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“Süleyman,” Kyrene corrected. “It took him six months to defeat the knights. Being a knight is no joke.”
With the gothic structure behind her, Rose let the fresh sea breeze wash over her skin.
“Who’s hungry?” she asked.
“Me!” the children chorused.
“Good, I think it’s time for lunch.”
“I know just the place,” Kyrene said. “Follow me.” To Rose she said, “It’s time to expand your cuisine again.”
Rose groaned. “What do I have to try this time?”
The women took the children by the hand.
“PlastaandChtapodokeftedes.” Kyrene winked.
“Plasta?” Rose asked.
“Handmade pasta cooked in meat stock, with lots of cheese and sizzling fresh butter. It may be served with boiled lentils, chickpeas, or dry beans.”
“That doesn’t sound bad. What’s the unpronounceable one?”
“The exact translation of this is ‘octopus ball.’ Think meatballs, but made of minced octopus meat and fried.” Kyrene grinned.
“Ew.” Nefeli wrinkled her nose.
“Gross.” Adonis said. “May I try one?”
The women laughed.
“Of course,” Rose said. “You can have mine.”
Kyrene wagged a finger at her. “No. You have to eat your serving if you want dessert.”
“You drive a hard bargain.” Rose sighed dramatically.
“What’s for dessert?” Adonis looked at Rose eagerly.
“I guess we’ll decide at lunch.”
“Are we there yet?” Adonis asked.
“We’re here,” Kyrene confirmed.
They were seated at an outdoor table under a blue and white striped awning, which provided much-needed shade. Large fans blew from the corners of the café walls to help ease the heat of the day.
Rose decided not to share the details of what she’d eaten for lunch with Stavros. He might not want to kiss her after she ate an octopus ball.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mykonos
Rose adjusted her headset as the plane flew above the sea toward Delos.
“There they are!” Adonis pointed at the seven white windmills lined up at the edge of the cape of Mykonos.
“Do they still work?” Nefeli asked over the plane’s headset.