Kassandra of Sparta Has a Cold

Kassandra of Sparta, holding a cup of wine in one hand and a honeycomb in the other, stood in a dark corner of the kapeleion between two attractive hetaerae who sat waiting for her to say something. But she said nothing; she'd been silent for much of the afternoon, except now in this kapeleion in Mykonos City she seemed even more distant, staring out through the smoke and semidarkness into a large room beyond, where dozens of mercenaries and freewomen sat at the long tables that ran from one end of the floor to the other. The two hetaerae knew, as did Kassandra's two male friends who sat nearby, that it was a bad idea to force conversation upon her when she was in this mood of sullen silence, a mood that had come upon her suddenly during this warm spring day, a month after she'd returned from adventuring.