Styxx opened his purse and pulled out the herbs his uncle had sent home with him. Wanting to get away from everything, he went to his bed. But not even that was comforting.
His father had placed all of his linens and pillows in here, not knowing that the smallest pillow on that bed had belonged to Acheron.
Styxx ground his teeth as a wave of pain so severe it left his heart bleeding ravaged him. They had been so close as boys. Best friends. He'd shared everything with Acheron.
And now ...
Acheron hated him as much as Ryssa did. His brother had no use for him whatsoever.
He winced as he remembered Estes's confessed perversions about his time in Atlantis. He still didn't know if it was true or not. I hope to the gods that I never know. Because he wasn't sure he could handle it if it was the truth.
Dropping his cloak, he looked down at the bruises that verified his use. Why wouldn't the damn things heal already? Not that it would matter. Even once they were gone, he'd still be branded as a whore.
That mark would be with him forever.
Unable to deal with it, he dropped a handful of herbs into the kylix near his bed and poured wine over them. The sooner he could drug or drink himself into oblivion, the happier he'd be. He gulped it all down in one shot and then glared at the pillow that reminded him of the childhood he'd lost. The love and friendship he'd never have again.
The innocence.
Most of all, it reminded him of the fact that when he'd risked his life to save Acheron, Acheron had called out for Estes and caused Styxx to be taken. While he'd tried to free Acheron, Acheron had trapped him.
"You fucking bastard!" he snarled, grabbing the pillow. His rage spurring him, he threw it into the fire and let the flames burn it to embers.
Then he sank to his knees on the floor and tried his best to blot out everything. But it was useless. The new memories tortured him even more than his old ones had.
I am damned.
And there was no escape from his mind that flogged him a thousand times worse than any scold ever could.
October 30, 9533 BC
"Did you say or do something to your sister?"
It took Styxx a moment to make sense of those words from his father. He'd only seen her once since his return. She'd asked him about Acheron and he'd refused to speak a word of anything to do with Atlantis. She'd called him selfish, slapped him, and left.
Blinking, he looked up from his breakfast and shook his head. "No, Father. Why?"
"She's gone to visit my sister in Athens. I know she gets her whims and travels, but this one seems more sudden than normal."
Styxx rubbed at his brow as his head spun. While the herbs Estes had given him made his thinking fuzzy, they removed the pain and voices. It was worth the delayed reaction time to have that small peace.
"Ryssa doesn't talk to me about such things. Perhaps you should ask Mother."
"She flies into a rage if I go near her."
But she never tried to stab you in the heart.
"Then I'm at a loss, Father. I've never understood Ryssa's mind."
"I wonder if it has anything to do with her maid...."
"Her maid?"
"The one you impregnated. Ryssa's been in a foul mood since the chit confessed it. She dismissed her immediately."
"I didn't-"
His father held his hand up to silence him. "I took care of the matter. Don't let it concern you."
If he were sober, he probably would, but as it was ... whatever.
His father left him.
"I still didn't sleep with her," he mumbled, reaching for his kylix of wine. He'd never touched a woman and now he doubted if he ever would.
Even his wife.
The last thing he wanted was to risk anyone seeing the word on his groin. And with a woman, if she did, she'd run and tell everyone about it because that was what they all did. He had yet to meet one capable of a maintaining a secret unless it protected her.
As for men?
He'd rather die than ever do that again. So here he was, a well-trained tsoulus who was celibate. He would laugh if the entire matter didn't sicken him so.
Estes had taken much more than his virginity and innocence ... more than his little brother, he'd stolen part of Styxx's soul and all of his future.
How could he ever trust anyone now?
All of his dreams of finding a woman who could love him ... gone as fast as Estes had drugged him that first time.
He would hate his uncle if he had any room left for it. But he hated himself too much to hate anyone else.
Fuck it, he snarled silently as he reached for his pouch and pulled out more of the herbs. He was getting low on them. Later, he'd go into town and see if he could find someone who peddled them.
For now.
He sucked his breath in sharply as a sudden pain went through him, and placed his hand to his groin where the brand still hurt at times. The moment his fingers accidentally brushed against his cock, he jerked his hand away.
I can't even masturbate now. Because every time he touched himself, even to bathe or piss, he remembered Estes holding him with their hands entwined....
Grimacing in distaste and horror, Styxx grabbed the rest of the herbs and dumped them in his cup. "I just want to forget everything."
He downed the entire contents of the cup and cursed out loud. Why, when Estes had the ability to remove it, had his uncle left him with the memory of the nine days he'd spent with them in the woods?
Because he's a fucking sadistic whoreson.
And Styxx was his well-used whore.
November 4, 9533 BC
Styxx clenched his hand before his father saw it shaking uncontrollably. They were holding open court sessions for the nobles and citizens, and he knew well how his father reacted whenever he tried to excuse himself. He ground his teeth to keep them from chattering.
What is wrong with me?
He felt ill and disoriented, and for once, he hadn't drugged himself. Theoretically, he was sober. But it sure didn't seem that way.
"Majesty? Is His Highness all right?"
Styxx cringed at the senator who'd asked the question. Why did someone always have to pull him into a fire?
His father glanced over at him then gaped. "Styxx? Are you ill?"
He wiped at the sweat in his eyes. "I'm fine, Father."
To his shock, his father came over to him. "Look at me."
He obeyed as his father placed his hand to his brow.
"Fetch a physician!" His father stepped back. "Teris? Carry the prince to his bed and be quick about it."
He must be near death for his father to be this concerned. "I'm fine, Father. We can continue."
His father shook his head as Teris, his father's personal guard, moved to pick Styxx up. "Have the rest of the sessions canceled with my apologies. Tell them we'll resume in the morning."
When Teris reached to touch him, Styxx bolted from his throne. "I can walk." But it wasn't easy. He was so dizzy.
"At least let Teris help you."
Styxx shook his head. He never wanted to feel another pair of male hands on his body again. They could all rot in Tartarus.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Galen appeared by his side. "Give me your arm, Highness."
Styxx relaxed at the presence of the one and only person he trusted, and did as Galen ordered. At least when Galen knocked him around, he was open about it.
And Styxx always had a weapon in his hand.