Alexis of Sparta (Book II) - Unedited, first draft*

ε′ - Pente

Five

Though too panicked to even think about sleep, eventually, I must have dozed off because a sudden knock on my door startled me awake. The sun was barely out of its own slumber, the sky cast in greyish hues of pink and purple. I pressed a hand to my forehead, not feeling anymore rested than any other day. Exhaustion was like a persistent shadow, it was always there, even if I couldn't see it. The only consolation was that the nightmares had seemed to have stopped.

"Are you decent?"

I blinked. That soft voice, though muffled, was familiar. The only question I had was, what on earth was he doing at my door?

"I... um... hold on."

I reached for a robe, drawing it close to my frame as I scrambled to the door. The grinning, darling face of Achilles' closest companion greeted me when I threw the door open. He crossed his arms, his brown hair held back out of his face by a gold-leafed circlet, which glinted in the torches that were still lit in the hall.

"What's going on?" I yawned, running a hand through my hair.

The strands were longer, heavier, and I had a moment of crisis. I had been in the ancient world long enough to notice a difference in my hair length.

Patroclus' smile widened. "Well, Achilles is still asleep, so I thought, what better way for you to see your new home than a ride."

I didn't know what struck me first, Phthia being called my home, or a ride. Rather than dwell on the homesickness that overwhelmed me again, I cleared my throat.

"A ride...?"

"Do you not know how to ride a horse?" Patroclus leaned in conspiratorially. "Achilles will never need to know. Hurry and get dressed. I'll wait out here." And he shut the door on my stunned face.

My body moved on its own accord, though my mind was reeling. Patroclus wanted to take me horseback riding? What was he playing at?

I hadn't been on a horse since I was a kid and had a rather awful experience and yet, I found myself fumbling to get dressed, excitement making my movement sloppy. There was one particular bonus to this sudden adventure. Horseback riding aside, Patroclus was giving me something I've craved since I got here—a chance to see more of Phthia, and find a way to escape.

I abandoned the veil and kept my hair loose as I cinched the shoulders of my dress together with the brass pins. It had taken me a lot longer than I cared to admit to dress myself for the first few days. Zoisme had made it look effortless and it was. In a way. There were no seams to show sleeves or a collar. The dress was a square piece of fabric that bunched around my waist with a simple belt. A dress wasn't the best thing for riding but it would do.

Sadness swelled as I stared at my distorted reflection. Zoisme's death was on my hands. I promised her freedom and took it from her. She was gone and I still thought of her as a slave not a friend.

I draped the blue shawl over my shoulders and it fell heavily, as if shrouding my emotions, and stepped out into the hall.

There was no guard, a refreshing sight. Just Patroclus, leaning against the opposing wall, studying his calloused hands carefully. He glanced at me and did a double-take, his gray eyes widening. Heat rushed to my cheeks and I looked down, searching for any flaws in my dressing skills.

"I'm still getting the hang of this," I muttered, gesturing to my attire. "It's been a while since I've had to dress myself..."

Gods, that was something a pampered royal would say. I used to roll my eyes at the notion of servants dressing others. Look at me now.