He broke off, the name catching in his throat. A familiar ache tightened in his chest. Memories of a brave girl with shimmering green eyes who claimed she’d met the Huntress in person flickered through his mind.
“Alena,” Theo said quietly.
Nik nodded, swallowing hard. She’d promised to come back. Said she needed time to train and grow stronger. Yet months had passed, and not a single word. He missed her, and so did Leukos.
Although his friend never spoke of her, Nik saw it in the quiet way he moved through his days—the brooding silences, the way his gaze searched for her among the crowd when they walked the city streets. Leukos missed her, whether he admitted it or not.
They continued down the hall in silence.
The palace reminded Nik of Megara, its layout nearly identical. But where Megara’s halls were carved from marble and glittered with mosaics, Tiryns was all sandstone and painted frescoes. Every wall bore scenes of Achaean legends; every corner, a god in stone.
The Grey-Eyed Maiden favoured Tiryns, shielding it with an unbreakable barrier so long as a Gifted royal sat on the throne, the protection held.
Beyond that invisible wall, Rasennan barricades sliced through the valley. Their tents spread across the hills like mould, choking the land. Tiryns had become the new Megara: surrounded, besieged, with nowhere for Queen Charis and her people to run.
The walls enclosed a little farmland, a scattering of fruit and olive trees that bore endlessly, a Gift from the Giver, but even so, food was scarce.
The palace, however, never seemed to go without. There was always plenty of food on the table, even fresh meat now and then.
Two figures clad in Achaean steel scale armour, marked with Tirynthian amber geometric patterns, appeared at the corridor’s end and halted.
Nik swore under his breath.
“Still avoiding them?” Theo asked quietly.
“I’ve already heard every insult from just about everyone since I arrived.” He let out a sharp breath. There was no way around the two figures closing in. “Whatever those two have to say will be worse.”
Theo studied him for a moment with that familiar gaze, wise and thoughtful, like the goddess who’d Gifted him. “They’re still your kin, Nik. The only ones you have left.”
Nik grumbled. The rebellion was his family now—Leukos, Theo, Alena… Even the gentle San and her turbulent boy, Kaixo, had grown on him.
The twins blocking the hall ahead might be his cousins on his father’s side, but he hadn’t seen them in years. Like many Achaeans, their parents had fled to Tiryns after the loss at the Battle of Kendrisia, and as nobles with the Messenger as their patron, they’d been welcomed into the palace.
Danaos had risen to general in the army; Despoina trained as a palace guard. Nik’s father had once told him of their rare Gift—the ability to transport others across great distances—but Nik had never witnessed it.
“Cousin, you finally make an appearance.” Danaos’ voice was curt. His blue eyes, the same rare shade as Nik’s, were believed to be a trait specific to the descendants of the gods. However,Argos, the city where Nik’s family originated, had a busy port that drew traders from across the Great Sea, many with light eyes and fair hair.
Nik had no desire to dwell on the past. He didn’t know what his cousin wanted, and he wasn’t about to stick around to find out. “We’ve been summoned by our prince.”
He started to move past, but Danaos caught him with a firm hand on his chest. “Not so fast. We haven’t seen you in years, and this is how you greet us?”
Despoina stepped forward, her golden hair held back in a tight braid. “Brother,” she hissed. “Not now.”
Nik met Danaos’ glare head-on. “And how exactly do you want to be greeted?”
Danaos’ fingers clenched, grabbing a fistful of Nik’s tunic. “Do you know how hard it’s been for us all these years?”
“Enough.” Despoina’s eyes flicked down the empty hall, though no one was near.
“Cousins to the traitor?” Danaos spat, never breaking eye contact. “When you aided in the Megarian massacre, your actions dishonoured our family. Yet, you don’t seem to care.”
Nik gave him a humourless laugh and shoved Danaos’ hand away. They knew so little. “You’re right. I don’t.”
Theo shook his head beside him. “Nik?—”
But Nik had already stepped away. Danaos wanted an apology or words of remorse, and he had none to give. Those words belonged to Leukos, not to his cousins, who didn’t know the first thing about that terrible night.
Danaos moved to block him again, face hardening, voice rising. “Your betrayal nearly killed our parents. Our family’s still stained because of you. I may be a general, but I have no title to pass on, and Despoina will never get a marriage proposal.”
