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CHAPTER NINE

Atalanta

I stay quiet for most of my tour of Arkadia. Kahina
clearly doesn’t seem to be talkative either—paranoia lingers
at the fringe of my thoughts. Have I insulted her somehow?
Maybe I shouldn’t have asked her to be a handmaiden. I hardly
understand what that even means.
Arkadia is beautiful, in most aspects. The main palace is
modest, and much smaller than Meleager’s in Calydon. Still,
it glitters in a way that’s too similar to the temples of Delphi.
After a lifetime hunting in thick forests, the soaring, open sky
above me leaves me breathless. Mountains fringe the distance,
and straggling flowers shoot up in the grass and dirt. Rows of
olive trees line most of the flat, main area of the polis, though
they seem thin and fruitless.
My mind is at war against itself. Shock, lingering grief,
and nerves all fight for attention, but I keep my jaw clenched
shut. King Iasus—Father, I have to remind myself—traveled
for weeks to find me, and to bring me back. I can’t have him
think he made a mistake.
I cut a sidelong glance at Kahina as I lead us back to Father’s
palace. She keeps her brown eyes focused straight ahead, but
I get the sense that she knows I’m looking at her. I clear my
throat, but I’m not sure what to say—in my whole life, I’ve
hardly spent more than five or ten minutes in the company of
another woman. I want to speak to her, but I know I’ll mess it

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