to read" meant he would cherish her, want the best for her, be her companion as
she came to know the world. Hyacinth was as sure of this as if he had sworn it to her. She
heard it in his warm tone, saw it in the smile on his face when he looked at her. And it filled
her with love for him.
He was the one for her. She just knew.
There was nothing to it, now, but to confess what she had been thinking. Until this moment,
the thought had stayed hidden in the back of her mind. Only now did she realize it had
been there all along. She angled herself away so she would not have to look at him directly.
"I'll be fourteen soon," she began, "and my father is holding a contest of athletic skill in order to choose a husband for me."
"Do you desire a husband?" he asked.
"No," she replied. "If I could choose my destiny, I would go serve Athena in her temple as a priestess. A priestess of Athena is taught to read the sacred stories of the gods and
goddesses. She serves a higher purpose than catering to her husband, as I will be forced to
do if I marry."
"Then I would never want to compete for your hand in marriage," he said.
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"But my father will not hear of me becoming a priestess," she clarified quickly. "And since I must marry, I would rather it be to someone with whom I am companionable. Marriage
could be an agreeable thing, perhaps, if one found a soul mate."
"A what?"
"I, too, heard the philosopher Socrates speak in the square once. He believes we are part
physical and mortal, and part soul, the part which lives on after death. I started thinking: If
one could find a mate with whom one might travel companionably through all time in love
and understanding, then ..."
She cut herself off, feeling foolish.
"Then what?" he prompted.
"Then a person might really find happiness."
"And you think this can happen through marriage?" he asked.
"With the right mate. If one is lucky."
Once again, their eyes met and something passed between them that she could not name.
It was attraction, yes, but also recognition. There was something in him that made her want
to stay beside him, to curl her head onto his chest with never the thought of leaving.
She stepped toward him but he broke the connection, tossing it away with a harsh laugh. "I
am a homeless scrounger," he reminded her.
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"I have a large dowry. My father is a wealthy importer and exporter of goods."
She could hardly believe these words were coming from her. How shameful to be begging a
complete stranger to vie for her hand in marriage! But all the young men who would come
to compete for her would be strangers as well, and some much older and not nearly as
good-looking. If she would be wed to a stranger, then let it be Artem -- Artem, whom she
barely knew but who did not feel like a stranger to her. She knew she'd be happy married to
this person she had felt she knew on that very first day when she'd spied him in the fish
market. Of course, it made no sense -- but there it was, just
the same.
He stood and waved her away. "No, I could never wed a siren."
"A what?"
He turned toward her. There was mischief in his eyes though his face was serious. "I have
heard you down by the ocean rocks, singing into the crashing surf."
"You have?"
"Yes," he replied. "And I believe you must be a siren, one of the magical half-fish women who drive sailors mad with their song. Surely you've read of it in the work of the poet
Homer?"
She had heard the tale told. She lifted her long, tan, linen skirt to reveal two sturdy legs. "No fish tail here," she said.
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"I see. Those are most assuredly legs," he said as he smiled and his eyes ran appreciatively up and down the length of her body. "Then, tell me, how do you come to sing so
enchantingly?"
Hyacinth was proud of her voice and it pleased her that she'd been overheard. Singing was
the only thing she had ever been allowed to study despite the fact that her two older
brothers were schooled in many subjects.
"I