The Loyal Spartan의 모든 챕터: 챕터 1 - 챕터 5

The Fates must despise me. Every glimmer of hope they've dangled before me has been snatched away or tainted by their cruel hands. My first love was forced to marry another. My wife, Pavlina, was stolen too soon by the creeping shadow of cancer. A chimera claimed my right arm, and with it, my rank. Now... now I serve a snot-nosed ten-year-old brat. I've learned judgment comes with consequences, but some lessons stick in your throat like bile. Still, it's hard not to pre-judge this heir of Ares when I knew his father. Nikos, Lord Zeus, is a bigger fucking asshole than Eugenius, Lord Ares, a feat I once thought impossible. So I could only imagine the arrogance in this boy's pedigree. Dangerous, too. The seers whispered he was destined to be the destroyer of Olympus. When I was introduced to my new miniature Lord, I strongly resisted the urge to wrap my last remaining hand around his throat. "Hypatos…" Arete sighed, her voice a balm as she kisse

The miserable reality of serving ten-year-old Androkles settled over me like a shroud. I woke each morning with the same thought: today, I will have to wipe the smug look off that boy’s face. I fully expected him to be spoiled and cruel, a miniature version of Nikos, Lord Zeus, all petulance and privilege. But what I discovered was something far stranger.Androkles was frighteningly intelligent, sharp-tongued, and emotionally detached for a child his age. He didn’t whine or demand sweets. He demanded reports on troop movements and crop yields. He didn’t throw tantrums; he threw verbal daggers with an unnerving precision. The first week, when I’d served him undercooked eggs, he hadn’t cried or thrown his plate. He’d looked at me with his cold, blue eyes and said, “A steward who cannot properly prepare a morning meal is unlikely to manage a household properly. Do better, Hypatos.” The casual dismissal was

One year. Three hundred and sixty-five days of having Arete as my charge. One year of stolen conversations in the Pegasus tavern with Saea, her acidic humor smoothing some of the roughness from each day. One year of stolen moments with Arete herself, slipping into dark corners to press desperately shut mouths together, hands grasping clothing and skin until hers was all I could see or feel, and my life as Keeper to House Ares didn’t seem quite so empty. It hadn’t been enough. Time itself seemed to pause while the messenger spoke. He was young, probably no older than I was before I was cast down from grace. Dust coated his cheekbones, and he kept his eyes focused on the floor when he spoke to Eugenius in the main hall of our estate. I’d been polishing ceremonial armor in a dark corner when he’d arrived, but I heard him.Chimera. Attack. On the road to Erasmus’s estate. Lady Arete…