Alexis of Troy (Book I)

κα′ - Eíkosi Ena

Twenty-One

I leaned against the window and gazed out at the gardens. My room had a gorgeous view of the palace gardens, complete with slaves who seemed to toil night and day to ensure not a single leaf or blade of grass was out of place. The palace was designed for perfection. Priam wasn't a god, but he was as close as one human could get without being scorned by the gods.

Even after all this time, I still couldn't get over the fact that I was in the ancient world. Archaeologists might have stood in the exact same spot I stood, thousands of years later and dug up some artifacts. Once upon a time, the world believed Troy had been fictional. There had been a discovery that confirmed its existence, but it was forever encapsulated in Homer's epic poem. A city of unimaginable resilience and riches. The surprise was discovering the gods were real. Athena and her annoying threats were definitely real.

I squeezed the acorn, the little nubbin digging into my palm as if that would help block out the memory of her standing there in the hall, all smug and taunting. She'd left me with more questions. Memory loss—I'd know if I was suffering from memory loss.

Right?

"Despoina?" Mistress?

The voice came out of nowhere, a jolt of fear spiking my blood. Zoisme was so quiet I hadn't even heard her enter. I collected myself to face her. We'd yet to come to a decision on what to do with her, even after my persistence. Paris insisted that slaves were generally treated well, but did that make a difference? Slaves were like family until they nudged a toe out of line. I had promised Zoisme freedom and failed.

Until we figured out what to do next, the least I could do was have her call me by my name.

"Seriously, don't call me that. I'm not your mistress," I sighed, wrapping my arms around my torso. "Call me Alexis."

Zoisme, still recovering from being corrected, dipped her head. It might have been a trick of the light, but I could have sworn there was a glint of rebelliousness in her eyes. It was gone in a flash, leaving me to doubt what I saw.

"Despota requested that I check on you in case you needed anything," she said, using the Greek word for master. "And, I am here to take your measurements, Alexis."

A fresh change of clothing and a bath and Zoisme went from feral to elegant. The chains had been removed. Given how she was still standing before me, no one bothered to ask why the chain had been broken in the first place. Now that she was clean I noticed just how toned she was. She moved with a careful, precise grace I envied. The type of person who needed to wear a bell so she couldn't sneak up on people.

"Measurements?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "What measurements?"

Zoisme pulled out a string and pointed at my waist. "You cannot be presented to the anax and queen in that again. You need something fit for royalty."

Fit for royalty. The chiton Athena had given me had seen better days. The once vibrant blue had faded, the gold

"Oh...right, I guess so."

Despite being here for two days, I was still dressed in Paris' old outfit, still coated in sunlight and sweat. Pretty sure my hair had a life of its own now and any day now I was afraid I'd be mistaken as Medusa. What I really needed was a hot bubble bath with floral scented candles, a glass of wine and a good book. A real self pampering session.

I lifted my arms and Zoisme hurried forward. Measurements, as it turned out, involved measuring by the length of a finger and marking the rope as she went. I wondered how Athena got my measurements. Divine wisdom no doubt. I figured there wasn't a whole lot of sewing and stitching involved with ancient attire, but Zoisme had to get the shape and length of the cloth right for my frame.