“We’ll remain behind after we check the location.” Perseus said when Arthur rejoined Circe.
Both Arthur and Circe came to a halt outside the drapes, and Endymion stepped inside to inspect the small balcony-set dining area. Several seconds passed, and then the Kidemónas stepped back out with a polite nod to them both, and took up a sentinel position on one side of the three-meter wide black-draped entrance.
Perseus mirrored him, and also nodded to them both.
“You guys sure you don’t want to eat anything?” Arthur paused to ask the Kidemónes, and caused Circe to stop mid-stride as a result.
“We’re fine, Arthur.” Perseus said with a warm intonation. “We’ve got a nutrient mix for when we need on-the-go sustenance.”
“That sounds gross.” Arthur said with genuine apprehension, and memories of something similar from his time on Albion.
Circe glanced between them with an unreadable expression, but didn’t interrupt.
“It’s alright.” Perseus said reassuringly. “Mine tastes like vanilla.”
“You’re sure?” Arthur asked with a glance between both men.
“Go eat dinner, Arthur.” Endymion growled.
Arthur smiled wryly and nodded. “Alright, alright. Thanks, guys.”
“We’ll be here if you need us.” Perseus assured him before joining Endymion in a rapidly statue-still vigil of the dining area.
“Thank you both.” Circe said warmly in turn and, with another assessing glance for Arthur, stepped elegantly through the thick drapes into the sectioned off dining area.
Arthur took a breath and joined her a moment later in stepping through, before pausing at what he saw.
They stood on a private balcony overlooking the raging surf of the Hellenic beachfront, with a clear view to the west where the white radiance of Apollo had taken on a more golden-red hue as it sank toward the horizon. The A0V-type white star was immense compared to Pendragon or even Sol, and Arthur drew in a short breath of naked appreciation for its beauty.
“It’s your first time seeing a Hellenic sunset, right?” Circe asked from where she stood beside one of the elegant, high-backed dining chairs at the opposite side of the large table. The table itself was made of black marble-topped pine, with the Leos lion proudly emblazoned upon the center.
“It is.” Arthur said while stepping around toward her, and instinctively taking hold of the high-backed chair to draw it out for her.
He had been raised in the True Core.
Fragmented memories or not, he understood dining etiquette.
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Circe turned to him when he moved the chair, and her jade eyes regarded the red leather of the padded chair, and then moved back to observe him. Her eyes tightened slightly around the edges, and then she brushed her hair back behind an ear and turned to smoothly sink into the chair.
Arthur pushed it back in while puzzling over her expression, and then turned to take his own seat thereafter.
“How often do you make your way here?”
“Now and then,” Circe said in a slightly distracted tone, “mostly whenever I need to think, or when mother comes down from Asfalís. She loves it here. It was where my parents had their first real date.”
“That explains why that woman—Nika?—seemed so confident around you, at least.”
“Nika’s mother owned the Lion’s Pride before her, but left to open up another restaurant in Sparta a decade or so ago. Nika is about fifteen years older than us, but that means little even here in the Rim. Unless you’re close to your first century, we don’t really think about age.”
“It’s much the same in the Fringe and inner Sectors.” Arthur agreed.
“Another thing to thank the geneticists for, even if other legacies of theirs are incredibly frustrating.” Circe half-muttered while staring out at the slowly encroaching sunset.
“What do you mean?” Arthur asked with a hint of danger pinging his senses.
“Do you really not know?” Circe asked with a look toward him. “Really?”
“I…” Arthur said while trailing off at the intensity of her stare.
“For a smart man, Arthur Magellan, you certainly can be an idiot.”
“I’m not sure that I—”
“You confuse me so much I want to hit you, Arthur.” Circe cut in flatly.
Arthur blinked for a moment, and then stared at her with surprise.
“I do?”
“Yes!” Circe said with a sudden exclamation of frustration, and clear embarrassment at her own outburst. “One second you’re comfortable and relaxed around me, and the next it’s like you’ve put up a wall—like right this instant, in fact! One moment you’re admiring my body, and the next you’re doing everything, anything else. It’s maddening!”
“It isn’t appropriate for me to—”
“It’s a body, Arthur!” Circe cut him off again. “It’s flesh, and sinew, and tissue, and fat! I know I’m beautiful. I’m not being vain when I say that. I know it. I was designed this way. My mother was one of the most sought after women on the planet, and I know I’ve at least equaled her—I know what I am!”
“Then why would you want—?”
Again she cut him off, though strangely Arthur couldn’t find a reason to be upset by it.
“Because! I don’t know! Just because! I—you—we—ugh!”
Circe leaned back in her chair and looked out at the sunset in frustration once more, her lower lip caught in her teeth, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and what he assumed to be anger as well.
Arthur remained silent, and simply let her take the time to think. His mind was racing, of course, and his heart was thundering under his ribs. Despite that though, he knew that what she needed was time to think and process.
He understood that well, after all.
“My whole life,” Circe finally said after almost a minute of silence, “I’ve been surrounded by inferior men. I don’t mean that to make me sound like a snobby bitch, but it’s true.” she wrapped her arms around herself and played with the golden bands on her biceps idly, and still didn’t turn to look at him. “Weaker, vain, self-entitled, and less capable than me in every way that mattered. I’ve been fending off their advances since I was twelve, in some awful cases, and learned to guard myself against anything as stupid as girlish infatuation—until you come along.”