Page 105 of Axios

The next day, he asked if he could be moved to the sanctuary. During our stay over the winter, he had seen the shrine dedicated to the god Dionysius, and he felt a divine connection to the place.

“I wish to rest within the shade of the trees,” Agesipolis had spoken, closing his eyes as exhaustion tried to take him. “To feel the cool water on my skin.”

Eryx helped me move the king to the sanctuary, but he did not stay with me there.

When I inquired as to why, he’d said he wanted to give me privacy. Although I did not like being away from him, I was thankful to have the time to myself. To watch—and grieve—as the only other man to ever touch my heart deteriorated before my eyes.

In Agesipolis’ final moments, I held his hand and smoothed my hand through his damp hair, speaking to him in a soft tone and doing everything in my power to make him comfortable.

His breaths were rasping and he could barely keep his eyes open. Just as I feared he was at his end, he found an unexpected strength and the pressure on my hand tightened. His tired, brown eyes found me.

“The warrior with the golden hair is your lover?” he asked in a voice so quiet, I had to strain to hear him. I nodded. “I see how carefully he watches over you… as if you are his reason for existing.” With a shaking hand, he reached to touch my cheek. “Such beauty. I am happy you are with me. You captured my heart so long ago, and it is still yours to this day.”

His eyes fluttered closed and his mumblings became indistinct, but I caught my name several times.

He died hours later, clutching my hand as we lay in the cool shade beneath a large, thick-trunked tree. When his heart had stopped, tears sprang to my eyes, and I held him to my chest. But I did not cry.

His two advisors that had traveled with us back to Aphytis took him afterward. As they carried him off, I’d still had hold of his hand and had to force myself to release it.

They needed to make arrangements for his body to be prepared and taken back to Sparta for a proper burial.

I made my way back to my quarters, feeling my stomach quiver as I fought through my grief. I had witnessed many men die in the past, but it had never been someone that I had cared for.

Along with the grief there was regret. For years, we had not spoken to each other and treated the other just like any other man, only acknowledging each other in passing. So many years, we could have spent together. Perhaps not as lovers, but we could have beensomethingat least. More than the strangers we’d pretended to be.

When I entered the room, Eryx and the others looked up at me with expectant expressions.

“He… he is gone,” I said, clenching my fists at my sides. “Arrangements are to be made for his transport back home.”

Haden looked at his hands and Theon and Quill exchanged concerned glances. As for Eryx, he stared at me.

My throat tightened, and I excused myself from the room. Out in the corridor and many strides from the entryway to my quarters, I punched the wall. I couldn’t catch my breath as my chest shook and my heart pounded. My vision blurred, but I continued to hold back the tears.

Then, arms came around me.

Eryx pressed his mouth to my nape and tightened his hold around my waist.

Having him near me and feeling the sense of security he provided, I choked out a sob and turned to bury my face against his neck. Showing such weakness was frowned upon, but I could not hold it at bay any longer.

Eryx held me as I cried against him, occasionally kissing the side of my head and saying soothing words. He placed no judgements on me, nor did he show anger for me expressing sorrow over another man.

Once I calmed, I slid down the wall and stared at the open archway straight ahead that led out onto a patio. The moon appeared bigger that night and the stars shown all the clearer.

Eryx sat beside me and put his hand on my thigh.

“I apologize,” I said in a hoarse voice. “It must not be easy to see me mourning him.”

“There is no need to apologize,” he responded, moving his fingers in small circles on my leg. “You cared for him, and now he’s gone. Grief is not a thing we choose, and we cannot run from the pain of it.” He draped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me closer to him. “Remember the story of the sisterhood of nymphs who mourned their brother? They did not choose to grieve so heavily that they died. And yet, they did.”

Even though sadness still filled my chest, I smiled at the memory, knowing it was Eryx’s way of trying to alleviate my sadness.

Whenever I displayed too much sensitivity, he often showed compassion for me, but he would follow it by a lecture of Spartan strength. But he didn’t in that moment. He must have known how hurt I was.

My shattered heart began to slowly mend and warm with my love for him.

“If I die, do not allow Zeus to turn me into a star,” I spoke, grinning despite the gaping wound in my heart.

“But you love the stars.” Eryx kissed my temple before nuzzling his nose along the edge of my brow.