““Come to me. I need you.” It wasn’t a sound, but a thought in his mind, put there by Apollo. A holy summons. Sinon rolled onto his back, folded his hands under his head, and stared at the ceiling, painted gray in the light filtering through the curtains hung around his pallet. It was never night in the Palace of the Sun, and he couldn’t sleep without the curtains. He sighed. We won the war, he thought. What trick of the gods made me a slave, then? I should have fought harder for my free...dom. It was a useless thought, which he nonetheless considered often. He rose, dressed, and went to Apollo’s bedchamber. One might have expected the place to be sumptuous, decadent. In fact, it was the opposite, simple and comfortable. This wasn’t where he entertained or impressed. This was where he lived. A table held cups and a pitcher, a pair of chests sat against a wall for storage, a wide pallet occupied a corner.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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