I refused my eyes to dance all over her when she thought about what I said. It was bewildering how she wasn't getting the clue in one go.

With every passing moment, I fought to keep my distance from her. Holding a steady smile because Lord knows if she'd be terrified of me again.

But even after thinking this long, all that came out was her blissful ignorance, "Yes, Caspara told it too," she tilted her head in thought, "That someone needs to stay with the King," she exclaimed as if remembering it all of a sudden, "She said she wouldn't stay long and return to the palace-"

"Do you think I love her?" I interjected her.

The way she always talked about Caspara as if she was my soulmate was disturbing. I needed to know why she thought so highly of the concubine.

"She, um… she is your… favourite concubine…" she mumbled innocently.

I exhaled. Caspara, being Persian, had a greater chance of getting bullied by the palace people. But it looked like being extra polite to these women took a toll on them.

"Isn't she?" she poked in again.

I shook my head in disapproval. Would I ever kiss you like that if I loved someone else?

"The concubines… used to say so," she gulped when I just looked at her.

A snicker escaped me. "Along with food, they know how to cook words too. You shouldn't eat the latter." I smiled.

She lowered her gaze in sheepishness. The timid smile on her face made her look a mix of blushing and sadness.

Was she insecure about something? Maybe she has never been loved by someone…

My fist clenched at the thought. At the very thought if someone did something to her that she was reluctant this way. Even with a King with whom she had no one to fear.

"You want to attend the marriage procession?" I asked softly. God, did I want her to stay, but I couldn't bring it in myself to coerce her. It felt like caging a bird who would happily sit on my shoulder.

I'd assumed she would agree in a heartbeat. Instead, she fiddled with the golden cloth draped at one side of her shoulder, eyes dwindling.

"Y- You wanted me to do… something?"

The faint eagerness on her part was enough to wake my wilted heart. "I had a quick dinner because I wanted to have something else." I sucked in a quiet breath when my eyes fell over her bare waist again.

How would it feel like moving my lips over those-

When she appeared to think if there was a guest with whom I wanted to dine, I broke into a smile, "Only for me." Fuck my thoughts.

She stared for a while, her face slowly brightening up, "But it won't be the fish fingers," she giggled, "something else."

That only resulted in a more atrocious fantasy occurring to me. Might as well be good if Zeus hits my head with his lighting bolt to purify it somewhat.

I officially felt pathetic when I saw the smiling innocence on her face. She may not be innocent but the way she carried herself, so pristine and so damn opposite to what went through my head.

God, purify yourself, Julian, for her sake. I managed to give her a smile.

"Isn't it the same roof you use to… throw culprits down for the lions?" she faltered in her steps when I brought her to the highest section of the palace. A place which I'd restricted even for the palace dwellers, for this was the area where my spies would deliver their findings to me. I didn't trust anybody with sensitive information except a few of my warriors.

The guards guarding the rooftop had left, as I'd directed. "That roof is on the other side," I chuckled. She looked around the burning fire torches at the corners. Pillars with intricate carvings lined the adjacent sides of this vast roof. The tiny circular mirrors adorned over them looked like reflecting a thousand moons on this windy night.

Althea ran her fingertips over them, tracing back the view of the moon to the dark sky, glittering with endless strings of stars.

From the way the moonlight was washing over her, it seemed she was one of those stars, plucked by me to be kept in my palace… forever.

The cool breeze from the sea nearby glided past us, ruffling up my hair. In any situation, I would've closed my eyes to sink in the feel, but this time, I didn't.

Because I didn't want to skip a single moment where I couldn't see her.

It felt like forever that she had her head craned up to view the sky. Capturing it in her memory. As if she could never see such a thing again.

"You'll hurt your neck, Mila." I walked behind her, placing a hand over the back of her neck to massage gently.

Her head lolled a little in comfort as her eyes closed off. When her arm brushed mine but began to drift away, I caught her hand. Held them in my tightest grip.

"There's a more… comfortable way to see them." I skimmed my lips by the side of her neck, holding in only so much not to lick her.

She smelled like a fresh oasis in an endless desert. An oasis in which I wanted to swim.

"Aren't you hungry, Julian?" she whispered, amusement in her voice as she gave me a slight push before rushing off to the ingredients.

For a moment, it felt as if she read my thoughts. I shook my head, a devious grin coming up to me. It was madness how I was getting addicted to this slow build-up of sensations with her. Taking so much patience on my part as opposed to my naturally explicit move, the end was always rewarding.

I walked to where she was arranging the various items which were already placed by the servants. Settling on one of the stone blocks near her, I inspected the things.

Various types of herbs, vegetables and flour were bought in along with other cookware. It was confusing why she'd asked for such an amount of cheese. Both Egyptian and Greek assortment.

"I never knew there were ovens constructed on the roof," she mused, looking at another corner where a narrow path gave way to a square complex comprising several brick-mud ovens. I had already ordered one of them to be lit when she told me she would use them.

"Hm, you must've used the ones constructed near the forest?" I asked. She nodded, beaming as she began to crush some tomatoes and chillies in the mortar and pestle. I wanted to say something different, like, I never knew you'd look sexy even with that cute face of yours, but stopped. I wanted her to keep talking, not sit in awkward silence.

"Do you know, back home, I would use a mixer grinder for making these," she giggled.

"What's that?" I asked, bending forward to grab a corn that lay in the basket.

"You just need to put the stuff in, and it will mix for you." she smiled. Almost as if she knew I wouldn't understand.

"But grinding it like this is also fun," she snickered, going for the flour now. "Never knew I'd try so many things…" she whispered.

Maybe she really was from a different world. Where things could grind on their own. Maybe where clothes can wash themselves and people travel through the air as we do from the water?

"What else do you find… different here?" I asked cautiously.

"Washing clothes!" she exclaimed, applying the paste on the flattened dough now. "Just like the mixer grinder, we have washing mac- uh… washing… equipment! You put your clothes in and it would… wash for you." She bit her lip, quickly chopping some onions to distract herself as if realising she'd gone too far.

I forced a smile because I'd started to sweat at the mention of clothes washing on their own. Oh Lord, can she read my thoughts?

Trying to divert from that topic, I asked, "Who taught you to… dance like that?" I chuckled darkly as I remembered the way she was moving to the music that night.

The tip of her ears turned red, "Uhm… my- my sister, Lola," she said slowly, doing something with the cheese now, "She was in the training session for ancient wom- wo- woops!" The piece of cheese slipped from her hand as she quickly picked it back, resuming her work.

"Training session for ancient… women?" I completed it for her when she became too focused on grating the cheese.

"A- Ancient womanly dances," she nodded with a straight face, sprinkling mixed herbs. "They said a concubine must know how to do everything, so she learnt… dances too, and I… learnt with her."

"Did you dance for anyone before?" My voice turned grim.

"No," she frowned, "and I wouldn't have danced ever if it wasn't for Lola giving a surprise to Helaine," she grumbled. "Uh… how did you know… I danced though?"

"I saw from the upper gallery," I whispered, wondering if she'd ever dance again if I asked.

She paused, staring at the dish. I knew it would taste delicious, but right now it looked like a mess.

I hope she doesn't listen to my thoughts.

When she was still staring down, barely able to digest the fact that I saw her that night, I rested my hands on my knees, leaning to her ear. "What happened, Althea Rosemary?"

I closed my eyes as her rare fragrance took me in a trance. It was deeply sweet. Nothing like the perfume women wore.

"T- The dish happened!" she exclaimed, eyes widened upon finding my face so close to hers. "It- It um… oven."

I snickered, raising to lead her to the other section of the roof.

Carefully, I placed the mess of cheese, vegetables and dough inside, making sure she was away from the huge heated brick oven.

"I- uh… please tell me if you… don't like it," she mumbled behind me.

I glanced at her, placing the long wooden ladle by the side. "Why wouldn't I like it?" I laughed.

"It… probably looks like… a mess of cheese and vegetables to you… no?" she gave a hearty laugh, embarrassed almost.

Oh shit, wow.

She had her hands folded behind her, aimlessly looking at the pillared roof we'd left. "What's that?" she craned her neck eagerly at a tent-like thing by one corner.

"A surprise." The thought of it thrilled me, but I suppressed it in a tight smile, holding her hand again. "Not to be opened now," I whispered in her ear. When in fact I wanted to reveal it right at this moment.

I led her back to the roof. Walking behind her, I placed my hands on her shoulders, taking her near the roof's frontal ridge.

As soon as the scenery came into her view, her mouth fell open. I placed my hands on either side of her on the marble slab.

"Marriage procession," I said, bringing my face next to hers to look ahead, as she stood star-struck at the view.

Fire torches lined the path from the palace to Jakov's home, looking like fireflies in a queue from this height. Hundreds of people for the marriage procession were moving in a single path. Most of the light was now congregated in the distance, appearing like a lake of bright light in the night.

"This is so beautiful…" she whispered out, childlike fancy on her face. Nearby, the houses were sleeping in peaceful silence as the night grew in. So did my longing for this mythical woman in my arms.

"Althea…" I neared my mouth to her ear. "I think you've come from a different world…"

Her back stiffened. Gradually, I intertwined my fingers with hers. Unsure she held onto them, letting my thumb guide along her wrist.

"A human cannot possess such talents… and perseverance. Not of this world," I admitted.

Unlike other women who'd rather boast about a king favouring them, Althea was feeble. With the way we went along, it was clear she did enjoy my company. But she always appeared to conceal the very idea from others. Having no issues seeing me with another woman. Neither jealousy nor running after riches were in her traits.

There was no way she could be a normal human.

"What do you think… I am?" she asked softly, her body going pliant in front of me.

"Nymph," I looked at her quietened face, tranquilly lowered, "A beautifully intelligent nymph." I rested my forehead against her shoulder. I was tired.

It was like I knew everything and nothing about her at the same time.

Silence came by. The sound of soft winds being the only thing audible until her sighing voice broke it, "Maybe… you are right," she gave a small laugh, "Maybe… I'm a nymph, sent by the Gods.

"The intelligent gods," she uttered, looking up at the sky.

I didn't know why I felt a chill run through me.

"Intelligent because… there's nothing, they don't know," she continued in a hauntingly calm voice, "They are always exploring, learning long-forgotten things, because they are… curious," she sucked in a breath of the cool night air.

"They only have the hunger of knowledge, the Intelligent Gods."

I didn't want her to stop. I started breathing quieter so it wouldn't take her out of the possessed-like state she'd gone into.

"They know what lies in the… deepest parts of Earth… what lies beyond the Earth, beyond the very sky… past birds and clouds…

"They know how it's like to… walk on the Moon. How huge… the Sun is. How there are other planets… but so different from the Earth.

"Maybe…" she gave a humourless laugh, "They wanted to know something… different," her shoulders rose and fell, "Maybe they sent a nymph, asking her to write about something… that no one knew of…" she continued, as if shedding the layers of her identity.

"And maybe, she found you." I could hear the smile in her voice.

I was transfixed by her cryptic yet so fascinating revelations. It was like she knew the secrets of this world at her fingertips.

"Maybe?" I chuckled, burying my nose deeper into her neck to take in her scent, "Everything's starting with a maybe, Mila," I murmured against her skin.

She shivered, her neck aligning on its own to make space, "Hmm, because you think that… maybe I'm a nymph, and maybe I'm not of this world- ah, Julian," she whimpered when I bit her gently.

"Gods love nymphs," I whispered, tightening my grip on her. In a sick way, wanting to crush her against me, she felt so soft, "Do you know what they do, when they send the nymphs on Earth?" I chuckled.

"They reward mortals like me, who keep the nymph pleased," she gasped at the very thought I was painting in her head.

Swiftly, I turned her around, amused to see the way her face reddened. Her eyes flickering in and out, trying to come out of the high I'd raised her to.

"What if… the Gods would call me back once I've written… everything?" she tilted her gaze up to me.

My fingers were digging into her palm as I placed them on the slab behind her. "What if I don't let you go," I taunted.

"Maybe they'll… transport me back… by their powers?" she implied, "Gods are powerful."

This was getting interesting. "Maybe I'll come with you," I smirked.

"Maybe you can't… enter t- that world," she said all too suddenly, misery casting over her eyes.

Whatever she spoke was believable, yet so unbelievable.

"In that case…" I closed in on her, lowering my face to her eyes, "I'll have no problem keeping you tied to my bed," I held her face, "To hide you from those Gods."

Beneath my fingers, her cheeks began to heat rapidly. Like a fire spreading in a dry forest.

"Barbarian," she mumbled, narrowing her eyes. But the next instant, she looked around, sniffing the air.

"Oh no, it could not burn!" she yelped and pushed me, before running off to the oven complex. Guffawing, I followed her.

Such an intelligent being she was, finding ways to push me when she couldn't resist the pull. I wasn't a fool to not know what a burnt dish smelled like.

It looked less of a mess when the cheese had melted over the vegetables. After taking out the dish which had obviously not burnt, we sat on the fleece carpet spread in the centre of the roof. Eagerly, she cut the flat pie-like thing into pieces.

"Hmm, can you guess what is it?" she grinned, placing the pieces over my plate.

"It looks like a…" I scratched my jaw, "vegetable pie."

"Wow, that's a perfect answer on your part," she wondered aloud. Intrigued, I took one bite, the cheese on the top stretching in the process.

One bite in, and I halted to look down at the delicacy, my mouth still working. I'd thought it would taste like the usual vegetable pie, but it wasn't.

Instead, it tasted like a developed version of the pie, the topping of herbs, baked vegetables and cheese so savoury, I closed my eyes to relish in the taste.

Goodness, for heaven's sake, what was it?

Althea sat staring across from me. A piece in her hand too, but her eyes were fixated on me, my expressions. I finished mine in no time and shifted beside her.

"You should've told me if you didn't want to eat yourself." I leaned in, taking the piece from her hand. "You just have to ask me to feed you."

Under the faint light from the fire torches, her face flushed. "Uh… w- what I-"

"Now open your mouth and say aa," I iterated.

"Julian, it's alright mhm-" I put the piece in her mouth, a wide smile on my face to see her childish expression.

"So what do you call it?" I laughed as I helped myself to more pieces of this cheesy delicacy.

"It's pizza," she giggled.

I raised my head to her, perplexed. "Pee- what?" I cleared my throat, eating midway, "Pee za?"

She sputtered a laugh, gulping the remaining piece in a cough before she was full-on laughing.

"Oh God, you make it sound so… so," she wasn't able to help it, "pizza, it's pizza." She was still trying to hide the little snickers when I gave her a look.

I took a deep breath. "Alright, I'll try again. Peeh za?" I asked.

She shook her head, suppressing another laugh. "Say it quickly. Pizza!"

"Peeza!"

"No pizza!"

"Pieza!"

"Julian, pizza!"

"Pizza!" we said together, and the next moment, burst out laughing. It sounded like the Greek flatbread pita.

The night dwelled on, so did our laughter at silly things.

"And we Greeks invented the pie pastries, too," I grinned, feeding her the remaining pieces. In the view of laughing so much, with her barely able to breathe, I'd pulled her against me. After a couple of no's and buts, she had no issues with me feeding her.

I never fed a woman before, but feeding her was sheer joy.

God, if she'd ask me to feed her every day, I wouldn't even deny it.

She hummed a smile, probably exhausted at last. "Ancient Greeks and Egyptians were incredible. I love them so much."

"Ancient?" I chuckled, "And you don't like the present ones?"

"Ah, y- yeah I do," she stuttered. "I love everyone! I never ate the pie pastry though, did you?" She looked up at me with a hopeful smile.

"Of course I did. All the time when I was small," I smiled at the memory of my mother baking them and how my sister always wanted more than me, even if she couldn't finish it all.

"The ones made in Greece are the best. We'll eat it once we go there. Hmm?" I asked.

She got all excited, but soon her shoulders fell.

"Julian," she started, the humour gone from her voice, "Have you ever thought about… like… Will you appoint… another court writer if I die?"

"Who's saying you are dying?" I demanded.