Shadows on the Aegean Read Online Free Page A

child.
    Ileana knew she was fertile, she was the goddess on earth. However, she might have to work to find the right partner. It was
     the timing of the thing. Racing always disrupted her moon-cycles, and to become pregnant immediately afterward … she needed
     Kela’s help. The courtier blushed as Ileana directed her most charming smile of gratitude at him. The gift was worthless,
     but he was blond—he could be useful.
    The young Troizen prince had not spoken, not even glanced her way. Intriguing, Ileana mused. He refuses to cower before my
     beauty or to flee my legendary wrath.
    Deliberately she turned to him. He stared straight ahead. Ileana narrowed her eyes. He was not as tall as an Aztlantu man,
     but he was broader shouldered and more sinewy. His body was sleek skinned and oiled, firm young flesh that rippled as he moved.
    He was a blond.
    Per Aztlantu custom he wore a belled, patterned skirt, but strangely he had no waist cincher. A flat link necklace was his
     only adornment. No makeup tinted his lips or ringed his eyes. He turned to her, challenge and carefully banked lust in his
     deep green eyes. “Are you pleased with what you see … my mistress?”
    His arrogance was tinged with charm. He wasn’t afraid of her, and Ileana found the difference thrilling. Playing with him
     could be entertaining. “Thus far,” she said, husky voiced. She rolled a date on her lips before eating it, licking the sticky
     residue away slowly. “However, I cannot make a decision based
only
on what I behold.”
    His eyebrows were not plucked or painted but grew densely, leaving only a narrow gap over the bridge of his nose. Ileana felt
     a catch in her throat. His nose was exquisite, large and bold; his mouth was wide.
    “Even your beauty cannot win you that honor,” he said, rising to his feet. Ileana smiled coolly at his retreating form; he
     was a prince of Troi,
eee?
The man was a peacock; she admired his spirit. She had insulted him, so he had responded in kind. A worthy lover, to give
     as good as he got.
    Ileana was not finished with him yet.
    She saw him embrace a Coil Dancer; holding the girl’s bare breasts in his hands, he kissed her mouth with the fervor of youth.
     Ileana felt desire’s flood rise. Two blond men; who would know if Phoebus were not the true father?
    “He’s quite a stag, is he not?” hissed Vena.
    Too entranced to recall that she hated Vena, Ileana agreed.
    “He’s fostering here. His name is Priamos, the youngest son of Troi.”
    “Why we foster an enemy’s whelp, I do not know,” Ileana mused.
    “Well, if a mistress of your stature and summers knows not, then few of us have any chance at that wisdom,” Vena said with
     a smirk.
    Ileana remembered instantly that this above-herself Shell Seeker from Milos was among her rivals. She smiled sweetly. “My
     poor dear, don’t lust after a younger son, it demeans the clan. I know you must doubt yourself now—your charms, your ability—it
     must be difficult to have a lover flee.” Ileana spoke over Vena’s sputtering protests. “But I overstep your feelings. I do
     not know. I’ve never been put aside.”
    Vena’s rose complexion was mottled with fury. “I could have Nestor back!”
    “He fled to Kemt to get away from you!
Okh!”
Ileana said, touching her lips in feigned chagrin. “I apologize. What is the tale you are bandying about? He volunteered
     on a diplomatic mission for dear Phoebus, is that the right myth?”
    “I could have any man on any shore in the empire!”
    Ileana lifted her rhyton to her lips. “Men being what they are,
having
is no challenge.” She sipped her wine, feeling the peppery bite of oregano and thyme mixed in. “
Keeping
is.”
    “What a wonder you know the difference after nineteen summers wed to
Hreesos
. Tell me, Kela-Ileana, has he slept on your couch more than once?” Vena arched her back as she spoke, throwing her perfect
     body into a pose that halted conversation at two tables.
    Ileana