I’d gone to sleep with only one lamp, and I’d extinguished its flame myself. No matter how costly the gift, stealing into my room while I slept was an invasion, and it had Medea’s mark all over it. I traced the embroidered outline of a grapevine with one fingertip. The divine Dionysos gave us the gift of vines, grapes, and wine, but there were stories of men and women driven into violent frenzies by the god as punishment for offending him. Medea’s extreme, unpredictable passions didn’t come from wine. Perhaps it would have been better if they had. At least then I might be able to catch sight of her with a goblet to her lips and brace myself for her next eruption.
I shook out the fabric, and a strange, heavy perfume wafted from its folds. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was overpowering. I brought the cloth closer to my nose and sniffed. There was a second smell lurking beneath the thick, flowery scent. Its sour harshness refused to be smothered completely, and only a few breaths of it made me queasy. So much for the beautiful dress. I wasn’t going to wear it. Maybe that disturbing scent meant nothing, but I mistrusted the giver too much to embrace the gift. I folded it and laid it across the foot of my bed, then put out all the lamps except one.
When I woke up the next morning, the crowd of dead oil lamps around my bed was still there, though the crimson and gold dress was gone. In its place was a simple blue gown that carried no suspicious scent. Why had Medea crept back to exchange one dress for another? Had she even done this herself, or had she sent a servant to fulfill her whim? In either case, I should have sensed the presence of my midnight visitor. I’d have to be more vigilant in the future.
The new dress was very tempting. I hadn’t had fresh clothes to wear for days and I longed for the feel of clean cloth against my skin, but wariness made me hesitate. I was still holding the dress up, debating whether or not to put it on, when I heard a deliberate cough from the doorway.
“Milo!” I was so happy to see him that I nearly knocked him off his feet. “You probably know your way around the palace already. Can you help me find breakfast? I’m starving.”
“That’s why I’m here.” There was a small basket at his feet. It held bread, cheese, figs, and some smoked meat.
I sent Milo into the corridor while I cleaned up and put on the new dress. I made sure to fasten my sword at my waist. The weathered belt looked out of place against the fine blue fabric, but after the double invasion of my room the night before, I wasn’t going to take chances.
We ate in the queen’s garden. I was halfway through my second chunk of bread when I said, “You forgot to bring—”
“—something to drink,” Milo finished. “Sorry. Do you have anything in there?” He pointed at the doorway to my room.
I shook my head. “I used all my water for washing.”
He stood up and stretched. His time aboard the Argo had been good to him. He’d put on healthy weight and gained a sense of confidence. He no longer looked as if he feared to wake up one day and find that his freedom was only a dream. “I’ll see what I can find, then,” he said. “There were plenty of amphorae in the crew’s sleeping chambers this morning, wine and water both.”
“Do you think there’s any left?”
“Water or wine?” He grinned.
“By the way, where are all the men?” I asked.
“The ones who aren’t busy bothering the serving girls are practicing their battle skills with Lord Aetes’ guards. There’s a training ground, but it’s a fair distance from the citadel. I think the palace weapons bearers get more exercise than the men, carrying their gear there and back.”
“Except for one lazybones who’s hiding in the queen’s garden instead of doing his proper work. Poor Iolaus! This is the thanks he gets for hiring you.” I was teasing, and Milo knew it.
“And what about a weapons bearer so lazy that he’d rather turn into a girl than do his job?” Milo countered, laughing.
I stood up. “A girl who can carry two amphorae of wine to your one,” I said.
“One to my three, you mean!” Milo declared, getting into the spirit. “But you’ll have to find them first.” He made a taunting face at me and darted into the palace.
I raced after him gladly, our laughter echoing through the halls. We had a few near collisions with Lord Aetes’ slaves and servants, and drew our fair share of outraged curses from stuffy palace officials, but it felt so good to run! Milo soon forgot all about going back to the crew’s chambers to search for those amphorae. He ran right past the doorway and didn’t give it a glance. Though my dress hindered me and my sword slapped against my left leg at every stride, I was enjoying myself.
When we’d exhausted the maze of corridors on the lower floor of the palace, Milo took our wild chase up a flight of stairs to the second level. Here the passageways were mostly narrow walkways leading to the sleeping chambers around the palace’s many courtyards. Because of my skirt, Milo outdistanced me just as we burst out of a dark corridor and into one of the open spaces. My eyes were dazzled by the sudden sunlight, but I could still see him putting even more space between us. Oh no you don’t! I thought, and paused to hike up the hem of my dress and jam it into my sword belt before taking off after him again.
I ran headfirst into Medea. In the scant few moments I’d paused to adjust my dress, she’d stepped out of one of the upper-level rooms and right into my path. The impact sent both of us tumbling backward onto our rumps. She yelped indignantly.
“What’s the matter with you, woman?” came a male voice. “Do you want your father to have me killed?” Jason strode out of the same room Medea had just left.
“It’s her fault!” Medea whined, jabbing a finger at me. “She was spying on us!”
“Why would I want to waste my time doing that?” I replied tartly.
Medea glared at me. Jason helped her to her feet and kissed her in front of me as if I were nothing but a piece of furniture. When she finally unhooked her fingers from the front of his tunic, she was smiling.
“Running around my father’s palace like this, not caring if you tear your pretty new dress! Really, Atalanta, you are uncivilized.” She giggled and gazed up at Jason. “See how badly she treats my gift!”