The afternoon sun slanted into the dirty corner. The air smelled of mold and dust. Even the wind from the Scamander couldn't cover it.
Damp, heavy. A hint of rot underneath.
In this forgotten spot. Arinna stood there, small and thin.
Her brown hair was dry, like straw. The coat on her was too big, full of patches. Made her look even smaller. Like a gust could take her down.
She gripped a rough rope. Her knuckles white from strain. The rope's other end tied to a horse—barely more than bones. Maybe it was strong once. Not now.
Ribs stuck out like old lyre strings. The coat was rough and dull, bald in places. Its eyes cloudy, covered in gray.
Its legs trembled faintly as it stood. Every breath seemed a final struggle against fate.
"Just one thousand Obols..."
Her voice was hoarse from long hours of crying and hawking. She pleaded with the few passersby.
"Please, good sir, my lady, in the gods' names, buy him... He can still walk. He still obeys..."
(Note: Coined currency did not yet exist in this era of ancient Greece. Trade was conducted by weight of precious metal.
One thousand Obols of silver was roughly equivalent to half a year's pay for a professional soldier.
A healthy horse cost around twenty thousand Obols. But this one was emaciated beyond recovery.
Buying it might only be for slaughter and meat. Horse flesh was tough and stringy. Hence, no one was interested.)
Most passersby covered their noses and detoured. A portly merchant sneered.
"That piece of junk? Better off slaughtered for meat. Save on feed."
A rough mercenary shoved Arinna aside as she tried to approach. "Piss off, you little beggar! Out of my way!"
Then Creusa and Aeneas approached.
Creusa stopped involuntarily. Her brow furrowed. Her gaze fixed on the pitiful scene.
She said quietly to Aeneas, her voice full of distress. "That horse... It looks like it's dying."
Aeneas looked at the horse. Then at the girl's stubborn, desperate eyes. He replied softly.
"It looks like the one who can't hold on much longer... isn't just the horse."
Arinna noticed the richly dressed Creusa and Aeneas stopping. It was like grasping a final straw.
She trembled as she bowed to Creusa. Her cuffs were torn. Thin wrists showed beneath the fabric.
"Noble lady... I beg you, please, show mercy. Help me."
Her voice was thick with suppressed tears.
"My mother... she's very sick. Can't leave her bed... I need money for her medicine.
And... and my younger sister. Slave-takers took her this morning... I have to buy her back..."
Creusa was utterly stunned. Strong shock and pity flashed in her eyes.
She had never confronted suffering so raw, so direct.
She stepped forward. Ignored her robes trailing in the dirt. Bent down. Tried to make her voice sound gentle and harmless.
"Poor child. Where is your mother now? Tell us. We can send someone to help her."
But Arinna scrubbed her face hard with her sleeve. Wiping away tears and grime. She shook her head stubbornly.
"Thank you, my lady. But... I don't need charity."
She straightened her small, thin frame. Her voice was unusually firm.
"If you would just buy the horse... the money... then it's something I earned myself."
"Only then... only then can I go save my sister."
That stubborn pride—far beyond her age. Even Aeneas lifted a brow at that. Quiet, a bit impressed.
Creusa looked back at the thin horse. The animal seemed to feel the girl's grief.
It stared at Arinna with dark, wet eyes. There was something human in them. Sad, tired.
Creusa felt her chest tighten.
Her voice grew softer, gentler. "You... you love this horse very much, don't you?"
Arinna nodded fiercely. Tears finally fell. Carving two clean paths through the dust on her cheeks.
"Mother says... when I was little, he ran for our lives... saved me and Mother..."
"But we're so poor now... we can't care for him anymore..."
"I... I can't just watch him starve to death in front of me..."
As she spoke, Arinna's hand gently stroked the horse's bony neck. The dying animal lowered its head meekly. A final farewell.
The sight made Achates, standing further back, turn his head away. Even the usually boisterous Euryalus was uncharacteristically quiet.
Creusa's throat felt tight. She'd seen nobles cry in the palace's golden halls. Over a lost prized stallion.
But this—this was different. She'd never seen such profound sorrow. Such attachment for a skeletal horse.
She instinctively glanced at Aeneas, seeking his opinion. She found him looking back at her. He wore that teasing expression of his. The one that said, 'I'm ready and waiting, just give the word, your highness.'
He leaned close to Creusa. Whispered. "You're not actually thinking of buying this... uh... 'promising' specimen, are you?"
Creusa hesitated. "I can't bring a clearly useless horse back to the palace, but..." Her eyes drifted back to the still-trembling girl.
"But you want to help her, right?" Aeneas finished for her. A sly, warm smile spread across his face. "Leave it to me."
He crouched down. Brought his eyes level with Arinna's. Spoke in a light, easy tone, treating her as an equal.
"Hey there. You're selling this horse, right? Well, I'm interested." His manner was natural, kind. No trace of the usual noble condescension.
Arinna's eyes lit up instantly, like stars suddenly blazing to life in the night sky. But the light faded just as fast.
She looked down, her voice timid. "But... sir... He's so very thin... You... you wouldn't hurt him after you buy him, would you?" Her fingers twisted the rough rope tightly. Her knuckles were white.
"Of course I wouldn't hurt him!"
Aeneas nodded emphatically, his expression serious, almost comically so.
"But here's the thing—I've no experience keeping horses.
What if something happened to him under my care? That would be cruel, wouldn't it?" He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness.
Arinna was baffled. She'd clearly never met a buyer like this. "Then... then why would you want to buy him?"
"Because I think he's cute! I love animals!" He declared with complete seriousness. Then he pointed at the horse. "And I bet he doesn't really want to leave you, does he?"
Arinna gave a timid nod. Her eyes welled up again.
"Tell you what," Aeneas said, his smile returning. His voice was light, almost musical. "You come and take care of him for me. I'll pay you a wage. How about that? You'll be my employee. In charge of this very horse."
Creusa spoke up softly. Her gray-blue eyes, uncertain. "What kind of deal is this supposed to be?"
Aeneas spoke fast and low. There was a trace of pride in it. "It's the perfect fusion of humanitarianism and economic circulation. You should be praising my cleverness."
Arinna's face was a mask of hesitation. Her voice was a tiny whisper. "But... my mother is very sick. She needs a physician now..."
Aeneas jumped in immediately. His tone was matter-of-fact. "Perfect timing. My estate has an excellent physician. You can bring your mother with you. As for the physician's fee, I can advance you the money."
Arinna remembered the more urgent matter. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes. Her voice trembled. "But my sister? The slave-takers took her just this morning..."
Aeneas shook his head. His analysis was calm, logical. "Just giving you money won't save your sister. Those slavers are bad men. If they see a young girl with money, they'll likely just take it. They might even take you, too!"
Arinna paled at the possibility. Her voice shook like a leaf in the wind. "Then... what should I do? I have to save my sister..."
Aeneas used a tone full of confidence and persuasion. He shot Creusa a look, asking for support. "The princess here and I are good people. We can help you. Come with us. We promise to help you get your sister back."
A final, small doubt surfaced. Arinna's voice was almost inaudible. "But... my home is outside the city walls. My mother... she can't walk..."
"That's what the horse is for, isn't it?" Aeneas said cheerfully, pointing at the skinny animal. His tone was breezy, as if solving a minor inconvenience. "He's thin, but he can carry your mother, can't he? We'll walk slowly with you. Once we reach the river, we'll take a boat. That'll be easier for everyone."
His words were like warm water, slowly dissolving the walls of fear and practical obstacles in Arinna's heart.
She finally looked up. A light named hope flickered back to life in her clear eyes. Like the first ray of dawn.
"You... you'll really help me? Help me save my sister? Heal my mother?" she asked carefully, a final thread of hesitation in her voice.
Aeneas dropped his playful demeanor. He nodded firmly. Raised one hand. Spoke with solemnity.
"I swear it. I swear it by my mother, the Goddess of Love and Beauty, Aphrodite. I will keep my promise." His voice was unusually clear in that moment. Each word seemed etched into the air.
Behind them, Achates and Nisus froze. He'd sworn by a deity's name.
Both stared, wide-eyed, shock and disbelief.
Achates's bronze face went pale. He murmured under his breath, "He dares... to swear so casually by the Goddess's name..."
Nisus added in a low, grave tone, "Truly... it seems the Lady Goddess really does dote on our young master excessively..."
Only Euryalus was doubled over with silent laughter, clutching his stomach. His obsidian arrowhead necklace swayed with his mirth. "He's a natural! Even with little girls, he's just perfect! Hahaha..." His laughter was unusually loud in the somber alley. Yet it injected a thread of life into the heavy scene.
Creusa watched quietly. Watched how Aeneas used words and wit, not mere power or coin, to rekindle the dying embers of hope in Arinna's eyes.
She noticed how he leaned forward as he spoke. Maintaining eye level. Those usually teasing eyes now held genuine warmth.
Arinna's grip on the rope gradually loosened. Her thin shoulders stopped trembling. This subtle shift was more convincing than any speech.
She had meant to object. To question him. But seeing the rekindled light in the girl's eyes, the words stuck in her throat.
She understood clearly—this man was saving the girl. In a way she had never seen before.
This wasn't the condescending pity common in court. It was a strange, clever wisdom. One that wove dignity and aid together seamlessly.
She looked at Aeneas. Her voice was soft, complex. "Are you... deceiving her?" The words were light, as if afraid to shatter the fragile hope. But her gaze was sharp, scrutinizing.
Aeneas smiled. Gave an ambiguous, almost philosophical reply.
"If you think it is, then it is. If you think it isn't, then it isn't." As he spoke, the sunlight caught the tips of his curly hair. Gilding him in a golden outline.
"And your conscience?" Creusa pressed. Her fingers rose unconsciously to the crystal pendant at her neck. A habitual gesture when thinking. The cool touch helped her focus.
Aeneas pointed playfully at the skinny horse, which had relaxed slightly, sensing its owner's eased distress.
"My conscience is currently tied to that horse. Look! I think he's smiling!" Indeed, the horse was rubbing its nose against Arinna's hand—gently, almost cautiously. Something flickered in its dull eyes.
It was absurd, and somehow that made Creusa laugh.
It came out light, unguarded—like something heavy inside her had let go, just for a breath.
She covered her mouth quickly, but the faint crease at her eyes betrayed her.
She looked at him. Said softly, "You are a... dangerous man." It sounded less like an accusation and more like a kind of awed acknowledgment.
Aeneas blinked. Ran with it.
"True. But we have an even more 'dangerous' trip ahead. Dealing with those slave-takers.
So, your highness, care to join me in playing the role of righteous avengers?" He held out a hand in invitation. That trademark, roguish smile played on his lips.
Creusa didn't hesitate. A smile crept onto her face. Bright. Determined. A little strange, even to her. She didn't know she had that in her.
For a moment, she wasn't a princess locked away. Just a girl. Ready for an adventure.
"Absolutely!" Her voice held a vitality she hadn't felt in a long time. "This time, I'm taking the lead!" She didn't realize how long it had been since she'd felt such a strong desire to be part of something. To take charge.