Alexis of Troy (Book I)

κδ′ - Eikosi Tessera

Twenty-Four

The party was unlike anything I could have imagined. I remembered learning that men and women partied separately in ancient Greece. Here in Troy, however, the men and women mingled. And, it was actually kind of fun. I'm not one for partying but I found myself dragged onto the dance floor by several people, none of whom I actually knew, and I drank more than my share of wine and ate more than I'd eaten in a long time. People toasted Dionysus and drank heartily in his name. They also toasted Poseidon to give the Trojan princes a safe trip over his waters. The music was lively, the conversation loud and cheery. It was really hard to resist the festivities.

Paris gripped my hand tightly as he pulled me into the next dance. Despite all the attention he was receiving by the other upper class Trojans, he tried his best to keep me close. The other women in the room all eyed Paris hungrily, glaring at me like I was their competition. As if. My hair was limp, sweat trailing through the thick layer of makeup and I'm pretty sure there were sweat stains under my armpits. Paris didn't seem to mind any of that, though. Given how rosy his cheeks were and how glossy his eyes were, he was enjoying himself a little too much, and tried to rope me into his intoxicating merriment. My own head swam and I didn't have nearly the amount that he did.

For the first time since I arrived, I felt myself start to relax.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look?" he asked, his breath brushing my ear.

"Several times," I said, with a dry laugh. "You, sir, are cut off from the wine bar."

"Oh, come now, I haven't had that much," he groaned.

He spun me around, the wine in my head sloshing about. He was trying to numb himself, to get rid of the awkwardness of being cast into the spotlight. "And you yourself, you're enjoying the wine too I see."

"Yeah, well, I'm a time traveller from the year twenty-twenty. I think getting drunk on wine to forget that for a night is perfectly acceptable."

It took me a slow, horrifying moment to realize that I had used my outside voice. Paris pulled away, his brown knitted in confusion as the room swayed. I had been thinking the words. My drunken brain decided it was a good idea to say it out loud. How could you be so stupid, Alexis?

"Paris... I..." What could I say? "I-I didn't mean that..."

I could tell that he was trying to process the information, his mind going through all our conversations. I thought for sure my cover was blown, but our conversation was interrupted by a young man.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," he said with a sultry voice.

Beautiful didn't quite capture the young man. He was ethereal, with mischievous eyes and an award-winning smile. He had porcelain skin that had been shaped from marble, and a physique to match. He was well aware of it too, for his rich, purple chiton was short, riding up his well-defined thigh and draped over one shoulder. His dark hair was entwined with grape vines, the plump fruits bobbing when he moved. His cheeks were soft and pink from wine, but his eyes were clear like the night sky. There was something about him that was both arresting and alluring.

"I have been meaning to introduce myself to you for some time," the young man continued, his gaze on Paris. "The rumours are true, that you have returned."

The response from the drunk prince was a shy, unsteady laugh, his head bobbing like the grapes in the young man's hair. "I'm sorry, I don't know who you are—?"

The smile that curled the young man's lips was feline, all teeth and ready to bite. I reached for Paris, red flags waving in my hazy mind.

"It's not important," the young man was saying. He pulled Paris towards him and whispered something in his ear, eliciting a hiccupped laugh from the prince. The moment was intimate, uncomfortably so, yet I couldn't walk away.