The room had two small baths, red ceramic surrounded by pale blue tile set in even redder plaster. Both had been filled, but two large cauldrons heated over a small hearth, waiting to refresh the cooled water later. This was the king’s private bathing room, and unless I was mistaken, the door on the other side of the room led to the queen’s room. I studied the paintings on the walls to steady my thoughts. Cresting waves and leaping blue dolphins danced across the room, while hippocamps swam beneath. Castor and Pollux had painted the fish-tailed horses on their walls, too. The images blurred, and I looked away.
“Theseus said you had a difficult voyage, though he did not explain how,” Aethra said. “Nor did he tell me your name, but I can guess. Trust my son to fall in love with such a woman. Tell me at least that he did not steal you?”
I shook my head, then laughed from my nerves. “I suppose he did, for my father thinks I am abducted in my sleep, but I left with Theseus of my own free will.”
She raised an eyebrow, helping to remove my cloak. Her gaze fell on my hair, and her lips thinned.
“Helen of Sparta.” She sighed. “Well, what’s done is done, and if it brings war to Athens, I suppose it will give the younger men something to do with themselves.”
“I hope war will not come. At least not for some time. And it will be longer still if you will help me dye my hair.”
“Dye it?” Aethra pursed her lips and pulled my shift over my head.
I sighed to be free of the rough wool, along with the days of sweat and dirt trapped in the fabric. In the basket, Ariston had at least given me a clay pot to relieve myself, so I had not sat in my own filth, but the one bath I had managed in Troy had not been enough. I felt as though the dust from the road had ground itself into my skin, sticking to the salt from the sea.
Aethra clucked her tongue at the state of my body. “I might have something, but it will wait until morning. I’m sure you’re exhausted, and Theseus would not forgive me if I kept you up later than needed.”
I stepped into the tub and sank into the steaming water, submerging completely. Closing my eyes in the tub made me feel as though I were trapped inside the hold again. I sat up, gasping for breath. The sloshing of water in my ears was too much, sounding like the sea against the hull, and I grasped the edge of the bath with both hands to keep myself from leaping from it.
Aethra frowned. “Are you quite well, my dear?”
“Yes,” I managed to say, staring at the fire until all I could see were bright smears of white flame when I blinked. White was better than black. My breathing slowed, and I relaxed my grip on the tub enough to lean forward and let Aethra scrub my back and scrape the dirt from my skin.
Yes, I was tired, but I did not think sleep would come at all peacefully.
When the sun rose, painting the horizon with golds and oranges and reflecting rainbows off the whitewashed stone and red-roofed buildings of the city below, I was awake still, but I would have been sorrier to have missed my first sight of Theseus’s lands. I could only imagine what the palace might look like to those beneath the Rock.
Attica was even more beautiful in daylight, and I stood, straining for every glimpse of it I could take from the shadows of the queen’s room, where Aethra had left me to sleep. Low shrubs and mountain pine covered the hills, so green that the orange of the morning sun turned them black. Where the light struck rock, it painted the limestone faces in sunsets.
All around the city, oaks, cypress, and olive trees reached dark limbs into the sky, some of the oak trunks stripped bare and red for the cork that would be used to seal jugs and amphorae. Lowing rose up as the cows woke, though I could not tell if it came from the palace or the city, and I thought I could see a trip of goats already climbing the hill beyond the city wall. More than anything, I wanted to step out upon the balcony and drink in the lands that were to be my new home.
The door from the baths swung open, and I shrank back behind the heavy curtains of the balcony until I realized it was only Aethra. She glanced from the bedding at my feet to the richly carved bed, one perfectly painted eyebrow rising, but she did not ask if I had slept. I had tried, but the furs and blankets and cushions of the bed had been so thickly layered, I had felt myself suffocating, trapped in their cocoon. It was far, far too richly appointed for me to find any comfort, even if I had not feared my nightmares.
I bowed my head. “My lady.”
“My dear, it is no wonder my son has been swept away. Poseidon himself must find you tempting, even if you are his niece.” She came forward to take my hands, pulling me into the light and looking me over with sharp eyes. “You are certainly as lovely as they claim. And then some.”
I flushed. “Thank you, my lady, but I hope it is not just my appearance that has captured your son’s heart.”
She smiled and kissed my cheek. “If it were only that, he would not wish to make you his queen.” Aethra let me go and turned her attention to my clothing. “Theseus asked if you’d like to share the morning meal with him in his rooms, but we must dress you first, in something more appropriate to your station than that frock you arrived in.”
“But if I am to be a slave—”
“Nonsense,” Aethra said. “If you are to be seen by the palace at large, we will find you something suitably humble, but I see no harm in dressing you properly while you eat with my son. It is the least he can offer you while you live in this gilded cage, and I assure you, if I sent you to him in slaves’ clothing, he would never let me hear the end of it. Besides which, once his table is set, the servants know well enough not to disturb him until they’re called again.”
Before I could object, she had crossed the room to a large chest and thrown it open to frown at the contents. “We’ll have to have new clothes made up, of course, but perhaps this will do for today.”
She held up a skirt of finely woven linen, tiered in shades of green, from the palest hint of sea foam to a deep emerald at the hem. I had never seen anything like it, for green was impossibly rare. In truth, I had not realized such shades were possible.
“It will go well with your eyes, I think.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said. “Too fine to wear just to eat a morning meal alone, by far.”
“If you had arrived under any other circumstances, and the king invited you to share his meal, would you dress in rags?” She held the skirt up to my waist, then tossed it over her arm while she stripped me of my sleeping shift with brusque efficiency. “I doubt very much your mother would have allowed you to leave your room in anything less fine.”
I could not argue with that, and Aethra took advantage of my silence to pull a soft ivory shift over my head and wrap the skirt around my waist before I could think of anything further to say. The fabric was so soft against my skin that I wondered how it could be linen at all. I opened my mouth, but Aethra gave me another of her sharp looks, belting a leather girdle at my waist.
“Not another word, my dear. It fits as if it were made for you, and we mustn’t keep the king waiting. He can be very ill-tempered when he’s hungry, and after the long journey you had, he’s sure to be half-starved.”
The idea of Theseus in an ill temper of any kind made my stomach twist, and I had no desire to be the cause of it.
I half dozed while Aethra combed out my hair and worked ivory pins into a crown of braids. Leda had never given me so much attention, leaving me in the hands of maids and nurses. Aethra’s touch was softer than even Clymene’s, and she hummed to herself as she worked.
When she finished, Aethra stepped back to look at me.
“The diamond is a very nice complement,” she said, and I raised my hand to my throat, having forgotten it was there. The stone was warm to the touch. “I think Theseus will be well pleased, considering his last sight of you was covered in kohl and filth from your travels. You’ve no real need for face paint at all with lips as red as yours, and a complex
ion so fair, unless you favor the fashion?”
I wrinkled my nose, thinking of the few times Nestra and I had been made up so formally. Having my face caked with white powder had been miserable. Leda had slapped our hands anytime we raised them above our chests, to keep us from smearing it. And the red sunbursts painted on my cheeks and forehead had itched. I did not know how anyone could stand it.
Aethra smiled. “No, I see that you don’t. That’s as well, I think. The less you remind Athens of Phaedra the better, and all that paint would only hide your beauty.”
“Thank you, my lady,” I murmured.
She opened the door to the baths, and I followed her through the empty room to the adjoining chambers without protest. I kept my eyes on my feet, determined not to trip on the full skirt, clumsy as I was after my sleepless night. The deep cut of the bodice made me self-conscious, though it did not expose me. I had seen Leda dressed in the Cretan style for rituals, her breasts bare and painted, but she had dressed me as conservatively as she was able from the moment my hips had begun to spread. I had never worn any gown even as revealing as this.
A complex knock by Aethra opened the door to us, and Theseus stood on the other side. I must have been pink from my chest to my forehead when I raised my eyes to meet his gaze.
“Helen,” he said, his expression warmer than the sun.
He offered his hand, and when I took it, I felt all the tension of the night leave me at once.
“Thank you, Mother,” he said to Aethra without so much as glancing away from me. “Tell Demophon to begin the day’s affairs without me. I don’t wish to be disturbed until the afternoon, and if he requires help with any of the more-stubborn issues, have him call on Menestheus.”
“I am certain he will have no need,” she said, and left without another word.
When we were alone, I nearly tripped into his arms, my exhaustion falling over me like a cloak with the relief of his presence.
He tipped my face up, searching my eyes, even as he pulled me against him. “You have not slept.”
I flushed again, that he knew it so easily, and hid my face against his chest. “I was afraid if I did, I would dream. What if I cried out in my sleep?”
“No, I suppose it would not do if you were heard. Rumor spreads gossip through the palace faster than Iris can whisper the will of the gods. Tell me what I can do to ease your dreams. Shall I send for Ariston? There may be a draft he can mix . . .”
I shook my head. A potion would guarantee nothing. “I am well enough for a few days more.”
“Even a daughter of Zeus must sleep.” He pulled me with him into the room, past the low table set with fruits, bread, wine, and cold meats. “If you fear sleep in your room, you may have it in mine. I’ll admit it was not how I intended to spend our first morning together in Athens, but I will not have you suffer more than you must.”
I could not help but glance wistfully at the bed. “Won’t the servants wonder if they hear weeping?”
“I’ll wake you if you begin to cry, but they dare not question any sounds that come from this room too closely.” He guided me to the bed, larger even than the one in the queen’s room, but much more modestly appointed. The carved oak had been freshly oiled and polished, making the owls resting atop the posts gleam. No doubt Aethra had seen it done while he was away.
“It seems a shame to waste the gown,” I said.
Theseus chuckled and swept me off my feet to lay me down. He removed my sandals and pulled a light blanket up over my body. The bed was soft, but not so plush that I drowned, and it lacked the excess of cushions and blankets that spilled over everything in the queen’s room. My eyes closed the moment my head touched the bedding.
“It wasn’t a waste.” He kissed my forehead.
I wanted to argue, but it seemed too much effort, and the words failed before my lips would move. Just a few hours of sleep, in safety.
The sounds of Theseus in the room, pouring wine and breaking bread, sent me to sleep more effectively than any lullaby.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dragging himself away from Helen after he had seen her rested was more difficult than Theseus would have believed possible. He’d left her a pomegranate, broken into pieces, but he could not spare the time for more. Aethra would see her fed, he reassured himself. And what good was he to Helen, if he did not act as king? Demophon waited, and so did the rest of the nobles.
“Father!” Demophon rose from the throne and came forward to greet him.
When had his son grown so tall? He easily matched Pollux in height now, and Helen’s brother was several years older.
The nobles parted between them, and all conversation in the megaron ceased as they met before the central hearth.
“Demophon.” Theseus clasped his arm at the elbow, greeting him formally as an equal. “I see you kept things in order.”
His gaze flicked over the others, now bunching together and beginning to speak among themselves. His cousin Menestheus stood by the dais, and Theseus nodded thanks to him. It was not that he doubted his son’s capabilities, but he was young yet, and it had eased Theseus’s mind to know he was watched over. Certainly Menestheus knew the politics of Athens and her people, even if he would never make a strong leader himself. He was too worthless with a spear for anyone to follow him, but he served loyally, as his family had served Aegeus before Theseus had become king.
“Any trouble?” Theseus asked.
Demophon shook his head, Phaedra’s dark hair falling into his eyes. Theseus bit back the suggestion that he have it cut, smiling instead.
“Things have been quiet, of course, though when you did not arrive three days ago, the nobles began to fuss,” Demophon said. “Aethra said Athena protected you and settled them. No one has any quarrel with Athens, and those who squabble within the city only do so out of boredom. We could use a war.”
“Be careful what you wish for, Demophon. War will not do us any favors if we cannot win or the casualties are too high. Better the people be bored than starve under siege.”
“And who could challenge Athens, truly?” Demophon smiled, and it transformed him. The boy he had left behind had become a man, ready to test himself for honor and glory. “We have Athena’s protection, after all.”
“Not all the gods are as reasonable as our lady.” He clapped his son on the shoulder, trying not to think of Zeus. “Remember that when you are king.”
“Of course, Father.” Demophon bowed. “May the gods grant you many more years before then.”
Theseus chuckled. “A taste of the kingship in my absence and you find it is not so sweet as you imagined?”
Demophon grimaced. “You make it look so easy.”
“Decades of practice, I assure you. When it’s your time, you’ll be ready. And you’ll have your brother to support you.” Theseus let his gaze drift over the room again, but Acamas was nowhere to be seen. “Speaking of your brother . . . ?”
“Aethra let him sleep and moved his lessons to this afternoon. I can have him called if you wish it.”
“No. Let him study. But we’ll have a private supper this evening, and I expect you both to be washed and dressed to Aethra’s standards.”
Demophon raised his eyebrows, opening his mouth to speak, then shutting it again as he glanced at the nobles surrounding them. “As you wish, of course.”
“I do.” He had not been certain he should admit the truth to Demophon and Acamas, but it would have been cruel to deny Helen the small amount of freedom it would give her. At least with his sons and his mother, she could be herself.
“The nobles will be expecting a banquet to celebrate your return,” Demophon said, “and the festival of Athena is coming quickly.”
“The banquet will wait until tomorrow. Tonight I will spend with my family. As for the festival, that will be your responsibility this year. I trust it is not t
oo much for you?”
Demophon paled. “But—”
Theseus grinned. “You can have Menestheus to help, of course.”
“You want me to organize the entire festival?”
“If you’re to be king one day, you’ll have to shoulder the burden eventually. And time slips away from us, even now.” He squeezed his shoulder. Please, Zeus, let your price not be my son. “As long as I live, you will have my help and my wisdom, but I will not be king of Athens forever, and the sooner the people trust you to lead them, the better for all of us. Aethra will help you with the women’s rites, but do not forget that a king is both warrior and priest, just as the queen is priestess and mother.”
Demophon’s eyes shadowed at the mention of a queen. “And will we have a new queen in Athens?”
Theseus sighed. He wished making Helen queen could be as simple as placing a circlet on her head. “If the gods will it.”
Demophon’s expression filled with questions, but he only pressed his lips together, as if he would not risk their slipping free.
Theseus gave his son’s shoulder another squeeze and released him. “Whatever comes, it will not be in time for the festival. Better that you begin to know Athena now than wait until I have been lost.”
Demophon nodded, and Theseus hoped all of this was for nothing. What choice did he have but to prepare his son for the day as if it might be tomorrow? He did not know the price, and if he were given a choice between his own life and his sons’, they must be ready to take their place on the throne. Not only for the people of Athens, but for Helen and all of Achaea. Whatever the price, Theseus would not let it be for nothing. To prevent the war, Helen must be protected, and if he were not living to do so, it would fall to Demophon.
“Rumor came to us that you went to Sparta to secure Helen, my lord,” Menestheus said, speaking loudly enough for the assembly to hear his question. “And that Aphrodite herself wishes you to marry.”
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