the side. The moment my fingers grazed it, I almost lost it between the bed and nightstand. It lit up at my fingertips. I blinked away the harsh light.

A text from Aunt Mindy that read exactly what Marcus had said. Oops...

Guiltily, my gaze fell on the aforementioned board. Now, it had images and writing thrown onto it. Not for decorative purposes. Research, maybe? Mysteries from over or almost a hundred years ago. The still missing artwork from WWII, the disappearance of Theodosia Burr Alston. Atlantis, Nostradomus, Julius Caesar, the Last Will and Testament of Peter the Great.

Names, dates, money, blood, storms. War, technology, the spark of it all.

I bit my lip, piercing it once again. Allowing the metal tangy seep into my psyche, I turned back to Marcus.

"Have I told you the story of Odysseus?"

"A little."

Of course, certain parts had to be moderated and altered... Tonight was not exactly the time to go on ranting about the entire history of Greece, Anatolia, philosophy... etc. Marcus did not need to know all about the culture of Ancient Greece.

"Lay down beside me. Let me tell you about his son, Telemachus."

I shifted, sitting up on the bed, back against the pillows, phone on my lap. Marcus did as told. "Telemachus?" He asked. Surely, I had told him of that name plenty before?

"Yes. Brave and hopeful. Admirable, honorous and noble. He protected his mother, his kingdom, and his father's legacy, all while growing up, without Odysseus."

"The child was so admirable, intelligent in a way, and loyal, he befriended a goddess! I am getting ahead of myself. When Telemachus was an infant..."