The Breaking — Chapter 17

I take the papyrus that contains my freedom, the purse full of drachmae and jewels, and go home. Mykonos has changed in five years. The salt-stained docks creak under the weight of people and cargo, and the agora has spilled into the surrounding streets, its merchants offering honeyed wine, jewelry,

The Breaking — Chapter 16

Sleep forsakes the damned. What good is slumber when the Underworld is filled with the eternally awake? Restlessly, I drift across the long hours of night, trapped in the grey mists between Erebos and the earth. Restlessly, I twist in bedsheets that entangle my limbs. You've abandoned me

The Breaking — Chapter 15

You don't bring me a contract, but I am your wife. There's no announcement, no ceremonial greeting at the hearth, no feast. I've no family to give me away; you seem to have no family to welcome me. No need to sweep me into

The Breaking — Chapter 14

We don't speak of that moment on the balcony. I act as if it never happened. I never took control, never made you so vulnerable—and you act as if that's the truth. But your moods swing like an anchor-stone at the end of a line,

The Breaking — Chapter 13

That winter is one of cold clarity. Days of hard blue skies summon nights that gleam with frost. From you, I learn it's uncommon for Attika to find itself wrapped so tightly in Boreas's chill embrace. It's well beyond my own level of comfort

The Breaking — Chapter 12

When I awaken the next morning, you're still Deimos Autokratōr. You're also still asleep, curled on your side with the blanket thrown carelessly over your body. A thick, ropy scar slashes across the outside of your arm at the shoulder, and silvery lines curve around your

The Breaking — Chapter 11

That night's symposium isn't a grand spectacle in your megaron, or an opulent display in one of the homes of the aristoi. Instead, you bring me to a grove of trees rooted at the foot of the Akropolis.

The Breaking — Chapter 10

If yesterday you were a child, with a child's grasp of emotions, today you're a youth who's just had her first taste of another's lips. And like seeds from a pomegranate, one kiss isn't nearly enough.

The Breaking — Chapter 9

The days pass quickly while you hunt the conspirators who threaten your throne. Sometimes you send me to the library, to help Thukidides conduct research at your behest, but mostly I accompany you while you call on your strategoi, magistrates, and other retainers. I serve wine, kneel by your side—

The Breaking — Chapter 8

Early summer. The afternoon sunshine pours into your bedchamber now that the iron shutters over the windows have been unlocked and pulled aside. I'm sprawled on your bed, reading a scroll, when the outer door to your chambers slams shut with such violence that the mattress jumps beneath