Ninsarina was gone.
Later, when full darkness had settled over the Dardan lands, the old steward of Sigeion and the elderly priest Aktor arrived at the estate. They brought the five Talents in gold and the incriminating parchment letters from Deiphobus.
Aeneas personally counted the ransom. The new entry on the wax tablet ledger eased the tension between his brows. The heavy gold ingots gleamed in the candlelight. Their sheen was deeply reassuring. He traced a finger over the cool metal surface. His mood lifted slightly. Felt a little lighter.
(This eases the financial pressure! But the needs are still great: rebuilding the town, re-establishing outposts and camps, expanding the garrison, accelerating construction, building workshops... We'll need Deiphobus's five Talents before funds are truly comfortable.)
When Helenus was released, the former prince burst from the cellar in tattered clothes. He even refused the honeyed wine Aeneas offered. Straw still clung to his prison tunic. His once-carefully styled curls were a matted mess. The fermented stench of urine, mixed with the moldy smell of cellar straw, wafted from him. The air carried a terrible potency.
Aeneas, ever the hospitable host, tried to persuade him. "Won't you stay and rest tonight? The roads are dangerous after dark. Leave after breakfast in the morning!" He perfectly overcame his aversion to the horrific odor. After all, this was a valued client. Basic courtesy demanded enthusiasm.
But Helenus would have none of it. "No need! I won't stay a moment longer," he snarled, not looking back. He scrambled onto the chariot like a startled animal. But his resolve was iron. He would leave. Now.
He swore through gritted teeth. (One day, you'll be kneeling beneath Troy's walls, begging for mercy!)
The poor old steward, and the priest Aktor… The two elderly men had rushed here by chariot. They were already sore and exhausted. But with Helenus storming off, they had no choice. They braced themselves. Bid a brief farewell to the seeing-off Aeneas and departed. The old steward nearly dropped his walking stick boarding the chariot. Aktor had to steady him with a trembling hand. Their exchanged glance was full of shared misery. Dread for the jarring journey ahead was plain in their eyes.
By the time moonlight spilled like liquid silver, Aeneas finally returned to his own courtyard. Ready to rest after the long day.
He crossed the courtyard, its ground dappled with tree shadows. Pushed open his door. The familiar scent of olive wood greeted him inside.
He had just changed. Was rubbing his temples, about to douse the lamp, when three soft knocks sounded at the wooden door. The raps were gentle as petals falling on water. His hands, which had been undoing his belt, froze.
Aeneas opened the door, puzzled. Was surprised to find a familiar figure. The beautiful Thaleia stood outside, wrapped in a dark blue cloak. The same moonlit night. The same lovely woman. A familiar scene. The ends of her hair held the same night dew. The hem of a linen nightdress, embroidered with pomegranate blossoms, peeked from beneath the cloak. It was the very same one she'd worn on her first nocturnal visit.
Aeneas couldn't help a soft laugh. "Thaleia. Good evening. This timing, this outfit... it brings back some interesting memories! Don't tell me you're here with another 'debt of gratitude'?" He leaned casually against the doorframe. His tone was teasing.
Thaleia's cheeks flushed a soft pink. Her fingers twisted in the edge of her cloak. "Lord Aeneas... if I said I came tonight with the same intention... would you think less of me?"
Aeneas was taken aback. "You mean... I told you before! I didn't do it to claim your body. And you and Sergestus serve the estate now. There's truly no need..." He stepped back half a pace, into the light from the doorway. The movement made Thaleia misinterpret it as rejection.
Before he could finish, he saw her expression change. It went pale as a lily battered by a storm. The color drained from her face, leaving it desolate and sorrowful. Her eyes welled with unshed tears. Her body trembled slightly.
"That's not what I meant... It's not that I don't desire you. I actually want to very much... No... That's not it either... I mean I don't want to go against your will..." He stumbled over the words, flustered. His hands moved helplessly.
Thaleia's tears vanished into a smile. Her eyes shone bright and beautiful in the moonlight. "You desire me. And this is my will." Her graceful form moved closer to Aeneas.
Aeneas retreated awkwardly. He watched as Thaleia stepped into his room. She closed the door behind her.
He swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed. "Thaleia... you might not realize how tempting you are. I don't have the confidence to refuse you again. You should know... if you don't stop me... you know what will happen?" His voice was hoarse with restraint.
Thaleia gave a soft, gentle smile. She undid the cloak's tie. It slid to the floor like falling night, revealing the soft curves outlined by her thin nightdress. The scent of wild roses from her hair suddenly saturated the moonlit room. She stepped forward quickly and embraced Aeneas. The girl's body beneath the linen was like a newly opened bud. Warm. Stirring. It pressed against him without reservation.
Through the thin fabric, Aeneas felt her clearly. Full, lovely, soft, warm. Holding him. Trembling slightly. He could feel the shoulder blades under his palms quivering like startled sparrows. But her arms around his waist were firm. Tenacious as clinging vines.
Thaleia buried her face in his chest. Her voice held a trace of anxiety, but was resolute. "I'm truly willing. Even if you give me no status. Just let me stay by your side forever..."
She looked up, met his eyes. In that gaze, unique in its youthful brightness, Aeneas saw her resolve. A decision to stake her entire fate. That determination and tenderness erased his last hesitation. He bent his head and kissed her.
"I cannot promise you the title of wife. But by my side... in my heart... there will always be a place for you..." He whispered the promise against her forehead between breaths.
The girl wept with joy. Held him fiercely. Aeneas held her with one arm. With his other hand, he snuffed out the oil lamp. Then he began to remove the girl's final protections.
A roguish smile touched his lips. "Then... my beautiful Lady Thaleia... as punishment for repeatedly testing your lord's limits... tonight you must be prepared to get no sleep..." His fingers traced paths over her skin. He felt the shivers that rose in their wake. Like ripples stirred by a breeze across a lake.
Thaleia, timid yet stubborn, breathed her reply. "I am willing... for you to do anything to me..." The words blossomed as warm mist against his neck. They severed the last threads of his restraint.
In the darkness came the soft sound of cloth shifting. The murmur of low voices. The sound of breath. Moonlight through the window lattice witnessed their union in love and promise. The olive leaves rustled in the night wind — a soft whisper accompanying the rite.
******
The next morning, Aeneas was conspicuously absent from drills.
To be precise... last night had been too exhausting. He'd slept right through sunrise. Sunlight, like molten gold, pooled on the plain stone tiles of the room. Lazy dust motes floated in the air, mingling with the faint, lingering scent of their intimacy.
When dawn light pierced the window lattice, he opened his eyes to find the beautiful girl beside him... a woman now. Thaleia lay propped on an elbow, watching him with a blissful smile. Her long black hair cascaded over the bran-filled pillow. Her deep brown eyes held a honeyed, clinging warmth.
She whispered with a soft laugh, "You're waking late, my lord. You must give me time to tidy up..." A faint blush returned to her cheeks. She sat up, clutching the rumpled sheet to her chest. It slipped slightly, revealing marks like dark petals against her skin.
Last night's battle had been fierce. Aeneas was strong, but Thaleia was a trained warrior too. It had taken nearly two hours before she finally succumbed to exhaustion. He'd collapsed into sleep immediately after. Now, a pleasant ache lingered in his muscles. The satisfying fatigue after a great campaign.
Seeing the constellation of love bites covering her, Aeneas felt a surge of masculine pride. But the morning was slipping away. He threw off the covers — then paused. A smear of warmth stained the sheet, a ghost of last night's heat. His movements softened as he draped her outer robe over her shoulders.
Terani would be charging in any moment now. With her little shadow, Talia, in tow. The thought of the lively maid and the wide-eyed girl made his scalp prickle. This disordered room, the evidence of last night's passion... the two minors absolutely could not see it.
He scrambled to gather the clothes scattered across the floor. The tangled fabrics seemed to whisper tales of their nocturnal abandon. Thaleia, wrapped in the sheet, slid gracefully from the bed. She wobbled slightly as her feet touched the ground. Their eyes met. Both flushed simultaneously.
Thaleia swiftly moved to help Aeneas dress. She insisted on attending to him first, her movements practiced and efficient. A happy smile played on her lips. But Aeneas, watching her lovely form, felt the familiar stirring again. He forcefully suppressed the urge. No time...
Her loosely tied robe gaped at the neck, revealing traces of his lost control from the night before. He had to look away, fixing his gaze on the bronze shield hanging on the wall. Anything to cool the rising heat.
They were still frantically tidying the disarray when a silvery call erupted from outside. Footsteps echoed between the columns, rapid as sudden rain, mixed with the distinct, clear laughter of a young girl.
Terani, dragging Talia behind her, burst past the pillars. Their footfalls startled the doves nesting under the eaves. "My lord! Breakfast! It's ready... Huh? Wha—? Is my lord not up yet?"
The wooden door flew open with a BANG! Terani, with her little shadow Talia in tow, charged in. The door slammed against the stone wall, shaking loose a fine dust and startling a robin preening on the windowsill.
"Oh...." Terani's eyes went wide, her mouth slightly agape. Her gaze swept over Thaleia's hastily tied sash, the misaligned collar of Aeneas's tunic, and finally landed on the stark, dark red stain on the rumpled sheets. Her round face instantly flushed a deeper red than the rising sun.
Talia peeked out from behind her. "Good morning, my lord! I've never seen you sleep this late! Oh? Lady Thaleia, what are you doing in the lord's room? Are you here to wake him up?" The girl swung her golden-brown braids, innocently asking the kind of blunt question an adult would never voice.
She then began turning her head, sniffing the air in the room like a little puppy. "That's weird... my lord... your room smells a bit strange..." She wrinkled her small nose, completely unaware she was commenting on a deeply intimate secret.
Terani, her face burning scarlet, quickly clapped a hand over Talia's mouth. She hauled the oblivious girl backwards, refusing to look directly at the couple. "My lord, Lady Thaleia... please, take your time! I'll... I'll tell the Lady Aresya you'll be along shortly..."
She then dragged Talia away. They vanished like a pair of startled swallows. Their skirts whipped up a flustered breeze by the door, leaving only the fading sound of Talia's protests from between the columns: "Terani, don't pull so fast...!"
Aeneas turned to look at Thaleia's deeply blushing face. He offered a wry smile. "Well, that's just perfect. Now the entire estate will know."
He could already imagine it. His mother Aresya's face, lit with a knowing, benevolent smile. Her eyes, seeing everything, would sweep over them from head to toe. Then she'd casually mention something about 'needing to prepare new bedding.' Thaleia, hearing this, buried her burning face in the tunic she had just straightened for him. But she couldn't hide the sweet curve of her smile.