Chapter Text
Mydei tries to remain solemn in front of Father, but it’s hard to when he drones on and on about how proud he is of Mydei, how he knew that from the moment Mydei was born that he was destined for greatness. He’s heard this speech more times than he can count growing up, and he’s frankly sick of it.
Mother tells him it’s Eurypon’s way of expressing fatherly affection. That he’d been dropped on the head as a baby and now he can’t even pull his son into a hug without fainting on the spot. Mydei can't even make fun of him, since he’s unfortunately inherited his stoicism.
Speaking of Mother, she isn't helping matters with Mydei’s current dilemma. Every once in a while, she makes faces from where she’s seated on the throne next to Eurypon’s, rolling her eyes and occasionally pointing at him with her thumb, ‘get a load of this crap’ written all over her.
It takes all of Mydei’s strength to fight the smile threatening to spread through his face.
Then he makes the mistake of glancing at the woman standing dutifully behind his mother’s throne. Hyacinthia stares back at him with dead eyes, her formal armor and fluffy helmet both unable to hide her exasperation.
Mydei’s eyes dart away, hastily focusing on Krateros standing at the empty spot next to his father’s throne. He’s glaring at Mydei, as if he’s aware of the thoughts running through his head. Mydei stares back coolly, and they have a stupid staring contest over Eurypon’s endless yapping.
When Krateros finally blinks his watery eyes, Mydei looks away smugly, only to make the same mistake he did earlier. This time, Hyacine has her hands over her own neck, and she throttles herself dramatically once she sees Mydei looking.
“Pfft.”
Silence falls over the throne room. Mydei dares not to look at the expression on Eurypon’s face for five seconds, but then raises his face defiantly. There’s a miffed look on his Father’s face, but it only makes Mydei’s smile grow.
“Is there something funny about my speech, Mydeimos?” Eurypon asks stiffly, but Mydei can hear the underlying offended shake in his voice. Mother does too, with the way she lays a supporting hand on her husband’s arm, shooting Mydei a fake, scolding look.
“Mydei, I know it’s nearly been an hour, but your father stayed up all night practicing for this speech,” she tells him gently, as if she hadn’t been fooling around too, “You can at least listen. Don’t the bags under his eyes move you?”
Ignoring Eurypon’s screeches of ‘Gorgo! Don’t tell him that!’ and ‘I don’t have bags under my eyes!’, Mydei bows gracefully from where he stands in the middle of the room. “Apologies, Mother. Of course I appreciate Father’s speech.”
“Then why laugh?” Eurypon demands, turning to him instantly.
Mydei points the finger at Hyacine, whose quiet snickers die the moment she’s under their scrutiny. “Father, she was the comedian. I was listening earnestly until I glanced at her. She made a funny face at your speech.”
Hyacine gasps, outraged.
“Prince Mydei is a lying liar that lies,” Hyacine tells Eurypon, making Krateros sigh tiredly. “Your Majesty, I was just so moved by your… affection for His Highness that I simply can’t help but tear up. I have no idea why Prince Mydei would find my appreciation funny… but perhaps he’s trying to imply he finds me unsightly.”
She sniffles, wiping away an imaginary tear. Mydei narrows his eyes at her while Mother giggles into her hand.
“Not even chimeras would believe that, Hyacine, and they’re as gullible as—”
“You?” She suggests sweetly.
“I am not gullible.”
“Then why is your name written on the ceiling?”
Mydei nearly looks up, but stops himself in time. He’s already fallen for this once. Krateros does, though, and his face twists when Mother cackles and breathlessly wipes her tears away. Eurypon decides to join the chaos when he stands dramatically to face Hyacine.
“Really?” Eurypon inquires, eyes shining. He lays a hand over his chest, touched. “Hyacinthia, sometimes I feel like you’re the only one on my side.”
“Am I merely chopped liver?” Krateros wonders wistfully. Everyone ignores him.
“Of course, Your Majesty. This humble one is always willing to serve the throne.”
“Don’t listen to her, Father. She’s neither humble nor always willing to serve—”
“You’re still upset about our last spar, aren’t you,” Hyacine guesses, and Mydei’s eye twitches.
“I am not,” he answers stiffly, like the lying liar that he was. Hyacine nods solemnly, though Mydei can spot the amused twinkle in her eyes, irking him greatly. He’s about to list all the reasons why Little Ica tripping him and subsequently giving her an opening to jab at him shouldn't have counted as her victory when Eurypon bellows.
“Silence! All of you!”
He shuts everyone up effectively, and they regain their composure. Mother straightens on her throne, stroking Little Ica’s hair from where she somehow remained asleep despite the noise. Hyacine’s face goes serious, and she resumes her attentive position behind Mother.
“As I was saying,” Father clears his throat. “Mydeimos is finally of age and ready to inherit the throne. But before that, he must undergo a trial to prove his mettle. I had gone through this before my time, and my father before me—”
Gorgo pokes him on the shoulder. “Get to the point, dear. I’m bored.”
Eurypon shoots her a pitiful look. “A-anyway, Mydeimos. Your task is to travel to the far lands of Aedes Elysiae and slay the dragon that continues to terrorize the kingdom. You must also do your duty as prince and rescue the holy maiden who is kept as a prisoner in a tower.”
“What if the maiden doesn't want to be rescued?”
Hyacine shrugs casually when everyone turns to her. “I just think it’s a bit egotistic, assuming that she’d want to be rescued by a prince. She could be hatching a plan to help herself for all we know.”
Their heads swivel back to Eurypon, who’s sweating bullets under Gorgo’s glare. Once upon a time, Gorgo had beaten Eurypon up for underestimating her just because she was a woman. He’s not stupid enough to make the same mistake. “O-of course, you first ask if your help is welcome.”
Mydei nods, itching to escape this circus. “Yes, Father.”
“As your mother, I worry about your safety,” Gorgo says, smiling at him. Mydei smiles back, assuring her that he’d be alright. Only, her next words wipe the smile off his face. “Thus, Hyacinthia will come with you on your journey.”
“What.”
“What?!”
“Doot doot!” Little Ica adds, finally having woken up. She lifts herself from Mother’s lap to fly around the room before finally landing on Mydei’s shoulder. He grunts, but quickly adjusts his stance to accommodate her.
“My lady,” Hyacine nearly whines, nose wrinkling. “Must I?”
“Oh, yes, you must,” Gorgo replies blithely, thoroughly entertained by their reactions.
“But… I am your attendant, Your Majesty, not Mydei’s.”
“Prince Mydeimos,” Krateros coughs.
“I find it amusing, Hyacinthia, that you don't seem to remember this fact whenever you and Mydeimos sneak out of the palace to play in the town market.”
Hyacine shuts up, shoulders drooping miserably. Mydei, however, refuses to admit defeat just yet. “Mother, I don’t need a babysitter. I am twenty-one winters old. I can slay a dragon by myself.”
Hyacine makes an aborted gesture behind Gorgo, looking like she very much wants to facepalm. Eurypon, on the other hand, puffs his chest proudly as he turns to his wife, which does not bode well for Mydei.
“Mydeimos is right, dear. Back in my day, I had done the journey myself and managed just fine. I’m sure our son will do better than I.”
Father siding with him on an argument with Mother was not good news. Mydei closes his eyes, resigned, as he waits for Gorgo to hand their asses back to them.
Surely enough, she does. “Eurypon, the fact that you remain unaware that you’ve been tailed by Krateros the entire quest makes me rather hesitant to trust your judgment,” Father’s jaw drops as he turns to Krateros in betrayal, “And Mydeimos—”
“I apologize, Mother,” Mydei blurts just as an argument between Father and Krateros erupts. “I should've known better than to overestimate myself. I submit myself to your wisdom.”
Gorgo nods, pleased. “It will do you good to remember that people rarely survive alone. You and Hyacinthia may leave now. I shall handle these two idiots.”
Mydei and Hyacine share an exasperated look before they flee the throne room, not looking back even as both Eurypon and Krateros draw their weapons.
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“What now?” Hyacine asks excitedly, cuddling Little Ica to her chest. She’s in a noticeably better mood now that she’s realized that being on this quest meant they were basically free to wander the world outside Castrum Kremnos, something both of them could rarely do, what with their duties as Crown Prince and the Queen’s Knight. “Should we play around for a few days? His Majesty never gave a deadline.”
“You are a terrible influence,” Mydei informs her dryly. “I heard there’s a flower festival three towns over.”
Hyacine eyes him shrewdly. “Let me guess, it just so happens that it’s on the way to the fallen kingdom of Aedes Elysiae?”
“Perhaps.”
Hyacine grins at him, shifting Little Ica to one arm and looping her arm with Mydei’s. “Then let’s go! The world is vast and life is fleeting. If we’re going to slay a dragon, might as well have fun while doing so.”
“Agreed. I’ve always wanted to see their gardens. I heard they're especially beautiful at this time of the year.”
“Doot doot!”
Gorgo and Eurypon stand on the balcony overlooking the entire kingdom, watching as their two children skip their way out of Castrum Kremnos’s outermost gates. “They aren't taking this seriously, are they?”
“Certainly not,” Gorgo snorts, eyes fond. “Only fools would.”
“I took it seriously,” Eurypon informs her, hoping for sympathy. Gorgo shrugs, then cracks a grin at the whimper that follows. She turns to him then, hooking her hand underneath his chin.
“Oh, Eurypon. Fool or not, I adore you,” She presses a kiss to his cheek, feeling the skin warm as a blush spreads. Then she hums thoughtfully, adding, “Though you certainly test my patience sometimes.”
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When Hyacine was seven, she emerged as the sole survivor of a bandit attack on the caravan she and her father had been tagging along with. Her father had been a healer, who had been hired to keep a sickly individual alive as the caravan traveled from city to city in search of a cure.
Unfortunately, a wave of bandits had ambushed them, killing everyone except little Hyacine, whom her father managed to hide in the small storage space underneath the patient’s makeshift bed.
Hyacine had been terrified out of her wits, but she was her dad’s good girl, so she kept quiet just like her father told her, curling into a ball as she waited for the loud hacking and the wet spattering sounds to finally die down.
She has no clue how long it lasted because she had fallen asleep, exhausted from how hard she wept. After all, as a healer’s child, she was no stranger to the concept of death. She knew that if she ever survived this, she wouldn't ever get to see her father again.
When she opened her eyes once more, she was warm and swaying, her shivering body bundled up in thick furs as she was sat on top of a moving body. She realized quickly that she was riding a dromas.
She panicked, wondering if the bandits had found her after all and decided to take her—as hostage, as spoils, she isn't sure—until a gentle hand stroked through her hair. She looked up with teary, terrified eyes.
That had been the first time she laid eyes on the Queen of Kremnos, who had stumbled upon the wreckage of the caravan, left to burn to ash once the bandits had been satisfied with looting the carriages. Gorgo had been on her way back from a diplomatic meeting in Okhema and had ordered her men to put out the fire and search for survivors.
“Hello, dear,” she whispered, her voice low and soothing. “You’re alright. It must’ve been scary, I’m sure, but you’re safe here with me. My name is Gorgo.”
Hyacine sniffled. “Gorgo? Like the Queen of Kremnos?”
She chuckled, her hand petting Hyacine’s short locks. “Indeed. I am her.”
Hyacine probably would've been more impressed with actually meeting a queen if not for the fact that she had survived something so terrible just recently. “They’re dead… aren’t they?” she asks, lips trembling.
Gorgo sighed. “I’m so sorry, love. You were the only one we found alive.”
Hyacine nodded, heart shattering. She thinks of her father’s smile as he hid her inside the compartment, the unshed tears in his eyes as he kissed her forehead one last time. She misses him already. “…I see. Thank you for rescuing me.”
She didn't notice how Gorgo frowned at her subdued expression, too occupied with hiding her sniffles and tears into her tunic. “Have some water, sweetheart. I’m sure your throat is parched.”
Hyacine accepted the waterskin, gulping it down quickly. She didn't realize how thirsty she was until Gorgo mentioned it. She nearly dropped the waterskin with how hard her hands shook, her mind raced as she wondered where she was going to go now.
Until Gorgo spoke once more. “Forgive me for asking, but are you perhaps related to Jacynthia?”
Her head snapped up, eyes wide. “I am her granddaughter, Your Majesty. I am Hyacinthia,” she hesitated. “You knew her?”
“Call me Gorgo, dear,” she said, then blinked. “Jacynthia had been a friend before she passed away. I was, ah, unaware that she had a granddaughter. I thought she only had a grandson.”
Hyacine nodded. “That’s me, Lady Gorgo.”
Realization dawned in Gorgo’s eyes, and Hyacine braced herself for the judging look that most people would give her when she revealed this fact, yet it didn't come. “Oh, I see. I apologize, Hyacinthia. I didn't mean to insinuate.”
“It’s okay,” Hyacine whispered, awed. “And um, Hyacine is fine. You don’t find it weird?”
Gorgo threw her head back, laughing heartily. “Weird? Of course not. Hey, Hyacine. Would you like to come back with me? I’d like to take you in as my knight.”
“A knight?” Hyacine’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. “But I don’t know how to fight.”
Gorgo grins down at her. “That’s fine. You and my son can learn together. I’m sure you two will get along really well.”
Hyacine thought about it. She had nowhere to go, now that her father was dead. Her grandmother passed away a year ago, and the two of them had been wandering as traveling healers instead. Queen Gorgo seemed so nice, plus she knew Jacynthia.
Hyacine took a deep breath, hope blooming in her chest. Life wasn’t as bleak as she thought it would be. “Okay.”
“Okay,” Gorgo echoed, and continued to stroke her hair. Hyacine fell asleep just like that, slumped on Gorgo’s side, a small smile on her tear-soaked face.
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“Lady Hyacine, will you be back next year?”
“To see a lady as beautiful as you?” Hyacine flirts back, winking. Mydei resists the urge to gag as he and Little Ica stand away from the hoard of ladies that’s followed them to the edge of the town. “I’ll certainly try.”
The woman giggles, staring at Hyacine with heart eyes. Mydei’s sister tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and smiles. He and Little Ica decide to squat at a nearby log, knowing from experience that this will take a long time.
Hyacine’s charisma has always been off the charts. She insists it's thanks to her experience as a wandering healer as a child, making her more extroverted than others. She flirts as easily as breathing, whereas Mydei can barely hold a conversation without accidentally offending the other party.
Mydei wishes he cared about his social skills—or the lack thereof, but he doesn't. It’s not a good quality for a prince, he admits, but he has no interest in romance outside of novels. He much prefers sparring and fooling around with Hyacine, traveling the world, and exploring its vastness.
“Not joining them, Your Highness?” A voice whispers in his ear and Mydei nearly jumps, his fists clenched in anticipation. He whirls around to see Viktor standing behind him. He raises his hands, grinning at Mydei’s reaction. “Woah, a bit jumpy, aren’t we?”
“Viktor,” Mydei stands, leaving Little Ica to snooze on the log. “What brings you here?”
Viktor smiles charmingly, dimples showing. He’s cute, Mydei muses, puppy-like and bright-eyed—exactly his type. “I’m hurt, my lord. After all the peril we’ve been through? The bonds we’ve forged?”
“I hardly think that sharing a drink counts as peril,” Mydei blurts. “Nor is it a particularly great bonding activity.” After all, Mydei spent most of their time together tipsy, the world hazy as he navigates it through the night. His memory is blurry at best.
“Ouch. You don’t pull punches, huh,” Viktor laughs, making Mydei blink in alarm, wondering if he’d managed to offend someone yet again. “But that’s fine. It’s what I like about you.”
“Oh,” Mydei flushes, his blush spreading across his cheeks. Perhaps Mydei had indulged too much the night before having been swept away by the festivities, and he’d done something he’s never done before: sharing a clandestine kiss with this boy. “I—last night was…”
He trails off, unsure of what to say. While he’d enjoyed their kiss, it’s not something he wants to pursue. He has a dragon to slay, and he needs all his faculties with him, he can’t and won’t leave his heart behind, not when he holds his and Hyacine and Little Ica’s lives in his hands.
Mydei’s unsure how to voice this without sounding like a complete asshole, but thankfully Viktor beats him to it.
“An experience? I know,” Viktor laughs, patting Mydei on the shoulder. “Princes and farmboys don’t mix, I am aware. Nevertheless, I came to tell you that I am honored that I got to share your first with you, and that I wish you luck on your journey.”
“Thank you,” Mydei says, flushing deeper, relief and guilt mixing. “I wish you all the best as well.”
Viktor smirks, amused. “Not much happens when you’re a farmboy.”
“Yet the people depend on your crops for sustenance. A bad harvest won't bode well for your town. Thus, I wish you all the best, and may your crops be free of plague.”
Viktor’s smirk turns into a genuine smile. He pulls out a flower crown and places it on Mydei’s head. “You really are too kind, Your Highness. And I was thinking that the nobility was full of stuck-ups and lazy bums.”
“Well, Mydei’s always been a rose among the thorns,” Hyacine cuts in, popping up out of nowhere. When Mydei looks over his shoulder, the crowd of lovestruck ladies has dispersed. “My apologies, Viktor, but we must leave if we are to make it to the next village by sundown.”
Viktor nods, stepping back. “Of course. Don’t let me hold you,” he says. “Thanks for coming to our festival. We hope you enjoyed your time here.”
Mydei waits for the interrogation as they traverse down the dirt road. Hyacine watches silently as Little Ica flits from flower to flower, inhaling everything that fits into her mouth.
“Love, huh?” She muses, tone wistful. “At least he was cute.”
Mydei clears his throat. “Hardly. We shared one kiss, that’s all.”
Hyacine turns to him, grin wicked. “Aww, Mydei, you’re growing up. It was just some time ago you were turning your nose up at kissing and courting, telling everyone who would listen that it was a waste of time.”
“Why kiss and court when you can train?” Mydei points out, a bit embarrassed. He still maintains the idea; the only reason he’s indulged in Viktor’s advances was his curiosity, perhaps, as to why everyone raved about it even in the deepest nights and hushed tones. He still thinks it’s not all that. “And you’re one to talk. You got at least ten ladies on your arm in the two days we’ve spent there.”
“It’s all in good fun,” she says cheerfully, a skip to her step. “Unlike you, I like messing around. I think people are fun, and the ladies I choose to spend the night with think it’s all fun too. It’s you I’m worried about.”
Mydei’s nose scrunches in offense. “Why? Because I’m not as experienced?”
She elbows him, then links their arms together. She’s a head shorter than Mydei, yet her grip is iron, the result of years of training under Mother’s tutelage. “No, it’s because you’re not the fun type of guy. If you fall, you fall deep. Isn’t that why you tried to run away from Viktor?”
“I didn’t run away,” Mydei protests. “I’ve never run away in my life. My memory of last night was vague. I thought I had only dreamt of it until Viktor confirmed it with me. The kiss meant nothing, I assure you.”
“I believe you,” Hyacine tells him, amused. “I’m only saying to tread lightly. Who knows, the next man you meet will be the love of your life.”
“I wish,” Mydei grumbles. “Oh, would you look at that. A clearing. Want to spar?”
Hyacine perks up, summoning her lance. It’s shaped almost like Gorgo’s favored lance, except the head is carved into a healer’s symbol. His sister is a conundrum; a healer and warrior all at once. She’s felled many men in battle, but has yet to take a life.
“You’re on.”
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Krateros was an awkward but kind man, Hyacine realized the moment they met. He kneeled in front of her, expression solemn as he listened to Gorgo’s explanations, what Hyacine’s presence meant to the royal family of Castrum Kremnos, and how she was to be treated.
Hyacine saw the sympathy in his eyes war with the worry. He asked Gorgo if she was certain about her decision, knowing Hyacine’s presence would invite rumors of illegitimacy. Gorgo’s brows rose as she asked about the resemblance Krateros observed.
“Well,” he coughed gruffly. “Her hair is pink.”
“Neither Eurypon nor I has pink hair, Krateros. If I am to adopt her as my ward, no one would bat an eye.”
“Genetics is strange, Your Majesty. You know how the… chatter works. Should they can find an inch, they’d take it a mile,” Krateros insisted. Hyacine should’ve been offended, but she got the sense that Krateros was worried about her, a child about to be thrust into Castrum Kremnos’s messy court politics once she’s recognized as the Queen’s ward.
She tugged at his tunic, forcing him to look at her. She gave him a bright smile. “There’s no need for worry, Sir Krateros. I may be young, but I am aware of my lineage. Should they insist on the gossip, then not only do they insult Her Majesty but also my grandmother, Jacynthia.”
Her father taught her well before he passed on. Drilled into her every piece of information she needed to know, and who and when to use them on, just in case they were separated in their travels. Wandering healers are rare, and the world was full of the ailing. They were coveted for a reason.
“Jacnythia?!” Krateros gasped. “Your Majesty, she’s—”
“Exactly,” Gorgo cut him off firmly. “Like Hyacine said, there’s no need to worry. Jacynthia was my friend, and her reputation was irrefutable.”
Krateros bowed, conceding. “Of course, forgive me for overstepping, my lady.”
“Never mind that,” she waved him off. “Where is Mydeimos? I’d like to introduce them.”
Krateros visibly hesitated at this. “Your Majesty… Prince Mydeimos is upset right now. While His Majesty and I were away busy with a meeting, his nanny overstepped and… insisted that the prince simply had an overactive imagination.”
“I beg your pardon?” Hyacine flinched at her thunderous tone, and she looked up at Gorgo’s tight face, her eyes cold and face pinched with fury. She was immediately soothed when Gorgo sensed her fright and dropped a gentle hand on her hair. “I hope my dear husband had the presence of mind to punish her.”
Krateros bowed once more. “He did. She was…” his eyes flicked to Hyacine, “executed yesterday; the moment His Majesty found out about her transgression.”
“Good,” Gorgo pivoted sharply, gesturing for Hyacine to follow her. She did, running as she struggled to keep up. “I leave for a few days and this happened. What, did Eurypon lose his competence the moment I left his sight?”
Krateros didn’t answer, back still bowed. Gorgo took Hyacine’s hand in hers and didn't look back, leaving Krateros bowing as she had yet to dismiss him. Hyacine frowned, but didn't comment. From what she understood, her… brother? was hurt, and Krateros and King Eurypon failed to protect him.
Gorgo led her down passages, the servants jumping out of their Queen’s way, probably having read the fury on her face. The crowd thinned as they walked, and eventually they reached a set of empty hallways, birdsong drifting through the large open windows.
When Gorgo opened the doors to Mydeimos’s chambers, Hyacine’s eyes instantly fell on the lump on the wide bed. The queen’s footsteps slowed, and the click of her sandals turned gentle as she approached the bed.
“Mydeimos…” Gorgo trailed off as she sat on the edge. “It’s mother. Oh, my darling boy, I’m so sorry for not being here with you.”
The lump on the bed vibrated before an orange blur burst through the blankets and tackled Gorgo, burying his face into her chest. Hyacine perked up when she heard the sniffling, and she approached the bed hesitantly, the sobbing triggering something in her.
Crying patients weren’t a new thing. It had been Hyacine’s job to hold their hand and soothe their sting by singing or smiling down at them.
As Mydeimos wept, Hyacine gingerly sat next to Gorgo, who smiled at her encouragingly. Carefully, she patted his head, running her hand through waist-length locks that matched Gorgo’s. “You’re alright… It’s okay, the hurt will pass.”
Mydeimos stiffened, his sobs tapering off abruptly. He sniffled, taking his face out of Gorgo’s chest to stare at her. His eyes are as golden as his mother’s, she noted. It seemed like he was his mother’s copy.
“Who are you?” he asked, tone suspicious.
Hyacine bowed her head. “I’m Hyacine. I am Her Majesty’s newest knight.”
The suspicion is replaced with interest. “You can fight? What weapon do you use?”
Hyacine shook her head quickly. “Um, I can’t fight yet. Lady Gorgo said she’d teach me,” when Mydeimos’s face dropped in disappointment, she added, “But, um, I’ve used a wand before! It’s a healer’s wand! My dad was a healer, and I helped him a lot before, so I’ve whacked stubborn patients!”
Mydeimos brightened, and he nearly crawled out of his mother’s lap to face her. Gorgo was quiet, watching them silently with a knowing smile. “Really? Did it hurt?”
“Um,” Hyacine thought about it, a finger on her lip. “I think so? The patients say ouch! and they go back to bed instead of running away!”
Mydeimos giggled, and Hyacine was unsure if he found the image of adults yelping amusing or if it was the idea of violence that had him giddy. “That’s really cool!”
Hyacine nodded enthusiastically as warmth bloomed in her chest. She held her hand out for Mydeimos to shake. Though she was sure that this wasn't proper etiquette, she had a feeling Gorgo wouldn't mind. “Nice to meet you! Lady Gorgo said we’ll be learning combat together.”
Mydeimos took her hand, face glowing. He truly was Castrum Kremnos’s prince. Hyacine had the feeling he’d be a great warrior when they grew up. “Nice to meet you too. I am Mydeimos.”
Suddenly, he scowled as if remembering something. Unsure, he let go and bit his lip but seemed to find his resolve as he looked back up at Hyacine with blazing eyes. “And I am a prince.”
Hyacine noted the strange emphasis. “Yes.”
But this only seemed to upset Mydeimos more. “I am a prince. Not a princess.”
Not a prin—Oh. Hyacine’s eyes flicked to Gorgo, who gave her a cheeky wink. So this was what she meant when she said Hyacine and Mydeimos would get along well. She hadn't thought she would met someone like her this soon, but happiness suffused her anyway.
“I understand, Prince Mydeimos,” she beamed at him. “People used to think I was a boy all the time until I told them I was a girl.”
Mydeimos stared at her wide eyes as she went on, “They mocked me a lot at first, but my father is—was always there to yell at them when they were being too mean. I only just wanted to wear dresses, and I want my hair to be long too!”
Hyacine nodded solemnly at the realization dawning in Mydeimos’s eyes. “I want pigtails.”
Mydeimos grabbed her hand, no longer upset and even looking excited. He glanced at Gorgo, who smiled at him and gave him a fond nod. The confirmation only bolstered him, and he turned back to Hyacine. “I have a lot of dresses, but I don't really want them. Would you like them?”
Shy and a bit embarrassed, Hyacine nodded, and Mydeimos beamed at her. He jumped off the bed, taking her with him. He dragged her to his closet, listing off the garments he claimed he hated.
“I like skirts, but I don't like them when they're too girly,” Mydeimos informed her as they dug through the closet. “People don’t take me seriously when I tell them I’m a boy while I wear them.”
Hyacine nodded solemnly. “The same thing happened with me.”
When Gorgo slipped out of the room, they didn’t notice, too preoccupied with each other and their budding friendship. A tear slipped from her eyes as she basked in the knowledge that her children would be able to heal each other’s hurts slowly but surely.
“Prince Mydeimos—”
“Call me Mydei. Since you’re Mama’s knight, you're like my sister anyway.”
“Okay, Mydei!”