“Yes, matéras,” he whispered. He glanced back at the metal disk, for the first time in his young life believing what she said was true. With her, he could have anything he wanted. And through her, he could rule the world.
Her smile widened, though she had no idea what he was thinking. But one day soon, she’d know.
One day, she’d regret what she’d just created.
Callia sat in the chair behind her desk in the corner office of the clinic and stared out at the steadily fading image of the Aegis Mountains in the distance. As Argolean seasons coincided with those in the human realm, they were now deep in autumn, and today a low layer of clouds had descended on the valley that housed the city of Tiyrns. Those clouds were moving quickly now, blocking her view of the majestic purple spires and snowcapped peaks that were so often Callia’s only source of peace.
There was an old myth that said the gods had long ago hidden something of great value in the Aegis Mountains when they’d bestowed Argolea upon her people. Something no one could keep in their possession for fear of one using it to the detriment of all. Callia had heard the story hundreds of times as a child. Had often looked out at this same view and wondered just what that something was. But today the myth was nothing but a flicker in her mind. Something of great value? She’d already lost everything she’d ever truly valued. And now—even though she hadn’t quite believed she’d been holding on to him somewhere in her heart—she’d lost Zander too.
A knock sounded at her open door, just before a familiar voice called, “Callia?”
Her father, Lord Simon, second highest ranking member of the Council of Elders, stuck his head inside her office. “Am I disturbing you?”
She shook her hair back, adjusted in her seat. Any other day, she wouldn’t relish his company, but today wasn’t exactly a normal day, and anything that kept her from thinking about Zander was probably a good thing. “No. I was just mulling over a case. What are you doing here? I thought you had Council business today.”
“I do.” He stepped into the room, wearing perfectly tailored slacks and a traditional Argolean crisp white shirt buttoned up to his throat with a long collar that looped from one side around his neck to drape over the opposite shoulder. He was close to four hundred years old, but he didn’t look a day over forty. Tall and trim, she’d always thought he was handsome, with those green eyes and that black hair. She liked to think her mother had thought so too, and that it was part of the reason she’d bound herself to him. Not because she’d been forced to.
Inwardly, she shook her head as she took in his appearance. Conservative for their race, but relatively modern. Most half-breeds, or Misos, thought Argoleans ran around in Greek togas with grape-leaf wreaths in their hair. They had no idea how similar their worlds were.
“I took a break to bring you a surprise,” her father said. “Thought you could use one. You’ve been preoccupied with work lately.” The disapproval in his voice when he said the word work was more than clear, but she ignored it, as she always did.
When he glanced toward the door, her gaze followed. What was he was up to?
Seconds later another head appeared, only this one she most definitely hadn’t wanted to see today of all days.
Loukas smiled, gleaming white teeth flashing against his tanned skin as he straightened and stepped into the office as if he owned it. “Surprise, Callie.”
Callia rose slowly out of her chair, stiffened, though she tried not to show her reaction. She’d always hated the way he took the liberty of calling her Callie, as if he didn’t approve of her real name and was trying to make her into something of his own. “Loukas. What are you doing here?”
His amber eyes flicked over her attire with disapproval; he didn’t like the fact she wore pants. A lock of sandy brown hair fell over his forehead. As far as males went, he was attractive. Average height, fairly good shape, sharp features—but physically or emotionally he’d never done anything for her. And seeing as how she was betrothed to the ándras, that wasn’t exactly great news.
He was also dressed in the same conservative chison as her father, but then, being as he would soon be Lord Lou-kas, the newest elected member of the Council, that wasn’t a surprise either. “I came to invite you to dinner. Tonight. Your cleansing period is almost up. I—” Her father cleared his throat, and Loukas glanced his way. “We thought it might be a nice treat for you.”
Callia couldn’t speak. Had it really been ten years already? Mentally, she ticked through time and realized—oh, gods—it had been. Ten years next month. Her stomach tightened. “I…” She cast a quick look at her father, then back to Loukas. “I have a few more weeks, I believe.”
“We know,” her father said, drawing her attention once more. “But it’s been long enough.” He nodded toward Loukas and smiled with pride. “And Loukas happens to have the ear of the Council Leader. Lucian has agreed to this, so long as your binding ceremony doesn’t take place until after the full cleansing cycle is complete.”
Her stomach rolled as she slowly shifted her gaze back to Loukas, standing before her desk looking smug and victorious. He’d been rightly pissed at her after everything that had happened all those years ago, hadn’t really said more than a handful of words to her since the cleansing ceremony and all during the cycle. And secretly she’d hoped maybe he’d decided another gynaíka was better suited for him. But that obviously wasn’t the case now. Because here he was, swooping back in to claim his prize. As if she were nothing but a trophy. Exactly as the Council expected Ar-golean females to be. His by right, not by merit.
“So, dinner tonight, Callie,” he said as if it had all been decided. “Seven o’clock. My house. We have a lot to discuss. Plans to make.” He glanced around her office and didn’t hide his disgust. “I’m sure you’re as eager as I am to get on with the future. Don’t keep me waiting.”
He didn’t even wait for an answer, simply left the room. And what little bit of independence she’d gained these last ten years seemed to drift out with him.
“Lucian is very excited about your upcoming binding,” her father said with eagerness as Callia sank into her chair and tried to breathe. “He’s planning a big celebration.” Simon glanced toward the still-open door and the empty hallway beyond. “Between you and me, I think Lucian’s going to announce his retirement from the Council shortly thereafter and appoint Loukas as his replacement. Loukas has a head full of good ideas. I can’t even begin to tell you how beneficial this will be for our people.”
Callia’s stomach rolled. Yeah. Good ideas. She knew all about Loukas’s ideas. Like pushing females into the Dark Ages, taking away their independence, their jobs, stressing that a gynaíka’s only worth was to serve the ándras in guardianship over her and to produce offspring to populate their race.
“Callia? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I…”
Tell him no, Isadora. Stand up for yourself. Prove him wrong. Prove them all wrong.
Callia’s temple throbbed as her own words from earlier ran back through her mind. Gods, she’d given Isadora advice about the king? What a joke. Callia couldn’t even stand up to her own father.
She closed her eyes, braced both elbows on her desk and rubbed her forehead. She didn’t want to bind herself to Loukas. Didn’t want to bind herself to anyone, for that matter. The only one she’d ever wanted didn’t want her back. And the thought of being intimate with Loukas…Oh, gods, she couldn’t do it.