Ba'an could not quite describe what happened next: the world went red.

She was not aware of moving, but when she blinked it away, she was no longer standing aside; she was standing before the tangled pair, throwing her looming shadow over their supine forms.

Mai'ra, who had bolted as soon as Ba'an released the rope, had not gone far; she had her nose stuck between Lukios and woman, snuffling as she rubbed her head against Lukios chest. She seemed to be doing her best to eat his chiton, to his increasing distress.

Well. The woman could hardly kiss Lukios again now, could she? Good girl, Mai'ra. Ba'an refrained from saying so out loud. Not only was that ill-mannered, she would also appear quite mad—which she was. But it was not that sort of madness.

"Ack! Mai'ra! Stop! What is it with you ladies today? Do I just smell tasty or something? Hey! Hey!" Lukios put one arm around Mai'ra's neck and the other on her chest as he tried to keep the very affectionate nanny goat from eating his clothes. "Arete! Will you do something? Something that doesn't involve kissing! I'm being eaten by a goat!"

Ah. Yes. Of course that's who she was; her resemblance to Gaios was uncanny. She was his spitting image if he had been thirty-some odd years younger and female. Arete stared at Mai'ra, whose face was now disappearing into the folds of Lukios' chiton. "Well, I could," she said, "But this is just too funny." She put her hands over her mouth and tittered. "Lukios, I did warn you. This is what happens when you're irresponsible with that face of yours." Mai'ra gave a very muffled little bleat, which could have been agreement if she had not been a goat. Arete laughed harder. "But congratulations. She's a very beautiful girl. I'm sure you'll have long, happy lives together." Then she bent over and guffawed.

Ba'an sighed, eyeing the rope and the nanny. She really ought to stop Mai'ra. Really.

But perhaps she should untie them, first. This way, Arete would have no reason to continue sitting in Lukios lap, the sight of which was making her fingers itch and tingle with magic.

Yes. This was urgent.

Very urgent.

Good girl, Mai'ra. I will give you a treat later.

Arete looked up at her sigh. "Oh, hello! You must be Lukios' Sander savior!" She smiled widely and clapped her hands. "I'd greet you properly, but I'm a little tied up at the moment!" She wriggled against the ropes and winked, then laughed at her own joke.

Ba'an felt instantly disturbed. That was exactly the sort of thing Lukios usually said. Arete raised her arms and tugged on the thickly braided fiber. "Would you mind? It's become quite the tangle, hasn't it?"

"Very funny," Lukios muttered. "That's my joke. You can't steal my jokes. Stop stealing my jokes!" He grunted with displeasure, then continued, "And don't kiss me. Have you lost your mind? You can't just go kissing a man on the mouth! What's wrong with—ack! Mai'ra! Mai'ra!" He squirmed. Mai'ra bleated in victory and yanked a little folded square of cloth from his chiton. The package unfurled, hurling dried fruit glazed in honey over the filthy streets; Mai'ra dove in, instantly losing all interest in Lukios.

"Mai'ra! No! Those are for Ba'an!" Lukios sounded more distressed than he had all morning. "Damn it! Do you ever stop eating? Was your father a pig?" Mai'ra did not respond. She began gobbling the treats so quickly that Ba'an half-wondered how she managed to keep from choking.

Ba'an walked to Lukios and squatted. "It is too late now." She eyed the chunks of dried fruit and honey with longing. She should have eaten them immediately; now they were goat feed.

Ah, well. At least the nanny had gotten her treat and kept Arete away from Lukios, so perhaps all was well, after all; Mai'ra had been a good choice. Sometimes a little rudeness was necessary.

"Well," Arete said, "I hope you weren't looking forward to those. I don't think they're good anymore." She shook her head. "Adorable animal, but…a little on the hungry side. Is she yours, then?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Yes, I heard Sanders like goats. 'Mai'ra' was it?" Arete tilted her head and looked at the nanny. "How strange. I thought Sander goats were bigger? This one just looks like a normal goat. And she's so small! Charming. But small."

"We got her this morning." Lukios cut in. "And we should really get off the street. This is just…" He sighed. "Your dress is a mess now. Seriously. Don't tell me you're sorry the bandits didn't get me?"

Arete burst out laughing. "Don't be silly, Lukios. Papa won't kill you over a dress, though I suppose Leandros might. He's been in such a mood lately; you wouldn't believe it." She pouted. "And you got it dirty. That's rude. And to think! I had Ippodes drive day and night to meet you. This is hardly a proper greeting." Ba'an noted her pout was exceptionally fetching. The woman continued, "You should buy me a new one and make it up to me."

Everything about Arete was very fetching.

And aggravating.

Ba'an cleared her throat and gave Lukios a look, willing him to introduce her and end this silliness.

He did not.

"I got it dirty? Excuse me? I was minding my business. You jumped me. You're not putting this one on me. You're just not. And seriously, Arete, don't kiss me." He scowled right at her. "I'm touched you whipped your horses to exhaustion to see me, really, I am, but honestly? You really shouldn't have."

Arete looked astounded. "What's wrong with you?"

"Well, I got knocked over in the middle of the street and robbed by a goat. Now there's a noble lady sitting on my lap, whose father is a strategos." His glare got sharper. "And if anyone asks, there was no kissing involved. I like having my bits attached."

But Arete only snickered. "Sir Lion!" She struck him lightly with the palm of her hand, far more playfully than was appropriate, Ba'an was sure. "Are you instructing this lady to lie?" She shook her head and made a tsking sound. "An honest man would just marry me. To preserve my honour and all that, and to avoid getting stabbed by a strategos."

"I'm lucky, not honest. And sometimes lucky needs help. Now get off." Why did he continue to banter?

Arete laughed again, then wriggled so the rope moved with her. "I would love to, but this rope has other ideas."

Ba'an's temper flared, though she kept her tone even. "Enough. This is absurd. People are coming to gawk."

Lukios cleared his throat. "Uh…right. Sorry, lady Ba'an. Would you mind getting my knife from my pouch?"

…'Lady' Ba'an? Lady Ba'an?

"Already?" At his glare, Arete smiled widely and relented. "Oh, very well. I'll be as mannerly as a vestal: quiet, modest, and very boring. Happy?"

"Very." Lukios cleared his throat. "Lady Ba'an?"

Jaw tight, Ba'an yanked his pouch open and took his knife, then she stalked her way to where the rope was tightest and cut them free. She had to set the asphodel down to do it, but Ma'ra was safely distracted. Lukios kept trying to catch her eye, but she ignored him. 'Lady' Ba'an, indeed.

…But what had she been expecting?

From somewhere behind the gate, she heard Gaios' voice, gravelly with displeasure as he barked out orders. Lukios shrugged the rope off himself and glared at Arete until she stood, rolling her eyes. He reached over and grabbed Mai'ra, who was nearly done with her spree of gluttony; the goat bleated and resisted, hurriedly eating the last of the sweetmeats before she was yanked away. Her cheeks were so stuffed that she looked like a squirrel.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

There was a whirl of action as servants poured onto the streets, blocking the sight of their mistress from gawking commoners. Ba'an sensed Gaios walking out the gates toward them, and she knew that he was not at all pleased by what he was seeing.

"Well!" Arete sounded very jovial and satisfied. "What an adventure already, and it's not been a day!" She turned to Ba'an and smiled. "And Lukios, you haven't introduced us properly." Smiling widely, the woman took Ba'an's free hand in hers; Arete's hands were warm and soft, much more delicate than Ba'an's. Ba'an had spent the last five years cutting her own wood, fetching her own water, and beating her own rugs. Ba'an blinked, confused by this turn of events. Why was this woman touching her?

Arete only laughed merrily. Again. "Well, I'd kiss you in welcome, but I don't think that is how Sanders do it. Lukios has lost his manners somewhere, so I will introduce myself. Honestly, I don't know what goes on between his ears half the time, and I don't want to know. I'm sure I'd go quite mad. We ought to give you a laurel for putting up with him."

"That's real cute, Arete. Real damn cute."

"Of course I am. And I am also very pleased to meet you, lady Ba'an! Please, call me Arete."

"Lukios. Arete. What is the meaning of this?" Gaios strode forward, frowning. He was dressed in his usual way, but Ba'an noted that he had not shaved. Servants were already hustling forward to rearrange Arete's dress, and one of them put the shawl over her head and shoulders so it sat properly. Mai'ra, who had nowhere to go with Lukios' iron grip on her rope collar, looked up at Ba'an and baaa'd. She sounded quite put out, and Ba'an felt her mouth flick into a smile. She knelt and rubbed Mai'ra's ears, which the little goat liked very much. "Good girl, Mai'ra," Ba'an whispered. "I will give you another treat later. But you must behave now, yes?"

Lukios stood facing their host and cleared his throat. "Gaios! Well, we had a bit of a mishap." He laughed and patted Mai'ra with exaggerated fondness. "She's a little energetic. Don't worry, though, I'll have her in a stall, and she won't make another peep."

"'Mishap'? Still getting a lot of those, hm, Lion-man?" Ba'an blinked. She looked at Arete, then at the young man who had just spoken; eerily, she was suddenly reminded of Ash'a and Lu'kir, though Arete and her twin—or at least, that was Ba'an expected, based on their age and mannerisms—looked nothing like them.

"Leandros! Good to see you, too. Call me Lukios. Seriously." Ba'an noted the teeth beneath the friendliness: they were not fond of each other at all.

The man Lukios had called 'Leandros' walked up to his sister and waved the servants away. Ba'an noted that he had positioned himself so he was between Lukios and Arete, and he had done it so naturally and casually that it could not be called an insult—but it was. "Now how'd you get so filthy? I swear, Retty. I looked away for two seconds and here you are, wearing half the street. And is that goat hair?" He turned his face to Lukios, raising an eyebrow. "This is your fault, isn't it?"

"Enough." Gaios' formidable brows had drawn down. "This is a street, not a circus. Get inside, all of you. You're making spectacles of yourselves."

It was not possible to see past the living wall of servants, but Ba'an could guess that people were staring. She sensed they had stopped in their usual activities to gawk.

They walked into the compound, everyone going their own way. A gaggle of servants followed both Leandros and Arete, though only a handful trailed behind Gaios. Aika, oddly enough, appeared to be missing, though Ba'an was not sorry for it: the girl was lucky, having missed this entire, sordid mess.

Lukios released Mai'ra to a servant, and Ba'an paused to scratch her behind the ears, promising to visit later. Lukios called out, "To the stables, not the kitchens! She's not dinner!" Mai'ra looked over her shoulder and said the only thing she could say: baaaaa!

And that sounded truly miserable.

Ba'an frowned, and Lukios put his hand on the small of her back. "She'll be fin—Ba'an?"

She shoved the asphodel into his arms and slid away from his touch to walk through the courtyard now that it was clear. She had not wished to share the entrance or hallways with so many people at once. "I must wash before breakfast." She was dirty again, both from the market and from Mai'ra's antics. Her clothes were full of goat hair.

"Ba'an?" She heard him come up behind her, catching up quickly with his longer strides. Ba'an refused to look at him.

"Do you not mean 'lady Ba'an'?"

"What?" He sounded completely taken aback. How could he be surprised? Did he think she was stupid? "No. Ba'an, are you mad?" He was crowding her now, and she shoved him away.

"There are eyes and ears here. Do not forget your manners."

"What in the—Ba'an. It's not like that. It's…" He glanced around, then dropped his voice. "I'll explain later. But Ba'an, it's not like what you're thinking. It's just not."

She ignored his protests, opting to instruct him instead. "Your chambers are in the other direction, Lukios. Use another entrance. And you are filthy. Again."

"Ba'an." He reached out to grip her arms, but she simply shrugged his hands off her with a glare.

"You are behaving poorly, and the servants are watching. I am a secret, am I not? I will not be one for long if you continue this way, sir Lukios." So much for marriage. Did he wish to keep that a secret, too? Had this intention simply…slipped his mind?

"That's not it. Ba'an. Just—would you slow down and let me—Ba'an!"

"No. I am not interested, and you are filthy. I will see you at breakfast."

Lukios darted in front of her, blocking the entrance to the compound. She stared up at him incredulously. Was he eight?

"You are mad." His eyes had gone wide in his face, but Ba'an's expression was stone: it did not change. "Ba'an. Sweetheart. It's not what you're thinking."

"And what am I thinking, Lukios?"

"That I didn't introduce you to Arete and called you 'lady' 'cause I'm trying to hide you." He paused. "Okay, that is right, but not for the reason you're thinking." His eyes flicked around the courtyard and he whispered, "Is there anyone around?"

"Yes. As I have said, there are eyes and ears everywhere." And there was another familiar soul watching them, one that sounded cool and calm like water running beneath a bir-vuti. She switched to K'Avaari, all too aware of the servants who were pretending to be uninterested as they went about their day. "Your gifted friend is watching. From his window."

He grimaced, then responded, taking her cue. "Of course he is. That little…stit-tat. I will explain later, but not here." The pleading look he wore appeared sincere, and she could feel her resolve weaken.

"We shall see if I am in the mood to listen." There. Let him feel miserable over Arete, for once.

"Ba'an. I'm sorry. I didn't do it to upset you, I swear. And I was trying to avoid her. I tripped. I'm sorry."

"We will speak later, Lukios." She sighed. "And you are making a scene. If you wish to keep something from that woman, this is a poor way to do so."

"Just let me explain later." His jaw was set in that stubborn way it did when he was determined to get his way. Ba'an kept her irritation from her face.

"I said we will speak later, Lukios." Then she added, "The longer you stand there, the less likely that becomes."

He swallowed. "Okay. I'll go for now. But Ba'an, we'll talk later. I mean it. Don't…don't just run off, okay?"

Ba'an sighed again. "Lukios. Go."

"Promise you won't just run off."

"I will not 'run off.' Now go."

"Right. I'm going. You promised, remember! And we'll talk later, Ba'an. For sure."

He went. Ba'an did not watch him go, instead tilting her head up to glare at the man who was observing them from the second story. Nikias was still at his window, and he met her eyes without a hint of shame at being caught spying—well, why would he? He had sensed her as surely as she had sensed him. He had not been trying to be discreet at all.

Nikias tilted his head in a polite little nod.

Infuriating. That man was simply infuriating, but a witch did not display her feelings on her face. She simply did not; Ba'an turned her away and forced herself to slow and walk at a more staid and leisurely pace.

When Ba'an arrived at her room, it was empty. "Aika?" Strange. The girl was nowhere to be found; even a day ago she had been stalking Ba'an through the halls and gardens, sticking to the former witch's side like sap to a tree.

She undressed, grimacing at the mess on her fine clothes—clothes that Lukios had bought her.

Now alone, she sighed. The day had started so well, but…

Ba'an had half a mind to skip breakfast, but doing so would be unutterably rude. Gaios had opened his home to them and skipping breakfast to avoid his children was a level of impropriety to which she would not stoop.

But…seeing Lukios and Arete together had been…

…had been…

…deeply unpleasant.

It was not just their fine looks. If Lukios was the sun then Arete was the moon, and side-by-side they made such a fine pair that Ba'an could barely stand it, but it was not only that.

Arete sounded very much like Lukios when he was in the mood to joke. In fact, the joke about being tied up had been his—he had said so.

And they had sounded so familiar with each other. Arete knew things about Lukios that Ba'an did not; no doubt she had not only memorized his jokes.

And she was young.

And beautiful.

And rich.

And influential.

All things that Ba'an was not.

Ba'an did not think Arete would have eaten all of Lukios' crab.

She put her hand over her eyes and took a deep, deep breath, then held it before letting it out in a slow and steady stream.

Ba'an was being childish; she had already known that this would end someday. She had known this, and…it had not looked as if Arete would be a bad match. She could give Lukios things that Ba'an could not; she could give him allies. Powerful ones. Stability. Rank. Respect, which he surely would not get if he married a destitute Sander woman who did not even have a name-chain. What could she give him but grief? If not now, with the scorn of his peers, then later, with her early death.

She sighed again.

Ba'an was not only being childish. She was being remarkably selfish as well.

Enough. It was time to wash and go to breakfast.

Ba'an walked to her little washing bowl, then paused, puzzled; it was full of flowers. Red flowers. They were not bus'ka blooms, but they were close: their petals were larger, blooming widely and without restraint, as did many things in Illos. Their sweet scent had filled the room, though it was only now that she'd noticed. Ba'an reached out and touched a waxy petal, pleased by its soft, smooth texture. She dipped her head closer and sniffed.

They were beautiful, but...

...Why in Sa'nuvan's name were they in her washing bowl, and who had put them there?