Her stomach was the last thing on his mind. The difference to her body mattered little. She was as soft under his hands as he remembered and just as willing. The way her fingertips traced the back of his neck elicited shivers wherever she touched.

The kiss was sweet, with no agenda behind it. He didn’t have to concern himself with nagging doubts of if she wanted to trap him or use him for some political purpose as her mother had no doubt instructed her to do in the past. Instead, she seemed to welcome him because she wanted him. And for some reason, kissing her now, like this, felt like coming into a sunlit meadow after wandering shadowed paths.

He smiled against her lips and didn’t pull away. This was enough for the moment; to hold her to him, to forget their responsibilities, to taste her and feel her, and to let her do the same.

Outside, the rain crescendoed. True streams sang through the temple in the shallow floor divots made by other storms. They were joined and fed by waterfalls from the holes in the ceiling. Surrounded by water, he could almost have imagined they were inside Poseidon’s domain under the ocean. Yet, where they stood, pressed together, they were safe.

The fingers of one hand teased along the smooth skin of her chest, following her contours until he came to her shoulder. Gently, he slid his fingers underneath the clasp of her chiton, pushing it aside until it rested on her upper arm. He left her mouth to trail kisses from her shoulder to her neck as his other hand worked the clasp on her other side to expose her there too.

He didn’t need or want her immediately naked. This slow, languid pace was sure to make them both incredibly impatient. It was precisely for this reason that he captured her mouth again, deepening their kiss. If he was going to make love inside a temple, he was making sure to worship the body of his lover. Besides, it would be a true sin to ignore the needs of his wife.

A short laugh rumbled in his chest as she undressed them both. He’d known she would be impatient and he liked it. Her hand trailing over his stomach sent goosebumps racing ahead of her fingers and he took hold of her wrist, staying her downward progress. His intent was not to let her goad him into losing himself to her too quickly.

Until they’d come out here, he hadn’t realized that he wanted her this close, or like this at all. Each of his days was one frantic hurdle after another, attempting to stay one step ahead of Irakles or cutting him off before he could do something else to make himself seem like the perfect prince. The thought of Irakles made his heart pound in a sudden spike of anger but Pia gently took his hand and pressed it to her lips. He watched her, the serene expression on her face, and felt the momentary frustration melt away.

She pulled him to her, feathering kisses against his lips before pulling away again. They stared at each other. It was as if she was searching his face for signs of something. He wanted to kiss her again but she spoke first. A quiet admission that she loved him.

His eyes searched hers. There was expectation there. Hesitation. Hope. He pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, focusing on the softness of her skin as the fingers of his right hand followed the delicate curve of her shoulder and down her chest, between her breasts, to her stomach, where he flattened out his palm. Inside her, whether boy or girl, heir or not, she was carrying the product of their union. For him, and he suspected for her, that union had not been born from love. It had been born from desire. And now Olympia seemed to be seeking to change that.

With his other hand, he cupped her face and guided her mouth to his. The kiss was soft at first but grew insistent, and then consuming. He pushed her chiton the rest of the way down. All at once, he placed both hands on her backside and lifted her up, waiting until her legs wrapped around his waist to press her against the wall.

He didn’t break their kiss. He didn’t want her tongue free to talk. He didn’t want to consider whether or not she was serious that she loved him. He didn’t want to play games.

The Leventi girls were dangerous and he’d known it when he’d first spotted her walking along the corridors of the palace. She was in a place where she should not be; one of the private corridors reserved for family. Whether she’d been trying to catch him or his brother, he’d never been sure but Zach was never interested. Of that he was certain. And it hadn’t taken much to get her to come with him.

He’d said something teasing. She’d laughed. And then somehow, as it always happened for him, he’d found her in his bed with her legs wrapped around him as they were now. There was something about her that he found calming and he’d always wanted to trust her; except he hadn’t ever made that mistake. The matter of her last name always kept him from nose diving into what he might consider love.

And now she was pregnant, and his wife. Something else he’d always suspected she was after, like the rest of them. His eye had always been elsewhere. On higher prizes; princesses in Athenia or Colchis. Yet here he was, married to someone he’d vowed to himself he would never marry, and actually enjoying it.

She was easy to hold. Despite her growing belly, she didn’t actually weigh much more. At last he left her mouth. He kissed under her jaw, her neck, and back to her lips. He waited until he knew she was ready, and entered her, sighing against her at the familiar wonder of being connected with her.

He did not love her, but he didn’t not love her either. She was some sort of in between that he couldn’t put into words. For Stephanos, this was as close to love as he’d ever been. And it was just as well for everyone, that he almost loved his wife.

Time slipped away as they moved together. Her breath catching in his ear, her nails biting into his shoulders, and her body tightening around him made him want to give her more. The longer they were here together, the longer he could put off going back.

When he perceived that she was on the edge of climax, he slowed his pace to ease her back down, willing to risk frustrating her just to keep her longer. He grinned against her mouth at her response but continued to frustrate both his own and her efforts. There wasn’t enough time to kiss her everywhere he wanted. The floor was too cold and dirty to lay her down. He made do with any part he could reach, her lips, cheek, temple, neck, shoulders, chest.

She was soft and warm and deliciously tempting. He couldn’t remember her ever say no.

Without realizing it, he’d let her direct them. Her breathing and sounds, the way she tensed, brought him to his own peak. He held her to him, kissing her until she was done. Only when she was ready did he set her down, but he didn’t let her go. It was strange but he couldn’t quite bear to be separated from her just yet.

“I don’t want to go back,” he murmured against her temple as he pressed another kiss there.

“....Have...what he wants?” He repeated slowly, disbelief edged in each syllable. She tensed against him, as though realizing her mistake. And mistake it was. Somehow he’d managed to actually forget their troubles. ‘Lost’ in this corner of nowhere, surrounded by thunder and water, kept warm by her body against his, he’d found a measure of peace that wasn’t to be had when numbed with wine. But in a single sentence, she’d broken that calm and it leaked back, clawing into his thoughts again.

She didn’t mean it, he knew. He hoped. But suddenly, a new idea occurred to him that he hadn’t thought of before. What if Irakles had spoken to her? To have her try and convince him to abdicate?

Immediately he shook the thought away and tightened his grip on her. That was pure paranoia. Irakles was sly and cunning but he wouldn’t use Olympia to convince him of abdication. His style was much less subtle and a lot more geared towards his own glory. If his uncle had any weakness, it was surely pride. And Stephanos suspected that when the time came to confront one another, Irakles would want to be there to gloat.

A clap of thunder and Pia gently pushing back brought him back to himself. He looked down in time to see her pulling her chiton back up and he silently clasped each side in place. In a few moments, he too was dressed again and he stepped back from her under the pretense of cleaning up using the newly formed stream of water rushing in one of the divots of the floor.

What she’d suggested bothered him. The more he thought on it, the more agitated he became. It would be easy to just...disappear. Or to abdicate. His life would smooth itself out, more than likely. But those thoughts were traitorous. Sometimes he could still feel the weight of his father’s head, resting in the bottom of a makeshift bag, just hanging from his hand.

His stomach flipped dangerously hard. He swallowed.

She hadn’t meant anything by the comment. He knew it. But for a long minute, he didn’t dare look at her. Sometimes he was sure people could tell he was going mad. If they locked eyes, she’d see things he didn’t want her to know. Things he was afraid of. Things she should fear too, if she’d known to do so.

Instead he mastered himself and then stood, wiping water across his face and letting it drip from his chin. He looked around the ruined temple, not seeing the magic in it he’d seen before. Now he saw the faded paint on the walls with chipped stone cracking through in places; the white bone underneath the thin layer of what used to be civilization. Moss clung to the base of most of the statues. Further testament that this place was completely abandoned by those who used to care most about it.

“I think the horses would prefer we didn’t linger overlong,” he said. “Besides,” he added a little bitterly. “Mother will be concerned. We’ve already been gone longer than we should have.”

Xene’s lyre lay forgotten on the ground once again but he didn’t reach for it. Let it stay here.

For some, an ill mood would have made them pull away from someone else completely. But it was not in his nature to be cold for long. He moved back to her and took her by the hand, pulling her to him again. It pleased him more to be in her good graces and she in his, rather than for them to quarrel over something so small; or at least, something that should have been small.

“It’s warm rain,” he said as though convincing her to go out in it, though she’d already displayed no qualms with doing so before. “We’ll having a sopping ride back but a hot bath is a nice reward. You’ll stay with me tonight?”

He waited for her answer and then led her back through the temple and to the entrance. Rain fell in a curtain and he paused for a few seconds before plunging through it. Once out, it was a matter of blinking enough times to keep water out of one’s eyes. The ground squished beneath his sandals and he could smell the horses and leather before they even reached them.

Without asking her this time, he lifted Pia onto her horse and mounted his own after untethering both animals. The ride here had been at least a little romantic and full of possibility but now, he found he wanted to get home. Rain was fine for a little while but he was getting cold and he didn’t want Pia to become ill from being in it too long.

He set the pace as fast as he dared go with her in her condition and soon he could hear the distant shouting of his guards. With a tinge of guilt, he realized he’d forgotten all about them. How long had he forced these men to wander the forest, looking and waiting for them? Flashing a knowing look at his wife, he called back, alerting them to their presence.

The captain of the guard rode toward him at a healthy clip, not bothering to hide his irritation. “Your majesties,” he grumbled. “Thanks be to the gods that you are safe. We saw lightning strike earlier. I sent some men to look for you. You’ve evaded them, I see.”

“I hope so,” Stephanos said instantly, thankful that no one had walked into the temple.

With a look to Pia as though it was she who’d thought up the entire expedition and made them all stay out in the blasted storm, the captain of the guard turned his horse to lead them all out of the forest. Stephanos fell behind him and pulled his horse up to Pia’s. The rain had eased somewhat to a drizzle, rather than a torrent. He leaned over as close to her as he physically could without falling off his own horse and said with his usual mischievous grin, “Looks like somebody’s in trouble…”

While riding back to meet up with the guards, he’d successfully forced down his bad mood. It was not a feeling he liked to keep for long. Aside from that, he didn’t want to give Irakles the power to ruin his life completely. The old man wasn’t here, and therefore, this was a time he was allowed to be happy.