Free Styxx (DH #33) by Sherrilyn Kenyon Page B

Styxx set his greaves and shoes on their shelf then removed his red practice chiton. He folded it and placed it next to them.
    Turning, he caught the fierce scowl on Galen’s face as he stared at Styxx’s bare side.
    He glanced down to see the red and purple bruises along his ribs and over his chest that were already forming where the older man had kicked him after he’d fallen. And that wasn’t counting his other, faded bruises from things he would rather forget.
    Galen lifted his gaze to Styxx’s. “Did I ever tell you about the first time I fought in battle, Highness?”
    Styxx quickly washed himself off in the large basin of water. “No, sir.”
    Galen took a deep breath as Styxx toweled himself dry then pulled on his chiton and fastened a belt around it. “I was so scared that I soiled my armor. It slickened the stones so that when my commanding officer went to attack the enemy, he slipped and fell on it.”
    Aghast, Styxx stared at him. He wanted to laugh, but didn’t dare.
    “He was so angry that after battle, he had me given twenty lashes for it.”
    Styxx wasn’t sure how to react to that. He was both amused and horrified. And the last thing he wanted to do was offend the man who routinely beat the crap out of him.
    Galen handed Styxx his royal chlamys. “What I’m trying to tell you, Highness, is that all men, no matter how well trained or brave, have moments of profound fear. No man should ever be judged for the one and only time he throws his sword down to protect himself when he’s facing a much larger and more ferocious opponent. Rather he should be seen for all the times he doesn’t.”
    He inclined his head respectfully to Styxx. “Even though I have retired and swore I’d never war again, I would be honored to ride by your side into battle, young prince, and to fight beneath your banner. Even if we had to fight this day.” His gray gaze intensified. “I no longer see the boy you are, but rather the man you will one day be.… And that man will be fierce indeed.”
    That was the kindest thing anyone had ever said to him. “Thank you, Master Galen.”
    Striking his fist to his shoulder, Galen saluted him. “Take heart, good prince. One day the king will see in you what I do.”
    He appreciated the words, but he knew better. His father would never see him as anything other than a horrendous mistake. “Again, thank you.”
    Galen offered him a tight-lipped smile. “Rest well tonight, Highness. Tomorrow I shall not take mercy on you.”
    “I look forward to it,” he said sarcastically.
    Galen’s laughter followed him out of the building.
    Sighing in sudden dread of his duties to come, Styxx headed up the hill to the palace with his guards trailing in his wake. Since they were such a permanent fixture of his life, most of the time he didn’t even notice them.
    Not until their thoughts overrode his, anyway. Gods, how he hated the voices that gave him no quarter.
    Without stopping, he entered the palace and went to his room to retrieve his mother’s birthday gift from his chest by the window. He paused as he accidentally uncovered Acheron’s wooden horse. Pain hit him hard as unshed tears choked him.
    How he missed his brother. There wasn’t an hour in the day that he didn’t wonder what was happening to Acheron. If he was well and happy.
    Trying his best not to think about something he couldn’t change, he wrapped the horse back in its cloth and retrieved the gold bracelet he’d bought for his mother. It’d taken him three months to save up the money for it.
    Because his father wanted him to appreciate what it took for their citizens to make a living, Styxx wasn’t given a stipend like other noblemen. Rather, he was required to donate labor to the temple priests and record keepers. And, if he really made his father angry, the stable master who hated him passionately. His father paid him an hourly wage for his work, provided the ones he worked for spoke highly of his labor. That was