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No. It couldn’t be.
Even if Leo had wanted to, there was no way he’d be reckless enough to sneak behind enemy lines just to get Castor. Sure, he did it with me. But that was different. We were in a distant land, on neutral ground, and Retsos was only able to bring two of his most loyal goons. No one else was in on his plan. And it cost him.
Castor, on the other hand, is being held deep in Greek territory, surrounded by a veritable army of Retsos’ most loyal buffoons.
There’s no point in hoping for his return… or fearing it.
What would Castor think of Leo and you?
Shaking that troubling thought from my head, I step into the kitchen to find Leo placing two steaming plates onto the marble island.
“Just in time,” he smiles, those dimples making me forget every concern I could ever have.
“I thought you only knew how to make bacon?” I tease, drifting towards the heavenly smell.
“That’s still true… these were made by the chef,” he says, motioning for me to come join him. “You just missed him.”
“I didn’t even hear him,” I respond, stretching out my stiff arms with a yawn.
“That’s because he’s a former assassin. Quiet as the night. But the man quit that life to follow his true passion. Cooking.”
“You can quit the life of an assassin?” I ask, my face scrunching in confusion. I’ve never heard of a Greek soldier being allowed to leave the Oikos. And I never even considered that it was something that I could ever do.
“Sure…” Leo nods, taking a big chunk of his pancake and shoving it into his mouth. “You can switch jobs if you really want to… you just can’t quit the Black Delphi itself… ever.”
That makes more sense, but it also fills my chest with an unexpected heaviness. I may not feel trapped with Leo anymore, but I’ll always be trapped by the consequences of my birth.
“Have you ever wanted to become anything else?” I suddenly find myself asking. “I mean… what do you think you would be if you weren’t… well, a king?”
It’s hard to see Leo as anything else. And I can’t help but giggle at the thought of him quitting to become the world’s worst cook.
Leo smiles at my amusement. But there isn’t any hesitation in his answer.
“If I weren’t king, I’d be a man who did whatever it took to become king,” he says. “Now eat before your breakfast gets cold.”
I take a bite of the delicious pancake as I mull over his answer.
“So, you enjoy being a leader?” I ask, licking up the syrup from my lips.
“It’s not about enjoying it, Sophia,” Leo responds, shaking his head. “It’s about being born for it. I’m sure you can relate.”
“I thought I could…” I sigh, remembering how powerful I felt when soldiers first started to rally by my side… and then how weak I felt when it all fell apart because one man was able to outmaneuver me.
“You are a leader,” Leo says, his words strong and confident. “Your men wouldn’t be doing what they’re doing if they didn’t desperately want you to lead them again.”
“If I was a real leader, they wouldn’t have to be doing anything to get me back,” I sigh.
The queen who rallied her father’s most fearsome troops feels like such a distant memory that I can hardly even relate to her.
That young woman was so filled with hate and anger. It blinded her… and it caged her. She couldn’t even see what she was creating.
Chaos. Terrorists. Darkness.
Do I even want to lead those kinds of men? Would they even listen to me if I told them to lay down their weapons? Or would I become a traitor, an enemy to my own people?
These heavy questions weigh me down so much that I can’t even gather the strength to lift my fork and take another bite of my breakfast, no matter how hungry I am.
Leo seems to sense this. Standing up, he takes my hand in his and rubs his thumb over the back of my palm.
