Aeneas was furious. But his anger felt like bees trapped in a clay pot. Buzzing. No way out.
His help for Thaleia came from a genuine, selfless place. But in this era, that sounded like a pathetic lie.
Think about it. A stranger shows up. Brings a critically ill man. No payment. No benefit. Just a string of future troubles. Why help?
For the dying patient? Or the bunch of poor people who'll need more help later?
The only logical explanation was the beautiful girl herself.
If you didn't want her body, what other reason was there?
Yes, he'd helped Arinna before. Saved Talia and the five other slave girls. But wasn't that to impress Princess Creusa?
It worked perfectly. Everyone in Troy knew. His date yesterday made the icy princess smile. No one had ever seen her so happy.
Aeneas's mouth twisted into a bitter line.
Letting the little pickpocket Karik go. Helping Lady Puduhepa. It could all be explained. "To make the princess happy."
In everyone's eyes, it was a political calculation. All "to impress Princess Creusa."
These thoughts made him seethe. His body trembled with suppressed rage.
He felt a throbbing in his temples. But he hid it. Didn't want to hurt Thaleia. Forced himself to take deep breaths.
Helping Thaleia and Sergestus today? The only reasonable explanation this era accepted was that he wanted Thaleia. The woman.
Achates and the other guards believed it. Even old Demos in the courtyard agreed.
Why else could Thaleia reach his door so easily?
Aeneas remembered Demos's knowing smile this evening. It clearly said "The young master's finally come to his senses."
Thaleia believed it too. Even... his father Anchises and mother Aresya probably agreed. They hadn't objected to his rescue. Wasn't that silent approval?
Their son wants a pretty girl. Gets her through generosity. A beautiful thing, right?
This was the accepted value of the time. No underhanded tactics. No abuse of power or schemes. Just generous giving. And grateful offering. A praiseworthy, romantic deed. No one saw a problem.
Except Aeneas himself.
In the distance, patrol guards' footsteps echoed in the night. Everything operated by this era's rules.
Only he was like a piece dropped into the wrong time. He didn't fit on the board.
Aeneas bent down silently. Picked up the slender belt from the floor.
He let Thaleia keep wearing the oversized male robe. Stood before her. Began, clumsily, to tie the belt for her.
His fingers were unpracticed. But unusually careful. Gentle. As if handling fragile treasure.
Thaleia stared blankly at Aeneas's focused profile. Her long lashes cast tiny shadows on her cheeks.
Her voice was soft. Carried a faint tremor. "Young master... is it... that you find my body unworthy?"
Aeneas shook his head gently. His deep eyes, usually full of laughter, were completely serious.
"No. I value you highly, Thaleia."
His voice was clear in the quiet night. "But I want more than just your body."
Thaleia didn't fully understand. But she saw his sincere eyes. His gentle manner. He didn't explain further. Still, she believed him.
The blankness in her eyes faded. Replaced by confusion. And a glimmer of relief.
Aeneas bent down. Gathered her fallen clothes and cloak. He threw a robe over his own shoulders. Then he took her hand naturally.
His grasp was warm. Steady. A fighter's calloused hand. But it held no force. He led her from the room. Into the silent corridor.
The stone hallway was a patchwork of light and shadow. Moonlight and distant torchlight.
Patrolling guards saw their young master. Holding the hand of a girl clad only in a man's robe. They tactfully looked away. Or gave slight, understanding nods.
Their faces said "As it should be."
One young guard even flashed a discreet, admiring smile at Aeneas.
It sparked another wave of frustration inside him. But he just tightened his grip on Thaleia's hand. Kept walking steadily.
They reached her temporary room. Aeneas returned her clothes. Then he patted her head. Like comforting a companion.
The gesture was a bit too familiar. But also reassuring.
He spoke softly. "No more wild thoughts. Get some rest. I'm counting on you to find those wretched bandits tomorrow."
He turned and left.
Thaleia obeyed. Didn't step outside again.
She leaned against the cold wooden door. Stared for a long time at the corner where he'd disappeared. Her heartbeat was loud in the silence.
The steady tread of guards echoed from the hall's end. It felt like it came from another world.
She looked down at the robe. It smelled faintly of the young noble. Sunshine and herbs.
Her fingers rose to trace the strange knot at her waist.
It was shaped like a butterfly with unfurled wings. Delicate. Unlike anything she'd ever seen.
A gentle smile touched her lips. The first in a long time.
The heart she'd locked tight since her brother's injury seemed to crack open. Just a little.
Three doors down, a guest room door creaked open a sliver. Five small heads—Terani, Arinna, Karik, Talia, and Mira—peeked out. They stacked like curious kittens, tallest to shortest. Watching everything in the corridor.
After Aeneas left and Thaleia closed her door, the children softly shut their own. They immediately formed a circle on the moonlit floor. A lively "late-night discussion session" began.
Five pairs of eyes gleamed in the dark. Like little nocturnal creatures.
Talia blinked her big, doe-like brown eyes. "But Terani, you said she wasn't coming back tonight! You said she'd totally sleep in the young master's room! So why is she here?" She sounded genuinely puzzled.
Arinna leaned in close and whispered, "It's true… So weird! Why would the young master send her back? She's so pretty! Is he really that picky?" Her tone was disbelief.
Terani pressed a finger to her chin. Her fluffy brown curls swayed as she tilted her head, frowning slightly. "It's weird… I mean, the young master was super gentle when he brought her back, right? And you saw Miss Thaleia's smile when she closed the door—she looked totally fine. Not rejected at all. If anything… kinda happy?"
Karik crossed his arms, wearing a smug look. "See? You're overthinking it! You're thinking like it's some regular noble guy. The young master's a real hero—he wouldn't do anything weird like that."
He was immediately met with twin glares from Terani and Arinna.
The two girls spoke in unison, indignant. "What do you mean 'weird like that'? This is juicy gossip! It's romantic! You know nothing, you stupid boy!"
Talia didn't fully understand what "juicy gossip" meant. But as a girl, she instinctively sided with the others. She nodded earnestly, her shell necklace clicking softly as she moved.
Karik was cowed by their intensity. His eyes darted around for a lifeline. They landed on the confused little Mira. "Mira, what do you think?"
Little Mira hugged his oddly-shaped, ragged cloth rabbit. He said vaguely, "I don't know… Could it be… the young master prefers the clumsy type? Like Terani?"
A look of collective enlightenment dawned on the children's faces. In the moonlight, confusion vanished from three little faces. Replaced by this seemingly logical explanation.
Only Terani turned bright red. Flustered, she grabbed Mira's cheeks and gave them a hard squish, shaking his face back and forth.
"Explain yourself! What do you mean 'the clumsy type'? What's wrong with me, huh? I'm not that clumsy! The young master does like me—I mean, he does! Just… not like that like that! Right?"
Her voice cracked, then shrank. Her face was burning. The other children burst into hushed giggles.