She tsked at her grandson. "It's not nice to contradict people, Merus. Remember what I've told you. Looks can often deceive you. A poor man can don the robes of a prince and a prince can be shoeless in the street. We judge people by what their actions are, not by the clothes they wear." Her smile was one of complete serenity. "And by Lord Acheron's actions today, we know him to be noble and kind."
Acheron paused as her words touched him deeply. Never in his life had he felt like anything other than a whore, yet here, with two people who were dressed in rags, he felt like a king. It was such a foreign sensation that he actually lifted his chin a degree.
Merus opened the door to a small house that was nestled among a row of them. Acheron had to almost bend double to fit through the short doorway as he followed the two of them inside. The main room was small and crowded, but it felt like home. There was an energy to the place that let him know Merus and Eleni were very happy here together.
However, it made him appreciate how much space he needed in order to move. The rafters were so low, he'd almost given himself a concussion two seconds after he'd entered.
"Are you all right, Lord Acheron?" Merus asked.
Acheron nodded without moving his hand away from his forehead that throbbed from its collision with the wood.
"What happened?" Eleni asked in a panicked tone.
"As I said, Lord Acheron is extremely tall. He banged his head on the ceiling."
Eleni's eyes widened. She approached him with her hand waving in front of her.
Acheron took her hand in his and put it on his shoulder so that she could tell just how tall he was.
"Oh, my gracious," she breathed. "You are huge. Like one of the gods."
Yet another thing that made him a freak to normal people—it'd also made Estes and Catera a lot of money since those who were shorter liked the feeling of power they had over someone his size.
Moving with a grace that was unfathomable to him, Eleni crossed the floor as if she could see every item in it and pulled out a chair for him. "Best you sit, my lord. I can only imagine how stifling our tiny home must seem to you."
"Not at all," he said honestly. Though he was fearful of colliding with more objects, he rather liked her peaceful home.
"Fetch us some milk, Merus."
The boy ran out the door.
Acheron watched as she went to her stove and stoked the fire there effortlessly. He was amazed at how she knew where everything was. There were no missteps or burns.
"My lord?" she asked as she pulled a knife from its holder. "May I ask you a prying question?"
"If you wish."
"Why are you so sad?"
He started to deny it, but why? She didn't know him and he didn't know her. Honestly, he was stunned that she could pick up on his mood without any visual clues. "How can you tell?"
"The sound of your voice when you speak. I hear the weight of sadness in it and a strong lilt of Atlantean."
She was unerringly astute as she cut, then placed bread on a stone trencher to warm. "Is it the loss of a person who saddens you?"
His gut knotted at the thought of Artemis. "A friend."
"Then I weep with you," she said, her tone comforting. "I've lost many friends over the years, and my children. Loss is always hard. But I have Merus and I take so much pride in his growth. He's such a fine boy. You've no idea how much a son means to his parents. I'm sure yours must smile every time they look upon you."
Unable to bear the wounds she opened, Acheron stood. "I should probably be going."
She looked stricken. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No." He didn't want her to feel bad when her intent had been to comfort him. It wasn't her fault that the only person who loved him was his sister and that his parents had both cursed him since the moment of his birth. "I was headed toward the stadium for a play when I stopped in the market. I should go before I miss anymore of it."
She took his hand in hers, then froze as her fingers touched his slave's brand. Her grip tightened. "You're a slave?"
He felt his face heat as humiliation washed over him. He wanted to curse at her accidental discovery. "I was. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here."
But she didn't release him. She covered his hand with her other one and offered him a smile of friendship. "Take your cloak off and sit, Acheron. You've done nothing to apologize for. I admire you all the more for stopping to help us. It's nothing for a nobleman to do so, yet they seldom bother to help those less fortunate. For a freedman to speak up in defense of another takes great courage and character. What you did is all the more noble and kind, and I would be honored to have you sit at my table with us."
Acheron couldn't breathe as emotions gathered to tighten his throat. He wasn't used to anyone complimenting him outside of a bed. "Thank you."
Smiling, she patted his hand before she let him go. "You know, my father used to tell me all the time when I was a child that when we first meet someone we never recall later what was said or what they wore. What we remember most is how that person made us feel. You made my grandson feel important by defending him and you've made me eternally grateful for that selfless act. Thank you, child."
And the two of them had given him dignity. She was right. He'd remember that always.