Page 57 of Crown of Serpents

Andromeda caught the pouch, unsure how to respond. Her upbringing demanded politeness, but Kleos seemed to bring out a rebellious streak in her.

She hesitated, the coins heavy in her palm. While no one here knew her face, her rich brown skin marked her as an outsider. What if someone asked questions?

As if reading her mind, Kleos handed her a saffron linen shawl. Andromeda accepted it silently, her fingers tracing the delicate purple embroidery.

“I bought this for you at the market,” he stammered, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. “I thought ... you know, in case you're worried about being recognised.”

“Thanks,” Andromeda mumbled, averting her gaze when his face lit up at her response.

“Anytime, Princess,” he chuckled, his usual swagger returning.

A newfound excitement bubbled within her as she wrapped the shawl around her shoulders, hiding her face in its shadows. She hadn’t realised how much she longed to explore this foreign town. A nagging voice whispered warnings of the risks, but she pushed it aside. Taking a hesitant step toward the buttery sunlight streaming through the doorway, dancing around Kleos’s broad form. He moved to let her pass, and Andromeda stepped into the warmth. She turned back to find Kleos still lingering.

“C—could I accompany you to the market, though?” he asked, hope shimmering in his eyes, making him seem almost boyish.

Before she could overthink it, she sighed, “Fine, you can come.”

Kleos's grin widened, and he hurried to her side, offering his arm. She accepted it but rolled her eyes for good measure.

When he helped her down the wooden ladder and onto the pier, Andromeda suddenly stopped. “Wait, if you went to the market already to buy the shawl … why didn’t you get a new dress as well?”

He shrugged. “Because I wanted you to see the town. It’s a quaint place.”

She sensed he was not telling the whole truth, but she didn’t protest when Kleos looped his arm through hers, guiding her into the winding streets.

They entered the winding streets, lined with whitewashed houses basking in the sun's embrace. The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the air, and Andromeda craned her neck to peek into workshops where blacksmiths hammered and potters sculpted, their creations adorned with the heroes of Greek mythology. A genuine smile bloomed on her lips. This townwasbeautiful.

…

Andromeda stepped onto the market square in her new dress. It was held at the shoulders with bronze pins and had a simple belt. The Greeks called this type of garment a peplos, the olive-skinned vendor had informed her while making moony eyes at Kleos’s golden hair.

Kleos trailed behind, his arms laden with two more dresses, waving the young man goodbye with a mischievous wink. Apparently, his incessant flirting was not only reserved for her, Andromeda noted with some bitterness.

“Why did you get those?” Andromeda snapped, her tone harsher than intended.

He chuckled, “So, you can wash yours, of course. Plus, you overpaid. That pouch of drachmae could have gotten you fivedresses. You have to haggle here, Princess.”

Andromeda’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Instead of teasing her like he usually did, Kleos nudged her gently. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not good with money either — much to my father's dismay.” A shadow flickered across his face, then vanished as quickly as it had come. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

Before Andromeda could protest, he pulled her along, taking her slender fingers in his rough hand. They left the shadowy columns of the agora and walked through winding streets toward the edge of town, a pine forest looming ahead. Turning down a side path, they entered a hidden orchard.

Andromeda gasped, entranced by the fragrant oasis. Sunlight dappled through the leaves of olive and citrus trees, their branches heavy with ripening fruit. The scent of lavender and thyme filled the air, mingling with the sweet perfume of orange blossoms. She reached out, gently touching a plump fig.

Kleos watched her, his usual boisterousness replaced by a quiet attentiveness. “I thought you might like to explore the garden,” he said softly. “Pick some fruit, gather some herbs.”

She returned his gaze, searching for an answer in his friendly eyes. He was so different when it was just the two of them, and there were no drunk soldiers around to brawl and joke with. “How did you know I liked gardening?”

“I may have overheard you and Medusa talk.”

“You’re impossible,” Andromeda rolled her eyes even though she wasn’t annoyed.

Not when a soft breeze made the leaves above her head rustle, spreading the citrus scent through the orchard. She felt the same peace fill her up that she had felt during those stolen mornings at the temple.

“I apologise, Princess,” Kleos responded with a bow at the waist, though the mischief in his eyes told her he was not the least bit sorry.

They strolled through the garden, which was empty save for a young girl helping her grandmother gather figs.

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