She kissed his cheek. "I'd best go now. Goodnight."
After she was gone, Acheron rolled over onto his back. Closing his eyes, he let his thoughts drift. In his mind he pictured a woman with kind eyes. One who held his hand in public, who was proud to be with him.
He imagined how her hair might smell, how her eyes would light up every time she glanced at him. The smiles they would share. Then he imagined her kissing her way down his body, imagined her looking up at him as she went down on him.
His breathing ragged, he thrust himself against his hand, pretending it was her he made love to.
"I love you, Acheron . . ." He could hear her voice so sweet and calm . . . most of all, it would be sincere.
He gasped as his warm seed coated his hand and seeped between his fingers and not inside a woman who loved him.
Shuddering and only partially sated, he opened his eyes to the harsh reality of his life.
He was alone.
And no woman, mortal or otherwise, would ever willingly claim him.
October 23, 9528 BC
Acheron rolled over in bed, trying to sleep. Apollodorus was screaming so loudly that it echoed all the way down to his room. For hours the baby had cried.
He wasn't supposed to go near the infant, yet he couldn't stand the sound of so much anger and unhappiness. Unable to tolerate another minute of it, he got out of bed and dressed.
Quietly, he walked down the hallway to Ryssa's room, making sure no one saw him. He cracked open the door to find Ryssa and her nurse in the room, swapping the baby between them.
"Why is he doing this?" Ryssa asked in a voice that sounded as if she were about to cry herself.
"I don't know, Highness. Sometimes babies cry for no reason."
Ryssa shook her head at the baby the nurse was rocking in her arms. "Please, child, have mercy on your mother and rest. I can't take much more of it."
Acheron slipped into the room. "I'll take him."
The nurse's face paled as she turned away.
"It's all right, Delia. Let Acheron see if he can quiet him."
The nurse appeared dubious, but in the end she obeyed.
Acheron took his nephew and tucked him into the crook of his elbow. "Hello, little one. You're not going to fuss at me, are you?"
Apollodorus took a deep breath as if he were about to let loose another wail, then opened his eyes. He stared at Acheron for several heartbeats before he quietly cooed, then settled down to sleep.
"That is a miracle," the nurse breathed. "What did you do?"
Acheron shrugged as he placed Apollodorus on his shoulder.
Ryssa smiled. "That's it. I'm making you his nurse."
Acheron laughed at the thought of him as a nurse to anything. "Go to bed, sister, you look exhausted."
Nodding gratefully, she started off. The nurse held her hands up for the baby.
Acheron handed him back, but the instant Apollodorus left his arms, the baby woke up and screamed again.
Ryssa jumped. "For the love of the gods, let Acheron keep the boy. I can't take another hour of this."
The nurse obeyed instantly.
Again Apollodorus cuddled against Acheron and went to sleep.
"Where should I take him?" Acheron asked.
Ryssa paused. "You better not risk the nursery. Father or Styxx might venture there. Take him to your room." She looked at her nurse. "You go to the nursery and cover for us should they ask after him."
"Yes, Your Highness." She bowed and left them.
Ryssa patted his arm gratefully. "Wake me when he's ready to feed. In the meantime, I must sleep."
Acheron kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Rest. We'll be back when he needs you." He watched her climb into bed before he took his nephew down to his room.
"Well, it appears to be just the two of us, little one. What say you we get naked, drunk and find us some wenches?"
The baby actually smiled up at him as if he understood.
Acheron nodded. "So that's it, eh? Barely a month old and you're already lecherous. You are your father's son."
Sitting on the bed, he leaned his back against the headboard and lifted his knees so that he could lay Apollodorus against his legs to cradle him. Acheron tickled his belly, causing him to laugh and kick Acheron's stomach.
The tiny infant amazed him. He'd never really been around one before. Apollodorus took his finger into his tiny hand and led it to his mouth so that he could suckle Acheron's knuckle. The sensation of the toothless gums against his flesh was so strange, yet it pacified the baby even more.
How could anyone hate something so purely innocent? Something so helpless?
The thoughts chased themselves around his mind as he thought about his parents and tried to understand them. He could fathom some of his father's hatred now. It wasn't as though Acheron went out of his way to please the man.
But as a child . . .
How many times had he been slapped for nothing more than looking at someone? How many times had Estes tied his hands behind his back and put a scold in his mouth for asking a simple question?