Eleni lifted her chin in pride. "Thank you. I learned the art of it from my mother. She was the most skilled baker in all of Greece."
Acheron smiled. "Surely in all the world. I can't imagine anything better than this."
"Her pastries," Merus said around a mouthful of food. "They'll make you weep."
Acheron laughed. "I imagine a man would look rather strange weeping over food."
Merus smacked his lips. "Trust me, it's worth the humiliation."
Eleni ruffled his hair. "Eat up, child. You need to grow strong and tall, like Acheron."
Acheron didn't speak as he finished the bread. He delayed as long as he could, but all too soon he was done and it was time to leave.
"Thank you again," he said to them.
Eleni stood up with him. "Our pleasure, Acheron. Feel free to return anytime you'd like to try some of my pastries."
Merus grinned at him. "I'll have a hankie ready."
"I'm sure you will." Lifting his cowl, Acheron made sure to cover himself completely. "Good day to you."
"May the gods be with you."
If she only knew. Acheron carefully ducked out of the door and made his way back toward the hill where the palace was set. Strange, he'd set out to escape into the world of fantasy through the plot of a play and instead had his spirits lifted even higher by an unexpected encounter with real people. Eleni and Merus had given him more than an escape.
They'd given him normality. If only for a short while. And it meant everything to him. He felt better than he had in a long time.
At least until he returned home.
He hesitated in the foyer as he saw the large gathering of nobles and senate members who were accompanied by their families. Not that it should be that much of a surprise, but no one had told him there was to be a party.
Had he known, he'd have stayed locked in his room. His experience with such events had never gone well. Of course, in the past, he'd been the main attraction/fascination for all the guests. A chill swept over him as he remembered the times he'd been paraded around and pawed at before someone in the group threw him to the ground . . .
Pulling his cowl lower, he kept to the shadows as he made his way to the stairs. With any luck no one would approach him.
Yet as he drew even to the ballroom, his father's voice stopped him dead.
"Thank you all for coming to celebrate with me. It's not every day that a king is so blessed."
Acheron crept closer to the doors to see his father on a dais. Ryssa stood to his left with Apollo by her side. The god's arm was wrapped possessively around her shoulders. Styxx was to his father's right. He held hands with a tall, beautiful dark-haired woman.
"Let us all raise our cups in honor of my only daughter, the human consort for the god Apollo who is now expecting his child and to my only son who will be marrying the Egyptian princess Nefertari. May the gods bless them both and may our lands forever flourish."
A bitter jealousy tore through him as he listened. It stung so deep in his heart that it was all he could do not to lower his cowl and call out to his father that he did indeed have another son. But to what purpose?
His father would only deny him and then have him beaten for the affront and embarrassment.
Anger overrode the jealousy as his father proudly kissed Ryssa and then Styxx.
"To my beloved children," he said to the crowd once more. "Long may they live."
A deafening shout rose up from everyone except Acheron who couldn't breathe from the weight of agony and rejection.
I am the eldest . . .
"You are a deformed whore and a slave." Estes's voice echoed from his past. "You don't speak unless you're addressed. You are never to look anyone in the face. You should be grateful I even tolerate you in my house. Now get on your knees and please me."
Acheron wanted to die as shame filled him. His father was right. There was nothing about him worth loving and definitely nothing that warranted any kind of pride. Hanging his head, he made his way up the stairs and to his bedroom.
His heart heavy, he lowered the cowl, grateful there was no mirror here to remind him of why he deserved nothing save the scorn of decent people.
"Acheron?"
He froze at the whisper behind him. "What do you want, Artemis?"
"I want my friend back."
Acheron closed his eyes against the tears that he hid inside himself. He wanted so desperately to have value to someone. Anyone. Not for what he earned for them, but because they cared for him.
Artemis moved to stand just behind him. So close he could feel her presence as if they were touching. "I've missed you."
He wanted to rail at her. To scream out how much he hated what she'd done to him.
To beg her not to ever hurt him again.