“Is that Achilles who wishes to see me?” I asked Patroclus, narrowing my eyes.
The last time Achilles had requested my presence, he hadn’t even bothered to show up. Instead, he’d sent me to entertain Khillea. While I couldn’t deny she had been a gift worth my time, the peculiar incident still left questions lingering in my mind. Why summon me in the first place if he never intended to meet?
Patroclus shook his head, offering a faint smile as if trying to reassure me. “No… Not Achilles. He’s not here, so you don’t have to worry.”
I nodded my head. “I see. So he’s really left Troy, then.”
“Not exactly,” Patroclus replied with a bitter laugh that hinted at a deeper frustration. “I think he’ll come back eventually. He’s just waiting for Agamemnon’s apologies.”
“Agamemnon’s apologies?” I echoed, frowning at the absurdity of the thought.
The idea of that proud, arrogant king lowering himself to apologize seemed about as likely as the gods themselves descending to fight this war in our place. Agamemnon was not the kind of man to admit fault, let alone beg forgiveness. Besides, as far as the war was concerned, we were far from desperate.
“It sounds unbelievable, doesn’t it?” Patroclus said, his tone caught somewhere between amusement and disillusionment. “But Achilles seems convinced you lot won’t win this war against the Trojans without us.”
I couldn’t entirely argue with that.
Achilles was not wrong to think the tide of this conflict teetered on the edge of balance. As things stood, the Greeks and the Trojans were locked in a stalemate. If Achilles and his Myrmidons were to rejoin the fray, their prowess could tip the scales decisively in favor of the Greeks. That much was undeniable.
But there was an opportunity in their absence.
“Then we’ll just have to win before he has a chance to return,” I said, my voice firm. “Strike while he’s still sulking over Agamemnon’s pride.”
Patroclus didn’t respond immediately. Instead, a strange glint flickered in his eyes. It was only after a brief silence that he spoke again.
“By the way, you did well with Khillea back then,” he said casually, as if he were complimenting my skill in battle rather than something far more intimate.
I blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard by the remark. Did well? Did he mean by bedding Achilles’ woman? The entire situation had been strange enough, but Patroclus’ casual attitude toward it was baffling.
Something was undeniably off about these men.
“I appreciated the gift,” I replied cautiously, choosing my words with care. “She’s… an impressive woman.”
And she was. Beautiful, sharp, and disarmingly perceptive—Khillea had left a lasting impression on me. Despite the odd circumstances of our meeting, I couldn’t deny that I had found her company enjoyable, even grounding.
“How is she?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop myself.
“Khillea?” Patroclus tilted his head, his expression softening. “She’s happy. Happier than I’ve seen her in quite some time, that’s for certain.”
There was something peculiar in his tone, something almost reverent. It made me pause.
“She’s important to Achilles, isn’t she?” I finally asked, unable to keep the curiosity from my voice.
Patroclus hesitated for a moment before leaning in slightly, lowering his voice as though revealing a sacred secret. “Yes, she is. You could even consider her Achilles’ sister, in a way. But don’t tell anyone else.”
“Achilles’ sister?”
The words hit me like a javelin to the chest. That strange familiarity I’d felt when I was with her—it suddenly made sense. She carried herself with the same unshakable confidence, the same sharp, striking presence that Achilles exuded even from a distance.
“I knew there was something about her,” I murmured. “She reminded me of him, but I couldn’t place it.”
Soon, we arrived at the tent.
“Wait inside. I’ll be back,” Patroclus said, his tone clipped but casual, as if this were just another errand to run.
I nodded silently and stepped through the tent’s entrance.
The interior looked just as I remembered it—spartan yet dignified, with a distinct air of familiarity. The faint scent of oils and leather lingered in the air, mingling with the distant hum of activity outside.
“What a surprise,” a sweet, melodious voice called out, shattering the quiet.
Startled, I turned toward the sound.
And there she was—Khillea.
She stood with a charming, almost teasing smile, her golden eyes gleaming like sunlight dancing on water. Her presence was magnetic, as always, but my gaze didn’t linger on her face for long. It drifted downward, inexorably drawn to the unmistakable swell of her belly.
She was pregnant.
“Could it be…?” I began, my voice faltering as my mind raced.
“Yes, it’s our child,” Khillea said with a laugh, her voice as light and carefree as if she were speaking of the weather. Her hand came to rest on her rounded stomach, patting it gently.
It really happened, then?
I had been going with the flow that night, caught up in the heat of the moment when we’d lain together. At the time, it hadn’t occurred to me that something like this might result. Surely, I thought, she could have taken precautions—something akin to the methods women used in this world to prevent conception.
But she hadn’t. She had chosen to keep it.
“How many children am I going to end up with at this rate?” I muttered under my breath, the weight of this new reality settling over me.
This would be my third child. Third.
“It’s quite… swollen,” I said, gesturing vaguely toward her belly. “Considering it’s been barely over a month.”
Khillea’s smile deepened, her expression practically glowing. “I was blessed by Hera,” she explained, her voice tinged with pride. “The pregnancy will progress quickly. It won’t be long before I give birth.”
“I see,” I replied, though the words felt hollow. My mind was still catching up to the situation.
As if sensing my hesitation, Khillea stepped closer, her movements graceful yet deliberate. Her smile never wavered as she reached out to touch the cold metal of my armor, her fingers tracing its contours with a strange intimacy.
“I’ve been looking for you all this time, you know?” she said softly, her voice carrying a subtle undertone of longing.
“Is that so…” I murmured, unsure how to respond to her sudden closeness.
“Yes,” she continued, her golden eyes locking onto mine. “I wanted to properly thank you for what you’ve done for me.”
Her words caught me off guard, and I found myself frowning. “Thank me? For what, exactly?”
Khillea chuckled, a sultry sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “For everything,” she said, her gaze never leaving mine. “For giving me something I thought I’d never have.”
I hesitated, my thoughts clouded with confusion. “Anyone could have done the same,” I said finally, shrugging.
Her eyes narrowed, a spark of mischief lighting within them. “No,” she said firmly, her voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “Not just anyone. You were my first… and the best.”
Her words hit me like a bolt of lightning, and before I could react, she reached out, her hand brushing against the bulge beneath my pants.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice strained as I felt my body betray me.
Her touch, her presence—it was intoxicating. This woman had a power over me that was impossible to deny.
“As I said,” she murmured, her lips curving into a wickedly seductive smile. “You deserve a reward for what you’ve given me.”
Her hand moved slowly, deliberately, caressing the growing hardness beneath my pants. Each touch sent a jolt of heat coursing through me, making it increasingly difficult to think clearly.
“Khillea,” I managed to say, though her name came out more like a plea than a warning.
She leaned in closer, her golden eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and desire. “Relax,” she whispered, her breath warm against my skin. “This is my way of showing gratitude. Let me take care of you… as you’ve taken care of me.”
“Patroclus might come back soon,” I said, my voice low and steady, though the tension in the air between us was palpable.
Khillea’s lips curled into a sly smile, her golden eyes shimmering with a mischievous glint. “True, but not that soon. He’s probably gone to find my mother. That will take time… which means we have a little while to ourselves,” she murmured, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper as she closed the distance between us.
Before I could respond, her lips found mine.
Soft, warm, and insistent, her kiss was like a spark that ignited something primal within me.
“Hmmmnnnn~~~,” she sighed against my lips, the sound both tender and teasing.
I couldn’t hold back—I kissed her back, meeting her fervor with my own. Her lips moved against mine, eager and demanding, while her hands roamed across my arms, tracing the contours of my muscles.
“Take this off, Nathan,” she whispered breathlessly, her fingers tugging impatiently at the straps of my armor.
Instead of answering, I deepened the kiss, biting her lower lip gently before plunging my tongue into her mouth.
“Hmnnnnnn!” Khillea moaned softly, surrendering to the intensity of the kiss. Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me closer as our tongues danced together, our exchange heated and intoxicating. The taste of her was sweet, almost addictive, as we shared each breath, each movement in perfect sync.
My hands moved instinctively to the straps of my armor, the weight of the metal feeling almost oppressive now. With quick, practiced movements, I began to unfasten it.
Khillea pulled back slightly, her golden eyes darkened with desire as they watched me. Her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling as she gazed at me with unrestrained want.
The armor hit the ground with a dull thud, the sound barely registering as I focused on her.
“Looks like I’m about to have another memorable moment with you,” I said, a smirk tugging at my lips as I reached for her again.