In the bedroom in the royal court Corinth, a man wearing a warm woolen tunic is laying on the bed with cold sweats.
"Prince Euenios! Please wake up!" the little maid couldn't dare to touch his royal highness the Prince as he lay there sick, but in a moment of clarity his sickness subsides a little, following a rough grating cough he opens his eyes.
They are a deep blue, like the sea before a storm, and for a moment, the girl is lost in them. But she quickly remembers her duty and whispers, "Your Royal Highness, the Queen is asking for you."
Euenios sits up abruptly, the sweat making his clothes stick to his chest, revealing his toned lean physique… He looks to the maid beside him.
"What time is it?"
he croaks out, his throat parched.
The maid swallows hard, feeling her cheeks burn. "It's almost dawn, Your Highness. The council is awaiting your presence."
He nods, his mind racing. He throws his legs over the side of the bed, the fur blankets sliding away from his body. His bare feet touch the cold stone floor, sending a shiver through him. The maid rushes forward with a cup of water, her eyes never quite meeting his. She's young, with full lips and a gentle smile that seems to always be playing on the edge of her mouth.
Euenios takes the cup and drinks greedily, the cold liquid feeling like a heavenly balm on his dry throat. He can see her watching him, those lips of hers quivering slightly.
Does she know something he doesn't? He sets the cup down and looks back at her.
"Yes, the council, my plan to evacuate the family to Iberia… No one will believe me though." He muses.
The girl's eyes widen slightly at the mention of his plan. "Why wouldn't they believe you, Your Highness?"
He chuckles humorlessly, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Because no one ever does. They think I'm just a foolish boy with foolish ideas. But I've seen it in my dreams, the destruction that's coming to us. If we don't leave soon, we'll all be dead, and it'll be on my hands!"
Her expression turns to one of concern as she sets the cup back down on the nightstand. "Your Highness, you are not a fool. You are the hope of Corinth. I believe you. Maybe if you speak with more conviction, they will too?"
He looks at her for a moment and smiles. "No need to be too opinionated stupid girl, let the men handle the Kingdom…" he stops himself.
"If you want to help me you have to know more than just housekeeping."
The maid Lysandra is the daughter of Prince Euenios' nanny, as one of the sons of Antigonos he was privileged enough to grow up in Corinth, one of the more advanced cities in Greece, while his father rules from Bylazora due to old age.
Euenios swings his legs over the side of the bed, the fur blanket slipping away to reveal his bare chest. He stands up slowly, feeling the cold stone floor against his feet. He's tall and lean, with muscles that speak of hours of training in the courtyard. Lysandra's eyes dart to his bare skin, but she quickly looks away, blushing.
"Lys, I need you to gather my clothes and get me ready for the council meeting. Time is of the essence," he commands, his voice still raspy from his illness.
The maid nods, her eyes wide with urgency. She quickly moves to the wardrobe and selects a clean tunic and a pair of leather sandals. As she hands them to him, their fingers brush together, sending a jolt through her. She looks up and catches his gaze. For a moment, she sees something in his eyes that she's never seen before – something that makes her heart race. But she quickly reminds herself of her place and averts her eyes.
"I'm sorry, I cannot take you with me Lysandra, but wait for the good news."
As the heirs of Alexander the Great…
They speak of Alexander.
…
The halls of the forum adorned with marble are filled with scribes going about their business scribbling notes and whispering urgent messages. The air is thick with tension and the smell of ink. Euenios walks through them, his head held high despite the weakness in his legs. His dreams have been plagued by visions of a fiery doom for weeks, and he knows he must convince the council to act before it's too late.
He enters the council chamber, the grandeur of the room doing little to boost his confidence. The council members sit around the grand table, their stern faces etched with skepticism as they eye the young prince.
"Your Royal Highness, we are surprised to see you in such haste and in such health," one of them says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Euenios clears his throat, his eyes flashing with determination. "I come with a warning, my lords. Corinth is in grave danger, and we must act swiftly to ensure our survival. I've seen it in my dreams – a fiery destruction that will consume us all if we do not leave for Iberia!"
The council members exchange glances, some of them smirking at his words. But Euenios presses on, his voice gaining strength. "Do not dismiss me because of my youth or the whispers of prophecy. I speak the truth, and you will see it for yourselves if you do not heed my warning!"
The room falls silent, and the only sound is the crackling of the fireplace. The council leader, an old man with a white beard, strokes his chin thoughtfully. "Very well, Prince Euenios. We shall consider your proposal. But we need more than just dreams to make such a drastic decision. Bring us evidence, and perhaps we will see the wisdom in your words."
Euenios nods, his heart sinking. Evidence? Isn't Zeus enough evidence?