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Kallias thought the court of Vere would be different.It was a wonder he even made it this far, really. After Theomedes died and Kastor took the crown, Kallias didn’t have much to do. Kastor had never really favored him, and called him to his chamber less than once a month.But it didn’t matter that he wasn’t very esteemed in the king’s eyes when Damianos returned and reclaimed his stolen throne. It didn’t matter that he’d had no part in the kidnapping of the Crown Prince. Kallias and the rest of Kastor’s household were thrown in the dungeon.Kallias had felt all the years of his training going to waste, down there in the dark among the rats and filth, as his beauty fell away, replaced with cuts and calluses and harsh lines. And when King Damianos had learned of the household’s imprisonment and come to demand they be set free, things went from bad to worse.“Set free” turned out to be a full truth—Kallias’s collar and cuffs were removed, and he was turned out of the palace with nothing but the ragged, filthy clothes on his back.Ruined though his looks and prospects might have been, Kallias still had his talents, trained for years to sharp perfection. He might have had some success at the brothels, had he tried there, but he hadn’t even much liked being bedded by the prince. He couldn’t imagine he’d enjoy spreading for every ruffian with a couple of coppers to rub together.Instead, he recited epic poems in taverns, feeling the loss of his kithara greatly. He slept in the corners of alleys and scrounged scraps of food from refuse heaps until he saved enough coin to buy his own rough instrument. The wood was knotted and it lost its tuning in less than an hour, but it added the accompaniment he needed to sing.Things got better for a little while after that—he earned enough money to sleep with a roof over his head at least a few nights out of the week, and he could buy bread and sometimes meat.And then King Damianos freed all the slaves, and the desperate hold Kallias had carved out for himself eroded entirely away.Now there were hundreds of talented young performers, a dozen or more per tavern, and the others, unlike Kallias, hadn’t had their youthful good looks ruined by Kastor’s treatment and a stint in a dungeon.So he’d packed up his few belongings, slung his kithara over his back, and headed north.Passage to Vere was easy, now that the kingdoms were united. The border was a bit rough, but by the time Kallias made it there he had learned to carry a dagger and use it effectively, if not expertly. North of the border, he had to contend only with the bandits, and falling in with a merchant caravan usually helped keep them mostly at bay. Merchants never asked for more than he could pay, either in coppers or in trade—more often as a bodyguard than a bard, but that was alright. He did not offer services like he had given the prince, though he was asked, once or twice.Kallias made something of a name for himself as a bard along the way. He was not absurdly modest—he knew he was good. Among the best, or he never would have been chosen for the royal household, let alone a prince’s chambers. And he realized that the people of both Akielos and Vere enjoyed not only the old epic poems and songs, but new ones as well, especially recounting the trials and triumph of their new kings.Kallias had set about composing new ballads, and word spread about the young Akielon singer with eyes like the sky and a voice like the trumpets of gods. So when he reached Arles, he was pleased to learn the palace staff had heard of him. He gave them a taste of his talents, and they agreed that he would be allowed to come perform for the kings and the rest of the court.And now he was here, a disgraced Southern slave in a Veretian court, and all he could think was that the palace at Arles was so very like the one in Ios.Not in the literal sense, of course—where Ios was all smooth, polished marble open to catch the breeze off the sea, Arles was intricately carved wood hung with drapes and tapestries, sealed up against the Northern chill. But the tales Kallias had heard of Arles described it as a debauched lair of sex and violence, a wild arena where even kings rutted for all to see.What he saw now was merely a gathering of courtiers, such as any other—some looking haughty and bored, others in casual or pointed discussions. A few beautiful young people done up in bright colors and bedecked in jewels hung about the more stately courtiers, and Kallias knew these to be pets, but there weren’t very many. The practice seemed to be falling out of fashion, from the rumors he’d heard.The kings sat together on twin thrones—a double chair made expressly for the purpose, as Kallias understood it. Pale, golden King Laurent sat with a straight back beside darker, larger King Damen, their arms and legs touching where the double thrones met, their little fingers linked together. Around them thronged nobles on cushioned benches, a few of whom wore heavy chains of office around their necks.And one man—Kallias’s heart stopped beating entirely, then started up again double time. An older man with dark hair turning silver at the temples sat beside King Damianos, and on his other side was a man Kallias’s own age—a man who had not left Kallias’s thoughts even a single day since the last time they had seen each other.Erasmus.It took all of Kallius’s concentration not to let his knees give out. Erasmus was alive. Erasmus was alive, and he looked well—in fact, he looked excellent. Kallius hadn’t known, after that day, what had become of him. He had done what he could for him, then he’d had to trust in the fates to be kind to Erasmus. And he’d thought of him, every day since, wondering if he had made it, if he was alright, if he was happy. He had one answer now, at least. Erasmus had lived.And lived well, if his appearance was anything to go by. The golden collar and cuffs still glittered at his throat and on his wrists. His clothing was the Patran style but fashioned from rich fabrics, boasting ruffles and lace and embroidery. His cheeks were round and full and pink, and his hair was thick and lustrous, glinting golden in the light of the chandeliers overhead.Erasmus turned from murmuring something in the ear of the older man and locked eyes with Kallias, and the sweet smile slid off his lips like melted butter. His gaze turned stormy, and his knuckles whitened as his hands curled into fists.The older man turned to regard him with an expression of concern, but what happened after, Kallias didn’t know, because the kings were waiting and he was standing in the middle of the room and he was obliged to begin.So he put Erasmus at the back of his mind, took up his kithara, and began to sing. For this he was trained—no, for this he was made, to set aside every thought and give himself over entirely to a performance for royalty. So he managed not to glance at Erasmus, managed almost not to even think of him, as he sang the ballad of the heroic deeds of King Damianos and King Laurent.When the first song finished, the courtiers all applauded enthusiastically, including the kings. Kallias bowed and risked a glance at Erasmus. Erasmus was speaking quickly to the older man at his side, whose brows drew together as he nodded. Erasmus stood and turned, then hurried quickly out a door at the back of the room.The commotion turned several heads, including both kings’. King Damianos frowned, but King Laurent tilted his head thoughtfully. Then he looked back at Kallias, raising one hand and beckoning him forward.Kallias went, kneeling and bowing his head before the king.“You’re acquainted with that slave,” King Laurent said.It wasn’t a question, but Kallias replied, “I am, Exalted.”He felt the stares of the room on him, and a hot prickle across his skin at having caught the attention of this king. Had King Laurent praised Kallias’s performance, gaining his notice might have been a good thing. But Erasmus was obviously enslaved to the man who sat beside King Damianos, the two of them now muttering quietly. Kallias’s heart thudded heavily beneath his ribs, and he had to clench his fists to stop his hands from shaking. He didn’t think he really managed it.“Stand up, then,” said King Laurent, “and tell us the tale of Erasmus, as you know it.”Kallias lifted his head and clambered to his feet. He had prepared no such tale. Yet despite being disgraced these many long months, he had been trained for the palace, and his body knew well how to perform beautifully under pressure.So, rather than merely relating the facts, he strummed his kithara and sang a great story—a boy trained for the glorious and benevolent Prince Damianos, a boy of unending beauty and sweet disposition, whose many talents put his fellows to shame. The boy was brilliant and kind and dedicated, and he was good at everything he attempted. But his good nature made him too trusting, and so when he saw someone he knew well, he was not suspicious. That other wretch desired Erasmus and tried to take him by force, and yet, when caught, placed the blame on the sweet young man’s shoulders. So the boy’s prospects were ruined, his training wasted. By the grace of the gods he was sent away from Akielos and found his way to Patras, where he was taken in by a good and generous master, whose magnanimous friends allowed him to sit among royalty. And so Erasmus did not meet a terrible fate, despite how close he came to utter ruin.When Kallias finished, his chest heaved with breath, as though he had run a very great distance. The full attention of the court was on him now, the silence heavy. King Damianos was staring hard at him, his brow furrowed. The man beside him, Erasmus’s master, looked stricken.King Laurent’s face betrayed nothing of his feelings. He regarded Kallias with cool blue eyes, his head tilted.“Tell us,” said King Laurent, “how a young man trained as a slave for an Akielon prince comes to be singing in a palace in Arles.”Kallias swallowed hard, his heart hammering. He had not mentioned his own role in Erasmus’s story—keeping the identity of his betrayer anonymous—but the king had, of course, seen right through him.Yet how could Kallias possibly tell him what had happened to him, especially with King Damianos right there? It was Damianos’s word that had turned Kallias out into the streets, then Damianos’s proclamation that had flooded those same streets with thousands of slaves pushing their way into every job. To refuse to answer the king would forfeit Kallias his tongue, no doubt, but to speak at all meant condemning the actions of another king. And to lie was unthinkable.Kallias sought his voice, and pushed past the nerves that tried to hold back the words.“I— I was a member of King Kastor’s household, Exalted.”King Laurent frowned. “Were you exiled when Kastor was killed?”“No, Exalted.” Kallias shook his head. “I was imprisoned, for a little while, but King Damianos-exalted graciously released me.” He fought an impulse to glance at King Damianos as he said his name. “I found work for a time in taverns, but when— when—” King Damianos was sitting right there, and Kallias was about to tell the entire room that his decision had been fraught. He pushed on. “King Damianos-exalted, in his great mercy, gave all slaves their freedom. And I— there were so many of them looking for work, and their faces had not been ruined, as mine had, and so I— I could not compete—”“So you came north, where there were fewer of them,” King Laurent finished for him.King Damianos, beside him, made a low sound and shifted in his seat, but a small touch of King Laurent’s fingers on his wrist stopped him.“I did, Exalted.” Kallias rushed on boldly, “And Vere has been so kind to me, and Your Majesty is so good, to allow me to perform for you. I am so tremendously grateful.”King Laurent regarded him a moment longer, then said, “I wish to speak to you in private.” He turned and lifted a hand, and a liveried servant appeared at his elbow. “Escort our young bard here to the balcony.”The servant bowed, then took Kallias by the elbow and steered him from the room. They went a very short distance to a grand balcony, with a beautiful view of the city. If Kallias had been there under different conditions, he would have admired the scattered peaked roofs of the buildings below, the glow of candles burning in windows, and the twinkle of stars overhead. As it was, he stood trembling, wondering whether he ought to save them all the trouble and fling himself over the railing. He cast a glance at the servant, who stood ramrod straight beside the door, and considered that they very likely would stop him.No, the king had said he wanted to speak to Kallias, and Kallias did not have it in him to refuse a king. So he remained, his stomach in a tight knot, his breath still short, and his palms clammy.He was not alone for long. The doors opened and remained that way, letting warm, golden light spill out onto the balcony, as King Laurent strode out. Kallias dropped to his knees, only barely stopping himself from prostrating before him as he had done as a slave.“Stand up,” said the king, so Kallias did so.King Laurent was alone. The merriment carried on behind him—over his shoulder, Kallias could just glimpse King Damianos speaking to Erasmus’s master, but the chatter of voices was rising, lively and happy.“We were unaware of the plight of the former slaves,” King Laurent said. “We thank you for bringing it to our attention.”Kallias bit hard on his tongue, an urge to deny having done any such thing rising in him. He would not speak out of turn to a king.“As a gesture of our appreciation, we bestow upon you ten thousand gold sideris.”As Kallias gasped, King Laurent flicked his wrist, and the servant at the door ducked their head in a bow, then hurried away.The deference and humility of Kallias’s training warred in his chest, until he blurted, “Exalted, please, I cannot accept such a generous gift.”“It is not a gift,” said the king simply. “As I said, it is a show of gratitude for the very valuable information you have brought to me and King Damianos. You need not draw it from our treasury for use, but it’s yours already. My servant has gone to secure it for you. The deed is done.”“I—” Kallias’s vision swam. Ten thousand gold sideris. It was enough to buy a house. It might even buy a whole estate. “I cannot thank you enough, Exalted, truly.”“We also value talent such as yours. We’d like to offer you a position here at court, as a royal bard. You would receive rooms, and of course your meals would be provided. You would be paid a yearly stipend. You would be expected to entertain us here, and occasionally accompany us to other locations throughout the kingdom, at our request.”Kallias was going to scream or pass out or maybe just die, it was certain. He didn’t deserve any of this. There were better bards, more comely ones, and men with much better presence in front of kings. He finally found his tongue. “I— I am honored and humbled, truly, Exalted, I—”King Laurent held up a hand, and Kallias snapped his mouth shut. “Don’t answer just yet. Think it over for a few days. Decide whether you truly want to accept. I will collect your answer soon.” He took a step closer, and Kallias could feel his gaze on him. “And I mean it. It’s an offer, not a demand. You’re under no obligation to accept. And the money is yours to keep, regardless. It is not conditional on your acceptance of this offer. Should you decline, you will leave here with our thanks and goodwill, and the money that is already yours to keep.”He set a hand lightly on Kallias’s shoulder, then turned away and went back to the throne room.Kallias watched until King Laurent was back at his throne, then stumbled to the wall and leaned heavily against it, fighting a swoon. Ten thousand gold sideris. Ten thousand! And a position at court! It was more than he could have ever dreamed of. In fact, he never would have been so bold to dream of such a thing at all—earning a stipend, having his own money, perhaps buying his own estate and having his own servants to look after him.He would wait until King Laurent came to get his answer, of course—it was the king’s wish that he do so, after all—but there was no chance at all that Kallias would decline. What could he possibly want that the gracious king had not pledged to provide?When he felt his wits return to him, Kallias straightened, smoothed his clothing, and went back inside. The courtiers were still gathered, after all, and he was a bard. It was his duty to entertain.And when he noticed that Erasmus’s dark-haired and powerful master had departed and that the two of them did not return, he almost managed not to care at all. Erasmus’s master sought Kallias out the next day.Kallias had been given a room in the palace—not a whole chambers, as he would get when he accepted King Laurent’s offer, just one room, but a lovely one—in an area that seemed to be undergoing some transition in purpose. The room was lavish, with a tall poster bed draped in rich blue velvet curtains, a cushioned chest, a table with two chairs, an intricately carved dresser, and a vanity with a clear, untarnished mirror and a little bench. A thick rug on the floor and a large fireplace kept the room cozy and warm against the Northern chill. Kallias appreciated the luxury, although he hung a spare jacket over the mirror, the better to avoid catching so much as a glimpse of his own haggard reflection. The beauty of his youth was entirely washed away now, and seeing his own face, lines etched deeply into its corners, clenched his heart with loss and regret every time.Kallias was sitting in the padded window seat, dreaming about the house he would buy with his newfound wealth, when there was a knock at the door. When he opened it, he blinked in surprise. Erasmus’s master stood outside.“May I come in?” he asked.Kallias realized he had entirely forgotten his etiquette. “Yes, please, of course.”He stood back to let the man enter, lost and wrong-footed. He didn’t know who this man was, so he wasn’t certain the respect he was to be afforded. He had addressed him with no title, not having any clue what office he held, yet he knew this was a mistake—a lowborn man would not have sat beside King Damianos and engaged him in hushed conversation.The man, perhaps sensing Kallias’s discomfort, introduced himself.“I am Torveld, Prince of Patras, and emissary of my brother, the king.”“Exalted.” Kallias prostrated himself at once, feeling the entire submissive posture the only possible recourse he had to ignoring the respect due a prince.Warm, gentle fingers tugged at his arms, urging him back up. “Tell me your name, young man.”Kallias kept his head bowed. “I am Kallias, Exalted.”“Kallias,” Prince Torveld repeated. He sighed. “My Erasmus knew you well, I understand.”“Yes, Exalted.” Kallias considered how much to relate, but he found the words spilling out of himself. “We grew up together. We trained for the palace together, first in the gardens of Nereus, then in the palace gardens.”“He cared for you.”Kallias swallowed hard. “He trusted me completely, Exalted.”Prince Torveld was silent a long time—so long that, had Kallias not been so precisely trained, he would have glanced up at him. But Kallias knew better than to impose on a prince.Finally, Torveld spoke. “I would like for you to come and speak with him.”Kallias did not tell the prince that he doubted very much that Erasmus wanted to see him.Perhaps the prince sensed as much, for he said, “His happiness means a great deal to me. And he has been troubled since your performance last night. It will help settle his mind, to speak with you. You can beg his forgiveness for what you did to him.”“Of course, Exalted.”“Only…” There was something wry and edged in Prince Torveld’s voice. “I am not sorry that you did it, for your betrayal led to his finding his way, in the end, to me.”Kallias didn’t say that he was also not sorry he had kissed Erasmus.But he was sorry that he had hurt him—sorry that it had been necessary to do so. Better that Erasmus live and hate him than die with love in his heart. But the wound to their friendship had grieved him ever since.So he nodded and followed Prince Torveld across labyrinthine passages to another wing of the palace.Prince Torveld left Kallias at a set of elaborately carved wooden doors. Kallias took a deep breath and knocked. From within, Erasmus’s muffled voice bade him enter.Kallias stepped inside a room even more lavish than his own. It was much larger, with its own balcony looking out over gardens beyond. Erasmus stood at the door to the balcony, his gaze on the gardens, his back to Kallias. Even from the doorway, Kallias could see he was trembling.“Your master bade me come speak with you,” Kallias began, entirely inadequately.Erasmus merely stood, staring into the distance and not acknowledging Kallias’s presence.Kallias tried again. “You’ve done very well for yourself. I’m glad to see it. You deserve to be valued highly and treated well.”Without turning around, Erasmus spoke. “I am doing this at Prince Torveld’s request, not because I wish to speak with you. I cannot imagine what you and I could possibly have to say to each other.”Kallias let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “I apologize for intruding. And I apologize that you are being forced to speak with me when it’s clear how much you despise me.”“I am not being forced.” Erasmus turned, fists clenched at his sides and fury in his gaze. “Prince Torveld does not force me to do anything. I am doing this because he asked me to, and I want to please him. For reasons that are entirely my own, and not out of fear of punishment if I don’t.”A hard lump formed in the middle of Kallias’s chest. The passion in Erasmus’s words, the vehemence in his voice, and the look in his eyes could mean only one thing. “You love him.”A softness stole over Erasmus’s features that expanded the ache in Kallias’s chest. “He is kind and generous and gentle. He is very good to me. He cares for me a great deal.”Kallias swallowed hard, fighting a stinging in his eyes as he looked down at the floor. “I am glad you have a kind master. So many of them are cruel.”“Yes,” said Erasmus, his voice hard, “I know that well.”Kallias snapped his gaze up to him. The words sliced through him, sharper than steel, cleaving open his heart. Erasmus had suffered at the hands of cruel masters. Although Kallias may have saved him from one terrible fate, he had condemned him to that. “Erasmus.” He’d taken several steps forward without realizing it. He had to stop himself, had to hold himself back from reaching for Erasmus. “I am so sorry, to the depths of my soul, for what you suffered, and for my part in causing it.”Erasmus’s brows drew together, and his eyes glistened, though they did not lose their hard glint. “Why?” he asked. He crossed the space between them quickly, marching up to Kallias and planting himself in front of him. “Why did you do that to me?” He closed his eyes and breathed hard through his nose. “I thought you cared about me.” His gaze met Kallias’s once more, full of pain. “Why did you take everything away from me like that?”“I did.” Kallias could barely speak around the lump in his throat, and his eyes threatened to spill. “I cared about you so much, Erasmus. More than anything. I’m so sorry.”“Did you think you would make me yours, by kissing me?”“No.” Kallias couldn’t be certain Erasmus even heard him, faint as his answer was.“You destroyed me!” Erasmus stepped closer, and he was too close now, much too close, but Kallias could not bring himself to step back. “I lost everything! They stripped me of my position that very day, they sent me to a different part of the palace, and I had to listen as the other slaves were—”Erasmus stopped speaking, his eyes widening, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his breath. His eyes roved quickly over Kallias’s face, and he brought his fingers to his own mouth, looking stricken.Then he darted around Kallias and ran from the room.Kallias, left alone in Erasmus’s room, closed his eyes and let the tears slide down his cheeks. He stayed silent, as he had learned to do in the palace, ensuring no one could witness his weakness. Then, when he was able to master himself, he left the room and made his way back to his own chamber. That night, Kallias did his best to put aside his worries, but he didn’t quite manage it as he performed for the kings. Prince Torveld and Erasmus were conspicuously absent from the throne room. No space was even made for them—a courtier dressed in the Veretian style sat beside King Damen, to whom the king paid very little attention. When Kallias finished his last song, there was polite applause, but nothing else. The courtiers all continued their conversations.When he went to his room after what he knew was a lackluster performance, Kallias barely slept, haunted by the look in Erasmus’s eyes, the knowledge that he had suffered at the hands of cruel masters, and—as he had been haunted by for much longer—the ghost of Erasmus’s lips on his own. More than once, Kallias’s tears soaked his pillow.He did not fault Prince Torveld for having him speak to Erasmus. He knew it was kindly meant. But it had reopened old wounds that had never truly healed, and now Kallias would endure his grief all over again.In the morning, he remained in his room, in no mood to keep up the etiquette required at court. He consoled himself with the thought that he would live here now—not this room precisely, but one like it, somewhere in the palace. He would use his stipend to buy fine clothing and a gleaming new kithara, and maybe when the kings took him away with them they would visit distant kingdoms across the sea.His thoughts tried, again and again, to turn to Erasmus. Each time, he let himself wallow less time than before. One day in the future, he might even manage not to think of him at all.He was roused from his musings by a knock at the door. He smoothed the wrinkles out of his clothing and ran fingers hastily through his hair. This would be a page from King Laurent, come to collect his acceptance of his offer. Kallias should be presentable.But when he pulled open the door, the man standing on the other side was Erasmus.“Kallias,” said Erasmus simply, and it did not hold the fire of fury it had held the day before.“Erasmus.” Kallias stepped back, holding the door open, uncertain. “Would you like to come in?”Erasmus came into the room, casting a quick glance around it before turning back to Kallias. “I did a lot of thinking yesterday,” he said. “And I spoke at length with Torveld.”The lack of the prince’s title struck Kallias hard in the chest. The prince allowed Erasmus to use his given name, an intimacy that would never be afforded to a simple bed slave. It was not only, then, that Erasmus loved the prince. Prince Torveld loved Erasmus in return.“For so long,” Erasmus continued, “I hated you. I tried very hard not to think of you, because the pain when I did was so great, it eclipsed everything else.”“You were right to hate me,” Kallias said quickly. “You should hate me. Do not think of me. Hating me and putting me out of your mind has gotten you a good position.” He swallowed thickly. “And the love of a good man.”A shy little smile played at the edges of Erasmus’s lips, and a piece broke off Kallias’s heart and shattered at his feet. But then Erasmus said, “But I did love you, back then. And I was so deeply hurt by what I thought was your betrayal.” He glanced down, letting out a huff of a breath. “I am glad to know I wasn’t stupid to trust you.”“Not stupid, no.” Kallias took several steps toward him, only just stopping himself from reaching out a comforting hand. “You were never stupid. You trusted me, and I betrayed you.”“No.” Erasmus took a step toward him, narrowing the distance between them. “I thought you did, but I realize now that it was the opposite.” He laid a soft hand against Kallias’s cheek, and Kallias’s traitor heart made him lean into it. Erasmus’s voice was barely above a whisper. “You saved me.”So the truth of it now lay between them, all this time later. Yet the wounds in Kallias’s soul bled afresh—for everything that Erasmus had suffered, even if it had not reached the point of death. For everything that had come between them, even if it had not been the princes they had always expected.And a little bit, for himself—for the boy meant to serve a prince, reduced to an ugly husk sleeping in gutters, clawing his way to some semblance of glory through sheer force of will alone, now having achieved more success than he could have ever dreamed. Yet he was alone in this, as well.Except that Erasmus was still touching him, had drawn even closer to him, his lips parted and his eyes dark. His gaze flicked back and forth between Kallias’s eyes, then dropped to his mouth, and he leaned forward.Kallias jerked back with a start as it became clear what Erasmus meant to do. “No.”He stepped away, feeling the loss of Erasmus’s touch keenly.“No,” he repeated. “You’ve suffered too much and risen too high to throw it all away on a flea like me. I wont let you do that to yourself.”“Kallias,” Erasmus said, and Kallias tried not to love the sound of his name in Erasmus’s mouth. “You know that Torveld loves me. You know that he wants me to be happy.” He stepped close again. “This would make me happy.”Kallias peered at him. “Men do not like it when their lovers kiss other people.”Erasmus shook his head. “You don’t know him.”“I know well enough.” Kallias had no wish to raise the ire of a prince. He didn’t think King Laurent’s gratitude toward him would extend to protecting him from the angry emissary of Patras.Erasmus sighed. “Very well.” He went to the door, then turned briefly. “Please stay here.”He left without waiting for an answer.Kallias paced, uncertain. He had no idea what Erasmus might be planning. He thought, once or twice, of going out to one of the many courtyards in the palace, to try to escape his whirling feelings, but curiosity kept him where he was. Erasmus had so rarely asked anything of him.It was not long before there was a knock at the door again, and this time when Kallias opened it, he threw himself to the floor, for Prince Torveld stood there beside Erasmus.“Rise,” the prince said, stepping into the room.Kallias did so, though his knees wobbled, and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. There was no good reason for the prince to be visiting his room. His mind flashed, unhelpfully, to the palace at Ios, to his door being thrown open and rough hands locking him in irons before dragging him down to the wet, dark dungeon.“Erasmus tells me you have some fear of my jealousy.”Kallias trembled all over. He kept his eyes on the floor and wished faintly that the prince had not bid him to stand. He tried to answer, but he couldn’t seem to find his voice.“I assure you, you need not fear me.” The prince’s fingers touched beneath Kallias’s chin, tugging it up. Kallias was forced to meet Prince Torveld’s eyes. “My only desire is for his happiness, and reconciling with you would make him happy.”“I— He has forgiven me, Exalted,” Kallias stammered.Prince Torveld glanced at Erasmus, then looked back at Kallias. “He wishes to do more than forgive you.” The prince cocked his head. “Do you no longer desire him?”Had Kallias not been so well trained, he would have collapsed at the prince’s feet. But he’d spent years learning to master crippling fear, so he stayed on his feet. Yet his training had not prepared him to navigate this sort of situation. The prince was not asking for his own submission. He knew how to handle that. But to admit to this man his own feelings for the person the prince loved? Honesty and caution warred in his throat, stopping his voice.Prince Torveld looked back and forth between Kallias’s eyes, then he sighed and let go of his chin, shaking his head. “It’s not my affair, what goes on between the two of you, truly. I leave you to work it out between yourselves.”Kallias let out a long breath, glad to be able to drop his gaze to the floor again.Prince Torveld turned and made for the door, but stopped before reaching it. “But you should know,” he said, “you have my blessing. Whatever does or does not occur between you, I’ll not hold it against you. I am a youngest prince. I am well versed in the art of sharing.”And he left, closing the door softly behind himself.“You see?” Erasmus crossed the room and stood before Kallias, smiling. “He does not forbid us reconciling.”“Reconciling,” Kallias echoed stupidly. It seemed an entirely inadequate word.“What I mean is,” Erasmus said, stepping so close that less than a hand’s breadth separated them, “I would very much like to kiss you. May I?”He raised dark eyes to Kallias, his gaze sweet beneath thick lashes. Kallias ought to reply, and he sought his voice, but in the end he couldn’t quite manage it. And part of him suspected he ought to run, ought to flee this situation before he truly did raise the ire of a prince.But another part of him wanted so badly to believe it, to take Prince Torveld and Erasmus at their word. And if Kallias were honest with himself, so long as it didn’t harm Erasmus, he thought he might give up everything, even his own life, for just one night with him.So he nodded mutely, a silent assent. Erasmus’s lips broke into a joyful smile, then he closed the last of the distance between them, tilted his head, and pressed his lips to Kallias’s.It was nothing like their last kiss. That kiss, delivered brutally and designed to be noticed, had felt like a sword to the chest. This one was soft, gentle lips against his own, at first nearly chaste. But then the tip of Erasmus’s tongue touched the place where Kallias’s lips met, and Kallias opened for him without hesitation.Erasmus’s tongue slid into his mouth, and Kallias was completely undone, forever changed. His arms came up to encircle Erasmus’s waist without his willing it, a reflex to hold him even closer, as the taste of him overwhelmed him.Erasmus’s mouth tasted of honey and apples, and Kallias’s eyes threatened to prickle at the thought that he ate so luxuriously. Kallias licked into his mouth again and again, his arms tightening around him, pulling him impossibly closer.Erasmus’s hands slid up Kallias’s neck into his hair, his fingers curling to grip it gently, and Kallias had never known such utter bliss.Then Erasmus moaned into his mouth, and he realized there were depths of bliss he had not yet even begun to plumb.Erasmus pulled away, and Kallias chased his lips before he even knew he was doing it. But Erasmus, eyes dark, stepped out of his arms, hand trailing down to take his wrist and pull him to the bed. Erasmus sat on it, then pushed himself fully onto it, lying back.Kallias swallowed hard. Everything in him wanted this—wanted to touch and taste and take all that Erasmus was willing to give him—yet the collar at Erasmus’s throat and cuffs on his wrists glinted in the afternoon sun, and the years of Kallias’s training pulled hard at him. Erasmus belonged to someone else, forever beyond Kallias’s reach.As if reading his thoughts, Erasmus sat up and reached for his hand, pulling him down on top of him.“It’s alright,” he said softly. “It’s alright.”Against all his ingrained training, Kallias let himself be pulled, lowering his body onto Erasmus’s as he pressed their lips together once more. Their kisses were deep, heated and needy, as though they could make up for their lost years by devouring each other as much as possible now.Erasmus’s hands began to slide over Kallias’s body—at first simply roaming over his back, but soon with more purpose, beginning to work at the fastenings of his clothing. Kallias had taken to wearing the Veretian style, here in the frigid North, so there were a great deal more fastenings than the simple clasp he had worn on his chiton when he and Erasmus knew each other long ago.Erasmus’s Patran doublet sported buttons in place of Kallias’s Veretian ties, but was no less fiddly for them.Indeed, soon enough they had to break apart to give proper attention to unfastening each other’s clothing.“This was all so much easier in Akielos,” Kallias grumbled, slipping yet another pearl button through its loop.“Well.” Erasmus huffed a laugh. “Except for the part where we were forbidden to ever touch each other.”Kallias raised his eyes to Erasmus’s. “Except for that.” He let out a breath. “I would have left it all behind for you, if you’d asked me to. If you’d wanted to run away together, I would have—”“None of that, now.” Erasmus laid a finger against Kallias’s lips, silencing him. “Do not dwell in what might have happened. There is only what was, what is, and what might yet be.”Kallias nodded, letting his tongue flick against the pad of Erasmus’s finger against his lips. “Then let us have what is, and forget the rest.”Erasmus pulled Kallias back to him, pushing his tongue between his lips once more, and at the same time pushing his jacket off his shoulders. Kallias worked his own hands into Erasmus’s doublet and pushed it away. The shirts beneath were easier, tugged up over heads.But before he could go further, Erasmus’s brows drew together and he caught Kallias’s wrists.“You must understand,” he said, his eyes downcast, “when I was sent from Akielos, there was a time when…” He trailed off, swallowing hard.“Erasmus?” Kallias tried to meet his eyes, but Erasmus’s gaze remained resolutely downcast.“Torveld saved me from him,” he said softly, “with the aid of King Laurent. Prince Laurent, then. It wasn’t Torveld who did it. I need you to know that.”A gathering chill in Kallias’s limbs began to dull the fiery passion that had seized him. “Did what?”Erasmus swallowed again, released Kallias’s wrists, then unbuttoned his breeches. Kallias’s heart leaped into his throat—to see Erasmus bared like this, as he had never seen him, despite all their years of training together—but then Erasmus pushed his breeches down, and Kallias saw his thigh.Erasmus was still as beautiful and perfect as ever, from his smooth, pale skin to his shining burnished hair—save for the large, ugly scar Kallias could now see on his thigh. It was red and raised, bands crisscrossing each other, as though something had been done to him again and again.A lump formed in Kallias’s throat, and hot tears pricked his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He fell to his knees at Erasmus’s feet, now not even touching him—for how could he, when he was the one who had consigned Erasmus to the terrible fate that had befallen him? He closed his eyes, feeling the tears spilling down his cheeks, and bowed his head. “Erasmus, I’m so sorry.”“Kallias.” Gentle fingers threaded through his hair, Erasmus’s hand resting softly on his head. “Kallias, my love, don’t. Please.”At the word love on Erasmus’s lips, Kallias raised his head. Erasmus was gazing softly at him.“You did not do this to me. You saved me from much, much worse.”“But because of me—”“Because of you, I lived.” Erasmus slid his hand to the back of Kallias’s neck, urging him forward. “Because of you, I am here now.” He cradled Kallias’s face in his hands. “I’m here now. Be with me.”Kallias searched his face for anger or sorrow, but found only Erasmus’s gentle sweetness looking back at him, the same as he’d had all those years ago in the gardens of Nereus, despite the horrors he had endured since. Kallias wasn’t worthy of that sweetness—had not been worthy then, and was more wretched now, after all that had happened—but he had become greedy since his release from servitude, so he grasped at what Erasmus offered—a forgiveness he could never earn, a tenderness he could never be worthy of.He raised up on his knees, meeting Erasmus’s lips with his own, and now he couldn’t help but be aware of Erasmus’s nakedness, his body hot and close beside Kallias’s own. It was almost too much, to be this close to him, to have in his arms what he had wanted for as long as he could remember. He kept his mouth on Erasmus’s but took away his hands to undo the laces of his own trousers.As he pushed them off, Erasmus pulled away to look down at him, his lips crimson and glistening wetly. His breath came fast and short, his chest heaving with it.“You’re perfect,” he breathed.It wasn’t true, not in the slightest. Kallias’s skin was marked all over with small scars—a scrape from being thrown out of a tavern when his money ran out, a blister from sleeping in the cold damp of the dungeon, a cut from a bandit’s blade on the road, and more and more and more, all over his body.He started to shake his head, to deny Erasmus’s words, but Erasmus touched a finger to his lips. “You are. Not the smooth perfection of a boy. The experienced perfection of a man.”Kallias’s heart thudded hard in his chest. They were, neither of them, the green, innocent things they had been, that day on the cliff when they had held each other and wished for more. And all that knowledge of the world made it that much sweeter that they were together now, that they could see each other’s scars and know them for the survival they represented.As Kallias pressed his lips to Erasmus’s once more, Erasmus lay back, pulling Kallias down onto him. They stretched out together, bodies touching from shoulder to ankle, Kallias’s knee between Erasmus’s thighs.But they had both been trained to be submissive, pliant, and receptive. Kallias didn’t quite know how to go on, how to take instead of give.And, in truth, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to play the role Prince Torveld played with Erasmus. He was certain he would not come off favorably in comparison to so large and confident a man. But neither did he want to force Erasmus into that role—in fact, the thought of taking the same position with Erasmus he had once taken with Kastor was chilling.Erasmus, similarly, lay uncertain and hesitating beneath him. Kallias laid a hand against his cheek.“I won’t take you, as your prince does,” he said softly. “Nor will I make you take me.”Erasmus’s brows drew together. “What, then?”Kallias looked down at their bodies together—at the hard length of Erasmus’s cock, a bead of moisture glistening at the tip. To have even this much of him—to lie beside him, to be allowed to touch him—was more than Kallias had ever dared to hope for.He wrapped a hand around Erasmus’s cock and looked back up at his face. At his touch, Erasmus’s back arched, a gasp pulling from his lips.“Is this alright?” Kallias whispered.Erasmus nodded vigorously. “Yes, oh yes.”Kallias stroked him, gently and slowly, moving along with him a bit as Erasmus gasped again and rolled his hips into the touch. Kallias would carry this sight with him to his grave—Erasmus, naked and beautiful, arching beneath his hand, mouth open and eyes closed.Kallias bent his head, burying his nose in the crook of Erasmus’s neck just above his golden collar, pressing his hips against him as he continued to stroke his cock. “I have wanted this for as long as I can remember,” he murmured. “I don’t think I have ever truly wanted anything else.”“Kallias,” Erasmus gasped, his hand finding Kallias’s cock and closing around it. “I have loved you since the first day I saw you.”Kallias shuddered. “Even when I betrayed you?”“When you saved my life,” Erasmus corrected him, his voice rasping. “Even then.”Kallias lifted his head and pressed his lips to Erasmus’s. Erasmus kissed him back greedily, deeply, tongue plunging between his teeth, his hand still stroking Kallias’s cock.A pressure was gathering between Kallias’s hips, surprisingly quickly. With Kastor, he had not always been overwhelmed by desire, and Kastor had made no attempts to get him there. And since Kastor, there had been a scant few fumbles, always with a wary eye on his belongings in case the seduction was a trap. An atmosphere not terribly conducive to desire.But here with Erasmus, Kallias was safe, loved, and deeply wanted, for what was very likely the first time in his life. Perhaps the only time in his life, since Erasmus would, no doubt, return to Patras with Prince Torveld when the prince had concluded his business.So he let the pressure build, the moisture leaking from his cock smoothing the light friction of Erasmus’s fist, his own callused hands working Erasmus’s cock in turn, both of them moving together like one single, fantastic being.And when the pressure finally crested, it stole Kallias’s breath, his whole body wracked with it, clenching every muscle and sinew, whiting out his vision and making his ears ring. On and on it went, an eternity of drowning in Erasmus’s mouth, merging their bodies and hearts.When Kallias finally returned to his senses, he was lying beside Erasmus, sprawled half across him, his face against Erasmus’s shoulder. Erasmus’s torso was slick with spend, as were both their hands.And Erasmus was looking at him, golden-haired and soft-eyed, smiling.“I am,” he whispered, “as I have always been, very much in love with you.”Kallias’s heart beat double-time at those words on Erasmus’s lips, and his skin broke out all over in goosebumps. He ought to answer, but his mouth refused to form words, so he did the next best thing and pushed himself up to kiss Erasmus deeply. When, finally, they pulled apart, Kallias closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Erasmus’s.“Me too,” he said, the best he could manage. “Me too.” Kallias woke with Erasmus curled beside him, his golden curls resting on Kallias’s chest. Kallias’s heart threatened to burst. His eyes pricked with tears, though he could not quite name the emotion that brought them.Erasmus stirred, murmuring sleepily before finally blinking up at Kallias. A soft smile spread across his lips, and Kallias’s heart did burst, bleeding rich and sweet all through him.“Hi.” He lifted a hand to stroke Erasmus’s hair.Erasmus kissed his chest, then sat up and stretched. Kallias allowed himself to enjoy the lines of Erasmus’s body, to watch the way his muscles moved beneath his skin, even to appreciate the glint of gold at his throat and wrists.“I should get dressed,” Erasmus said finally. “Torveld will wonder after me.”The prince’s name settled heavily into the space in Kallias’s chest. In truth, Prince Torveld had allowed Kallias far more than he ever deserved. And yet Kallias could not help wanting more, wanting to wake with Erasmus in his arms again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next and the next and the next, on and on forever.Instead, he stood as well, pulling on his discarded clothing and doing up the many laces.As he was finishing, a knock sounded briefly before Prince Torveld, without waiting, pushed open the door.“Erasmus!” He beamed. “I hate to barge in on you like this, but we must begin our preparations for departing. Did you have a pleasant time?”Erasmus cast a glance back at Kallias. “It was like a dream.”“I’m glad.” Torveld took hold of Erasmus’s shoulders and gazed at him, then brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. “Look at you,” he said. “You’re so happy.”“My prince has given me all my heart desires.” Erasmus beamed right back at him, and Kallias realized, with a start, that he knew the feeling in that look. It was how Erasmus looked at the person he loved. How Erasmus had looked at him, both this afternoon and years ago on a windswept cliff.Prince Torveld turned to Kallias. Years of training made Kallias cast his gaze immediately to the floor. Indeed, it took conscious control not to let his muscles bend him so that his forehead touched the floor.Prince Torveld stepped close to him. “Erasmus and I will depart for Patras tomorrow,” he said. “There is room in my household for an additional slave. If you wished to join us.”Kallias shuddered. His palms grew suddenly damp. “Exalted?”“The thing is,” Prince Torveld said, a strain in his voice, “there are many restrictions on the sorts of relationships a prince may have with commoners. I may be friendly toward them, but they may not be invited into my confidence.” He paused. “Into my bed. Yet a prince may do whatever he likes with his slaves. Should I wish to take another slave into my chambers, no one except my brother the king could stop me. No one would question if I allowed two of my slaves to share a bedchamber when they did not attend me. I may live as I please with my slaves, and allow them to live as they please. Do you understand?”The tremor hadn’t left Kallias’s muscles. “Yes, Exalted. I understand.” He fumbled with his next words, his tongue tripping over itself. “But— but surely Your Highness’s household would be tarnished by this act. Your Highness would not wish to keep a slave such as me, whose beauty has been utterly destroyed.”“My boy.” Soft fingers touched his jaw, tugging his chin up until Kallias couldn’t help but meet Prince Torveld’s gaze. “I assure you, it has not.”A new heat kindled in Kallias’s belly, something fierce and almost dangerous, as he held the prince’s gaze. To be desired by a prince—for this he had trained his whole life, only to be cast aside when his own prince fell to another man’s blade. Yet here stood a prince, his touch soft but fiery, his gaze molten and sweet, offering Kallias all he could ask for.“We leave at dawn tomorrow,” Prince Torveld said. “We will not wait for you, but we would welcome you in our company should you decide to join us.”As Prince Torveld turned and left, Kallias met Erasmus’s gaze. Erasmus was grinning ear to ear, nearly shining with joy. Later that evening as Kallias tuned his kithara, he felt light and buoyant. He could spend the rest of his life by Erasmus’s side, enjoying all the time Erasmus didn’t spent with Prince Torveld. And indeed, the prince himself was a kind and gentle man, with fine features and soft fingers. Kallias might not mind at all if the prince gave him some attention as well. And who cared if people gossiped about Kallias’s inadequacy as a royal bed slave? As Prince Torveld had said, a prince could do whatever he liked with his slaves.Kallias made his way to the great hall, where a buzz of conversation hung over the people gathered there. Erasmus was already there at Prince Torveld’s side, who in turn sat beside King Damianos, as before. King Damianos, as always, was next to King Laurent.At the sight of King Laurent, Kallias abruptly recalled that he possessed a small fortune in the treasury now. He wasn’t certain if it would be much use if he were Prince Torveld’s slave, but perhaps he might draw a thousand sideris with which to buy gifts for Erasmus.Kallias readied his kithara to play, but before he could begin, King Laurent stood. Kallias immediately knelt, setting his kithara by his side, head bowed as he listened to the king’s words.“Ladies, gentlemen, courtiers, and friends,” King Laurent said expansively. “The reunion of Akielos and Vere into a single great kingdom, as it was long ago, has been one of our greatest triumphs, bringing peace that will last for generations. This merging of our two kingdoms into one great empire also brought about many changes in culture, as I’m sure many of you are aware.” He pitched his voice louder, ensuring it carried to every corner of the room. “One of these changes was the abolition of slavery. No human should own another, and no human should be forever bound to an inescapable master. We believe this wholeheartedly. And yet we only recently learned of the plight of those who were formerly enslaved in Akielos. We did not realize, in freeing these people, that we were creating a desperate situation for many of them, that it would rob them of homes, food, and livelihoods. For this error, we humbly apologize.” He bowed his head, paused, then straightened. “To rectify this problem, we will establish assistance centers across all the empire, with more set up in the South where the problem is more widespread. Anyone who was once enslaved may find a bed and a meal there, and those who wish to gain education or employment will be given assistance. No one will be turned away. No one will go hungry. No one will be harmed. Those who were enslaved may stay as long as they like. They will not be driven out, not even if they remain there their whole lives. This is our proclamation, to be sent to all corners of the empire immediately.”Murmurs broke out all over the room as King Laurent resumed his seat.Kallias’s fingers felt numb and clumsy as he picked up his kithara. It had been mere days since he’d spoken to King Laurent of the problems he had faced as a freed slave in Akielos. A few simple words from Kallias’s lips, and the trials that nearly killed him were erased across the empire.A bed and a meal, for as long as they liked. No former slave would ever starve or freeze again. Because Kallias whispered in the ear of a king. How much more could he achieve if he truly tried?The murmurs were rising, and wine and food were being served on silver platters by liveried servants, and the kings had bent their heads together in quiet discussion. It was time for Kallias to play, to earn the keep he’d come here for.He stood, kithara in hand, and faced the thrones.On one side, King Laurent and King Damianos, who had acted immediately on Kallias’s words and changed the lives of thousands. On the other, Prince Torveld and Erasmus, who were leaving in the morning to a life of peace and love that Kallias had never hoped to dream. Stay, and see what other changes he could bring about for those in need. Go, and live forever in luxury with the man he had always loved.He had only to choose.Kallias lifted his kithara, took a breath, and began to sing.