He sat on the wide steps on the palati’s west side. Before him was the biggest of the palati’s courtyards and this one was mostly used to stage chariots. For most of his life, the chariots were not used for war but for the races. However, this was where he had been placing all the chariots the palati boasted. They were horseless and their front ends rested on the ground, giving them an odd appearance.

But he knew what they would look like when ready tomorrow. This whole place would be filled with noise and people, stamping horses and the scrape of armor. For now, it was a peaceful boneyard. Its body had not yet taken shape.

Confident as he was about his decision, he wondered if maybe, just maybe, the gods favored Irakles. It would explain why his life had turned upside down, why everything now turned to ash in his hands while his uncle preened about the palati like a fanning peacock. Did the gods want Irakles as king? For his uncle’s line, his cousin’s line to rule?

It could not be so. It would not be. So what if the gods wanted Irakles. He’d climb Olympus and tear Zeus off his own fucking mountain if he had to, if that’s what it took to see Irakles fall. And right now, that’s what this whole endeavor was amounting to be.

His hands were clasped together with his thumbs resting against his lips with his elbows propped up on his knees. He moved so that his chin now rested on top and kept looking across the first step of his plan. It was good. It would work if the Fates were with him. And it was a beast to keep the secret away from his uncle. That, had been the real issue. There were so many people he couldn’t trust.

Glancing at the stars glinting in the dark ribbon of sky, he thought of his wife. Her hair was nearly as black. The warm breeze carried with it the scent of the ocean. It reminded him of a time that they’d walked down to the beach together and sat, talking. That was one of the first times they’d actually spoken for any real amount of time, rather than falling immediately into bed together. Before she was pregnant and before the rest of what happened later blew everyone’s lives sky high.

He thought of her face as she’d laughed about something while she pulled her delicate fingers through the wet sand, leaving swirling trails in her wake. At the time he hadn’t thought anything about her except that she was fun. She was mostly a mystery he’d planned to leave unsolved...but now, in the memory he knew that she’d been talking about something important to her. And he couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was.

And suddenly he wanted to see her. No, it was more than that. He needed to see her. There were things she had to know. Things that must be done if the Fates deemed it time for him to join his father and brother.

Rising, he walked through the double doors and down the long, dark corridor. He did not go to his own rooms to prepare to see her. Instead he came as he was, in what he’d been wearing all day. All he lacked were sandals. All of them seemed to have been going barefoot lately, with the weather as hot as it was.

As he knocked at her door, he did not know if she would want to see him or not. She’d been reserved with him lately. Her smiles were thin and there was a look behind her eyes, a sort of desperate fear that he tried his best to ignore. In it, he could see what she feared most: his failure. Their mutual destruction. It was partially why he’d been avoiding her but, among the rest of the battle plans he’d made, he’d thought of her too. And what to do if he should fall tomorrow.

One of her maids opened the door and dropped immediately into a bow. He did not speak as the girl turned to inform Olympia. The girl stepped a little out of the way and he slid past her into the room. The formal way she greeted him stopped him in his tracks and he frowned.

“Leave,” he said to the maid without looking at her. His eyes stayed on his wife. His features softened once the door clicked shut.

“Pia,” the way he said her name, drawn out and a little scolding was not harsh. But he was tired of their fight. It needed to end. Especially tonight. “Come. Sit with me.”

He held out his hand, taking her own and led her to her bed. Her bed where he had not been since blood had stained her sheets. Pulling her gently down beside him, he sat with her and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’re majesty?” he imitated her, half smiling as he did so. “Why so formal, wife?” Two could play this game.

”I don’t want to upset you further. You’ve been cross with me.”

There was no defense against that statement. He had been cross. Mean, even. Though he regretted she was hurt by it all. During the fight, and aftewards, he’d been focusing solely on how he felt. Rather than go make up to her and apologize for his part in it, he’d acted rashly in nearly everything since. From the horses, to Aikaterine, to his dealings with Irakles. Everything seemed in a freefall.

When she interlaced their fingers, his whole body relaxed. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized he’d been tense. Everything between them was wrapped up in a tangled mess of uncertainty, frustration, regret, and anger. There lay mistrust, and doubt. There were things he would not allow himself to consider. It was far easier to ignore it; their problems. And, by extension, her.

”I wasn’t sure you would want to see me before you left. You haven’t visited or asked for me since...before we last spoke.”

That wasn’t strictly true. They had laid eyes on each other nearly every day. But poking his head in for less than five minutes in the morning to check on her did not constitute a visit. He looked into her eyes when she finally met his gaze. The hurt there was naked and plain. Her attempts to disguise it only made it glaring.

“I needed to see you,” he said after a long pause, looking at her mouth now, rather than her eyes. It was easier to focus on the alluring curve of her lips. When she gently took his hand and kissed his knuckles, he was hit with a sudden sense of foreboding. Like this was the last time she would ever do something so simple.

“Come here,” he murmured in almost a whisper. She was not the slender woman she’d been seven months ago. But she wasn’t any harder to pull to him either. Her shoulders were still slim but her breasts were fuller and her stomach round with promise. He moved the two of them so that he was sitting with his back against the bed’s headboard and her leaning back against his chest. Here, he could wrap his arms completely around her and bury his face in her unbound hair.

“I was sitting on the steps by the west gate, where we’ve staged the chariots for tomorrow,” he began after a moment. “It’s completely quiet out there. No one around. And I started thinking about the first time you and I slipped off alone to the beach. That first time we actually talked.” He thought of her face then. Its liveliness and animation. Her fingers trailing swirling paths in the wet sand. There’d been no fear. Just exchanged glances that had made him sorry they’d ever left the bed to come down there in the first place.

“I was thinking of when you were telling me something and you laughed. I can’t even remember what you said but...it made me miss you.”

It was easier to talk with her inside his arms like this. Without her staring at him and either demanding an answer or pleading for one. He found himself wanting to give into her wishes when she’d told him she’d made sacrifices for their victory. If she asked for the kingdom, he wanted to give it to her. But she asked too much when she asked for him to wait for vengeance. That was something he could not bring himself to delay. Not even for her.

“I wouldn’t do this if I did not have to,” he murmured, kissing the back of her neck. “But I have all of Vasiliadon calling for help and the blood of my father cries out for justice. I won’t fail you, Olympia.” A lot of her fear, he knew, came from what she would do if he did fail. After all, they hadn’t married because they loved each other. She was not pregnant as a result of undying devotion. And, despite her claims in the temple in the woods, he did not believe that she loved him deeply. People claimed a lot of things during sex. What he did believe was that she cared for him the way he cared for her. That she didn’t want him to die. Until after tomorrow, he would not consider anyone’s feelings to be deeper than that.

As she shifted around to look at him, he pulled back a little so that he could still see her. They were still close enough that her hair brushed against his cheek. Until she told him that she knew he wouldn’t fail, he hadn’t realized he’d needed to hear it from her. His advisors cautioned him but offered words of encouragement. But it had meant nothing when he’d taken her at her word that she truly believed he’d die. If his own queen did not believe, then why would anyone else?

But she did. Now he was left to prove her right. She moved suddenly to take his hand. Offering no resistance, he let her guide him to the spot where the baby was pushing out. Just as his hand settled, the child drew back inward but he kept his hand there, waiting. After a second, a little tap pressed his palm and then another as the baby seemed to be testing. He laughed and kissed Pia on her temple.

“I will always come back to you,” he said, still grinning at her but it soon smoothed into a softer smile as he looked her over. “You’ve been sitting in the sun. You look like you’re still glowing...though I suppose that could be the light.” Around them, shadows flickered over the walls as fire danced in the tall bronze braziers in her room. The softer light gave her already lovely skin a golden quality. His gaze fell to her lips again and this time he didn’t hesitate. Pulling her back, he shifted a little so that he could kiss her, though his intentions were no more than that. Whatever the midwives said, he did not want to risk the baby.

Still. That didn’t mean he could not kiss her or let his hand glide across the soft skin over the tops of her breasts. He broke the kiss when he felt himself wanting more than he was willing to take. Being with her like this wasn’t the only reason he’d come to her. There were other matters that would upset her but she needed to hear them.

“Pia. Have your hag with you at all times tomorrow. And your lady,” he said, referring to Aikaterine. “If I do not return, take only the two of them and leave. Grab nothing. Do not go to your father’s house. Sail to Dimitrou if you can. From there, go to Colchis.” His tone was serious and it was coming out more blunt than he intended but he wanted to make sure she understood.

“That horny toad will ensure your safety and your lady has borne children before. They will know what to do...how to help you. This is...pointless to tell you,” he assured her, though if he was honest, no one knew their future. By some freak arrow he could be killed tomorrow. If Ares was on his side, and if Athena had given him wisdom, and if Hera cared about their family at all, then he would return victorious. But if he did not, his afterlife, already sure to be miserable, would be still worse if he did not ensure that his wife was safe. That the child, the heir, was safe.

“Colchis is our ally. Nothing can kill Vangelis,” he smiled briefly but it was gone the next instant. “He will know what to do for you. And as much as I hate your spiteful little nanny goat, she knows her trade.”

Olympia was a clever woman. He did not need to tell her exactly how to go about doing these things, but he did want to make sure, at least for himself, that she knew to do them. “The rest of my family will be safe enough for the time being. Do not worry for my sisters or my mother. They are not a threat to Irakles’s power.” Though, if the old man was smart, he’d use them for political leverage.

While on the one hand he liked the way her profile looked with the stubborn tilt of her head, it made him feel better when she finally allowed that she would keep Desma and Selene with her. They both knew very well he hadn’t mentioned Selene. However, he wasn’t going to fight her on it. Whatever Aikaterine was to him, she was also his wife’s lady. And his wife had the right to either dismiss or keep Aikaterine as she saw fit.

For the moment, he was satisfied that she would be safe, whatever the outcome of tomorrow brought. He let her slip out of his arms as she struggled to the side of the bed and he slid down a little so that he was only half propped up now. He was exhausted. And he would need to be up before sunrise tomorrow.

By the time she was back, he was laying with his arm slung over his eyes to block out the light in her room. Hers was a comfortable room; one that was filled with only memories of them in it. His own...held too many other memories. He didn’t sleep well anymore in it. Sometimes he could hear his brother berating him for sleeping until noon, or waking up sometime near evening just to stay up all night again. At the time, he’d wished Zacharias would get a grip. Live a little.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept past sunrise, despite still staying up until all hours.

Pia came back to the bed and he peeked out to look at her, only to sit up completely once he spied the vial in her fingers. He felt a cold shiver wash over him at the thought of her drinking it. Ending not only her life, but the one inside her. And as much as he wanted to take the thing from her and fling it out into the darkness, there were worse fates than poison for the queen of a fallen king.

He closed his hand over hers, encasing the vial between them and searching her eyes as she begged him to come back safely. “I was just taking precautions,” his voice was low and even, as though he was coaxing her not to take it. “Don’t concern yourself about it this much.” The last thing he wanted for her was more stress. A repeat occurrence of what had happened before.

“I can go to my rooms if you do not wish for me to stay...but I’d like to stay with you until dawn,” he wasn’t asking permission, exactly so much as trying to gage her feelings. They hadn’t been together in a long while.

”Stay, please? I always sleep better when I have you here.”

“Your wish is my command,” he teased. She’d said this to him before and he suspected that it might be truer now than ever before with the battle looming tomorrow. For himself, the same held true. Sleeping alone usually resulted in a restless night, though the nightmares had abated somewhat.

At her touch, he followed what she wanted and lay down next to her, with one arm underneath her, holding her to him. The dim light would put itself out soon enough and once darkness settled over them, he would sleep. Pia settled into him and for a moment or two, they were completely still. His mind did not wander to tomorrow. He was perfectly content to be in the present and think of nothing else.

She pressed her lips against his neck and his arm tightened around her shoulders as her hands went exploring. On habit, he turned to face her, kissing her and entwining his fingers in her luxuriant, dark hair. His own hands traveled the length of her body, over curves he knew by touch and taste. But all at once he pulled back.

“Pia,” he said. “Stop. Don’t...you can’t.” It was half pleading, half groaning. Despite his own protests, he kissed her again, slowly; tasting her because, so far as he was concerned, this was all they would be able to do. The fatigue he’d been under was fading. In its place was the desire that she was always able to stir up in him. It was unwelcome since she was restricted.

He took her by the wrist and moved her hand to his chest. “You’re still in confinement,” he reminded her. “With a few months to go.” Releasing her hand, he cupped her face and kissed her again. “We can sleep. It’s fine.” This was the first time he could ever remember having to exercise self denial with her. It just hadn’t ever been an issue and though he wished it wasn’t now, he didn’t want to risk any harm coming to her or to their son.

“I wasn’t going to tell you this” he said suddenly. “But I had a nightmare two nights ago. About your hag. In the dream, I was kissing you, and you were naked and beautiful. And we were lying here just as we are now.” This was scarily familiar as he started to tell her about it. How he’d begun to make love to her and how it had been amazing. “Except when it was over, I looked down to see that it wasn’t you but Desma. And she was cackling up at me and she had no teeth…”

It was horrifying. He physically shuddered.

“I’m not sure...which is the worst torture; sex with Desma, or watching Irakles take the throne.” Privately he’d rather crown his uncle himself than have to bear going near Desma in that way. He wasn’t even sure he would be physically able to do it. The thought was nauseating.

His frustration slipped out in a sigh as she pulled away from him, pouting. The incredulous expression of her features was enough to start to convince him that this had been...not a mistake, exactly. But that he shouldn’t have expected perfect harmony from her. She was clever and knew her own mind too well to be swayed easily by what he said. Not unless she was in a mood to be obedient.

”I’m alright, we can be careful. I don’t want to sleep...I want you.”

He wanted her too. But not enough to give into her. Thus his tale about Desma, which should have been enough to scare anyone out of their senses. His wife, however, would not be swayed. She smiled and laughed. Her dark eyes were bright with amusement that quickly turned to something else.

Her hands slid over him as he spoke. And he didn’t stop her. She was being good about where her hands wandered; keeping them just here or there, so as not to stop him mid-story. And then she pulled away completely. His gaze was elsewhere by then, becoming lost in his own thoughts. He did not immediately notice as she unfastened one fibulae but once she was half way done with the other, it was too late to stop he

She leaned against him, pressing her lips to his neck. He turned so that he was buried in her hair once again as his hands slid over her bare back. But again she pulled back so that they were looking at each other as she spoke, telling him that Desma would not approve of the dream, and that he would be victorious tomorrow. “I don’t know,” he turned to face her as she settled beside him. Her fingers worked one shoulder of his chiton off. “Perhaps the thought will kill her. I should be so lucky.”

”Now, my love. Will you put all thoughts of my nursemaid aside and show me exactly how you dreamed of us together?”

He narrowed his eyes at her as a half smile tugged at his lips. His hand covered hers as she worked the other pin free. “No,” he said, using her hand to pull her against him. “You are incorrigible.” But he liked that about her. There was almost nothing he didn’t like. Which made it all the more irritating to have to keep telling her no.

Shifting them both down so that they were laying on their sides, he made it so that his chest was against her back and his arm over her. He kissed her neck, just below her jaw. This was easier to distract her, hopefully than letting her have full control to do whatever she wanted.

She did what he wanted, allowing herself to be still for a moment. He closed his eyes and held onto her for what he had intended would be the night. This was comfortable and nearly platonic. All that they were supposed to be, at present. To him, at least. Whatever her midwives said, he didn’t necessarily believe wholly. Pia was a woman who usually got whatever she wanted. And if she wanted him...well he would never have put it past her to either pay or cajole someone into saying exactly what she’d told them to.

Her hand reached back, sliding along his hips. His hold on her tightened and he pressed harder against her to block her hand from going further. “Sleep,” he murmured into her ear, pressing another kiss against her neck. Then another...and another, trailing his lips across her skin as her hand worked at the rest of his clothing. Though he’d told her to go to sleep, he didn’t stop her, nor did he shy away when she coaxed him into kissing her.

He knew what she was doing as her body conformed to his. There wasn’t any harm in it, though, because she wouldn’t win. And it was fun to let her try. Desire wasn’t the issue, especially with her this close. He was still hesitant to go against his better judgement but the warmth and feel of her against him was wearing him down.

It wasn’t until a minute or so later that he began to realize the danger she’d lured him into. The false sense of superiority he’d been holding. Because during their kiss, he’d reached down and pulled her thigh so that it was up over his, putting her in an easy position for what she was after. He really didn’t want to fight her on it. But he would. She wanted to be distracting? That was fine by him. But he could do it too, and easier.

He slid his hand up the inside of her thigh and teased his finger lightly against her folds until he reached her core. Slowly he swirled the tip of his finger around, gently increasing pressure as he did so. He broke their kiss and ran his tongue up the length of her neck until he came to her ear. “Don’t toy with me, Pia” he whispered.

It was a game of control to see who could outlast who. In his mind, he was positive he could not actually be persuaded. But just being against her, holding her, teasing her; those weren’t off limits. Hands were fine. And it would be a shame to upset her...or would it? She was passionate either way.