Note: The image used for the cover can be found here .
When Sinbad started visiting Attica, it hadn’t taken him long to figure out this place was all about appearances. They even had a saying: “What’s beautiful is good, and what is good shall soon be beautiful.”
Princess Thalia was good. At the feast the next day, she dripped with silks and jewels, her pretty face lit up with filial adoration as her father made a toast. She looked so sweet and innocent, nothing like the cunning vixen that had pilfered his metal vessels last night.
But, if he looked closely enough, there were cracks. When her handmaiden brushed against her, she went stiff, and they would lock eyes for the briefest of moments before quickly looking away. Sinbad raised an eyebrow as he brought a cup of cut wine to his lips. So the princess was sleeping with her handmaid. That wasn’t something he saw every day.
At one point, her father leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Sinbad couldn’t guess what he had said, but, after that, there was a visible shift in her mood. Her movements were stiff, her smiles fleeting.
Next to Sinbad, the two heroes from the other day were far less observant. They were preoccupied with whether or not she was a suitable prize.
“It’s a bit disappointing.” Adonis frowned. “After all the rumors about her, I expected her to be a bit more… unique. She looks just like every other pretty girl.”
Theseus scoffed. “I don’t see the problem. As king, you can keep as many whores as you like. Visit every once in a while until she gives you a son, then you never have to see her again.”
Sinbad cleared his throat. He was promiscuous, but he would never talk about a woman the way these men were. All ladies deserved to be cherished equally. Still, he was more than happy to let someone else cherish the woman in question.
By dessert, the novelty of seeing her in broad daylight had worn off. Sinbad busied himself with the servant girl serving him. She was pleasant enough to look at, and every time she laughed, she snorted adorably.
“After this, maybe we could…” He started to invite her back to his room, but the princess’s words from last night rung in his head.
“...You have a weakness for women. I couldn’t have pulled this off without your help.”
“Maybe we could what?” She leaned forward expectantly.
“Nevermind.” His pride still stung from last night, and part of him was nervous about being fleeced again.
Damn it. He had hoped that, if he played his cards right, he could fit in one last pleasant flirtation before he was sealed in an underground tunnel with two crude men and a conniving woman as his company. Just thinking about it made him want to drink, but the wine here was pathetic. She shrugged and retreated to her place over his shoulder.
As she did so, King Hypatos stood, gesturing for his daughter to follow. When he turned away from her, a sour look flashed across her face before she rose and trailed behind him obediently. Her gait was completely different from the sultry, confident sashay of last night. It had been replaced with a prim, even glide. Sinbad and his companions rose as the pair approached.
“Daughter, these men are going to risk their lives in service of this country.”
She raised her hands to her mouth, eyes wide and deceptively innocent. “Oh dear…”
“I want you to extend your blessing to one of them. Choose wisely. The winner may become your husband.”
“Husband?” Clasping her hands in front of her, she looked up at her father. “How could I possibly choose from among such fine men?”
“You will choose.”
Her attempt at evasion having failed, she turned to the men. Her calculating eyes scanned each of them in turn— Adonis, bronze skinned, golden haired, Sinbad, the High King of the Seven Seas, and Perseus, pragmatic and cunning. Her choice was obvious. She’d made it clear who she intended to throw her weight behind last night.
“Heroes, though I wish you all well, I can only offer my blessing to one of you.” She stepped forward, removing a ring from her bejeweled fingers. “Theseus Heraclides, you are brave. Your heroics during the Parthevian siege four years ago have not been forgotten, and you are well-loved among my people.” He held out his hand, and she placed the jewel in it, curling his fingers around it. “Most of all, you are clever. The heroes of old were strong, but where strength failed them, their intellect carried them through. I should be honored if you returned the victor.”
Her stern father nodded his approval.
Stepping back, she put on that tight-lipped smile. He had to wonder what her snub meant, if she had been deceiving him when she said she wanted to him last night. He wanted to ask her, but as soon as her father dismissed her, she was ushered away.
The rest of the festivities were a drag. The wine was too weak to get drunk on, the women all potential scam-artists like their princess. It wasn’t until the procession to the entrance to the tunnels that the princess’s handmaiden caught up to him. She spoke out of the side of her mouth, keeping her gaze straight ahead.
“The princess will meet you within. Bring her back safely… or your blood will be on my hands.” She shot him one sideways glance, hard enough to kill on its own, and said no more, falling back into the bustling street. ittedly, the encounter set him on edge. Somehow, it didn’t feel like an idle threat— not that he thought she would do any real damage, or even that things would come to that.
The entrance to the underground tunnels was located in a craggy cliff below the palace. It was hidden by trees and shrubbery so that anyone who wasn’t looking for it would never find it. Theseus and Adonis adorned themselves with ornate armor of Nemian gold, and Sinbad adjusted the oversized shawl around his shoulders awkwardly. Princess Thalia better keep her word. Without his metal vessels, he was more vulnerable than he would have liked to it.
Hypatos scowled at them. “Go now. Do not return until the creature is slain.”
The three men bowed, and, turning to the dark abyss before them, proceeded.
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