Chereads / Mediterranean hegemon / Chapter 33 - chapter 33 - christoia

Chapter 33 - chapter 33 - christoia

 At this moment, the woman turned around at the sound of the voice, Davos could not help but stare in disbelief: I saw a woman with a head of bright blonde hair, simply pulled into a bun, such as the cloud like a pile of smooth in the back of the head, revealing the snow-white slender neck; smooth forehead under the two curved eyebrows, bright eyes as blue as Aegean water, long and curved eyelashes reflecting the light of the eyes, adding a few points of misty temptation; the bridge of the nose is not completely straight, but a small arc, thus less heroic and more playful and feminine; thick and thin lips with a gorgeous blood color, tender and white face as a goose, and more playful and feminine; thick and thin lips with a uniformity of blood color, tender and white face as a goose, and more playful and feminine. A small arc, thus less heroic, and more playful and soft; thick and thin lips, with a gorgeous blood color, tender white face as smooth as a goose egg, and finally a perfect arc outlined slightly curved chin ...

 Despite having seen countless beautiful women on TV in his previous life, this woman's beauty dazzled Davos ...

 She lightly opened her lips, revealing her white, neat teeth, "Honorable Chief Davos, my name is Kristoa.

 "... hmmm ... hmmm ..." Davos subconsciously replied in a chorus, not even bothering to think: Kristoia Who is it? Do you know her?

 Apparently, Kristoia had seen many a man lose his temper in her presence, and instead of showing any scorn, she took a step forward and said softly, "I am the daughter of the nobleman Pronifus of Miletus, and the concubine of the prince of Persia, Cyrus the Younger, and I now seek refuge with you!"

 Little Cyrus's concubine? With a jolt, Davos snapped back to what he had heard Oliverus say earlier and blurted out, "You're the woman who ... escaped from the Persian soldiers when Cyrus the Younger was killed!"

 As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he felt wrong and said, "I'm sorry! I shouldn't ... shouldn't--"

 "It doesn't matter ... it's all the Goddess of Fate's arrangement." Christoya looked grim, "I was at least lucky to escape back, but all the other sisters ..."

 Her lowered brow and mournful chu-chu demeanor caused Davos' heart to flutter again. He cursed himself for his lack of talent: in his previous life, he was a nearly married man, not a virgin!

 But after all, it was the first time he'd been up close and alone with such a beautiful woman, and with a slightly unnatural dry cough, he asked, "Where were you before?"

 "Krilcus was a trustworthy chief who sheltered me for the sake of little Cyrus. Unfortunately ..."

 Although Davos was mesmerized by Kristoia's beauty, his mind was still clear, so he continued to ask, "Although Krilcus is dead, Timazon became the new chief, and you are perfectly capable of letting him continue to shelter you. Now that we are at war with the Persians, you don't have to worry about anything anymore."

 "But Timasone isn't as prestigious as Krilkus in the barracks, and he can't control those who want ... to humiliate me." Kristoia blushed and watered.

 Davos, however, is not interested in appreciating the beauty, at this moment he has calmed down, naturally think more. He thought to himself: he openly advocate unity in the army assembly, a beautiful woman back to Timasong barracks ran to his tent, do not understand the situation thought he was greedy for beauty, disregard for the friendly forces, hijacked her ah!

 As he was deep in thought, Christoya was a bit anxious when she saw that Davos didn't respond, "I heard that you're Hades' "God's Favorite", and that all the soldiers in the entire barracks are in awe of you, and that's why I stole over here while you were having a general meeting, and your governance was lax. For the sake of the gods, you must help me!" In her desperation, she stepped forward and grabbed Davos' hand, pleading.

 The two of them were so close to each other that Davos could smell the ethereal fragrance emanating from her hair, and with a slight lowering of his head, he could see her snow-white, full breasts, and he forced down the urge to embrace her and said, "Don't worry, I'll help you." With that, he took a step backward and shouted out, "Asistos come in!"

 Christoia let out an "oops" and scrambled back, her face blushing again.

 As Davos's messenger officer, Acistus had been waiting outside the tent, and when he heard the order, he immediately came in, and the situation inside the tent froze him in his tracks.

 "Go to Chrysopus, and say, 'The concubine of Cyrus the Younger, a Miletus, Chrystoia, wishes to march with our barracks, and ask him if he will consent.'"

 "... Asiastes! ... Asistos! Do you hear me?"

 "... Oh ... oh ... I understand." Ashestus came back to his senses, busily withdrawing his gaze and answering in a panic.

 "Got it, don't go yet!"

 "YES! YES!!!" Asistos didn't forget to steal a glance before he went out.

 "That little guy!" Davos laughed and scolded, "Don't blame him, who told you to be too charming! He couldn't help but flirt.

 Cristoia laughed softly, "Chief you seem to be younger than him, and I don't see you acting like him."

 Davos smiled awkwardly, and the tent fell silent for a moment.

 "Will Hakri Sopes agree to let me stay?" It was Christoia who spoke first, asking with some concern.

 "I don't think it should be too much of a problem. You're free and not a slave to anyone. You have the right to choose where you want to go." Davos reassured her, "In fact, it would be best to seek refuge with Kerisopus."

 "Spartans I don't like!" Kristoia replied dryly.

 For some reason, Davos was relieved.

 Hearing those words, 'You are free and not anyone's slave,' made Kristoia suddenly feel like crying, and her eyes ran over Davos. A moment later, she said softly, "Where is Chief Davos from?"

 "Just call me Davos." Davos corrected, the remnants of his memory flooding back, "I'm a Thessalian, back home in a village near Macedonia."

 "Aren't your parents worried about you being out as a mercenary at such a young age?"

 "My parents are long gone."

 "I'm sorry, I didn't know ...," Christoya apologized profusely.

 "It's fine." Davos waved his hand, he didn't feel anything, for this body's parents, crossing over and being reborn, he really didn't feel a thing, but Kristoia's question reminded him of his parents in his previous life, and he couldn't help but feel sad.

 Cristoia looked at the silent man with a sudden flutter. On the one hand, the chieftain's youth and the death of his parents inspired her maternal desire for protection; on the other hand, his calmness beyond his age made her feel that she was talking to an older and steadier chieftain. This difference emphasizes the mystery of Davos, which greatly attracts Kristoia.

 "They all say that you're Hades' 'God's Favorite', is that true?" Kristoia realized she was being presumptuous as soon as she blurted out the words off the top of her head.

 However, Davos, unconcerned, asked rhetorically, "Do you believe that?"

 "I'm sure!" Cristoia immediately made up for her earlier mistake.

 Davos smiled and said slowly, "In times of difficulty one will always look for a god or goddess to rely on, so as not to let oneself always be out of fear, which would lead to a breakdown of the mind. But if one relies too much on a god or goddess instead of relying on one's own efforts to get out of a difficult situation, what one will end up waiting for is only accelerated destruction ..."

 Kristoia's mouth was slightly open in thought ...

 ...

 I don't know why, but the two actually talked a lot.

 For Davos, the repression and bitterness that had characterized the crossing was a rare release.

 As for Christoya, the daughter of a Miletus nobleman, her mother died when she was a child, and her stepmother did not care for her ... When she grew up, Miletus was besieged by Cyrus the Younger, and in order to preserve his family and power, her father, the only one who loved her, gave Christoya to Cyrus the Younger. Cyrus was very fond of her, but privately, the other concubines made things difficult for her out of cynicism. After the death of Cyrus the Younger, she fled to the camp of Krilcus, and every day she was faced with the guards of the supply camp and the lust-filled gazes of several squadron captains made her very uneasy ... Today she took the rare opportunity to pour out the repression she had been suffering to a person she had just met ...

 As he was talking, Acistus entered, followed by Tormid, the herald of the whole army.