Evelthon waited outside the house. The high sun piercing clouds of fluffiest bounce caught him in its radiant rays, highlighting the gold luster in his hair of cream. Evelthon leaned casually against the wall with powerful forearms folded over one another. As he delayed noticing their return, Rhene assumed the opening and closing of his mouth came from conversation with those within the building. Then she noticed Orius’s missing horse and a lack of Lasos and Anysia within. Evelthon raised a hand and smiled at their approach. Rhene’s cheeks puffed. 

“I can’t quite understand that expression,” Evelthon studied her curiously. 

“I’m doing my best to fall in line with this ‘freedom’ I now supposedly have in abundance, but I am having a hard time finding the confidence to continually ignore all that I have been taught,” Rhene mumbled through the pout. 

“...Yes,” Evelthon rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m afraid I’m still at a loss.” 

“I want to ask you a question, but my teachings tell me to not, well, question you.” 

“Question away, please,” Evelthon urged with intrigue. 

“Were you talking to yourself?” Rhene spat out. Cheeks deflating as he flinched from realization, that familiar blush stuck itself back upon her face instead. Thankfully, a half smile, nostalgic in some manner, brought Evelthon away from his own embarrassment. He glanced at the sky. 

“I was talking with Inachus.” 

“Why were you talking to the god of the summer sun?” 

“Orius set out to refresh our supplies, Lasos fell asleep upstairs, and Anysia went to check on her fields. It’s been a while since I’ve been around many, so I suppose the sudden isolation left me a little lonely.” 

“Is Inachus a good conversationalist?” 

“No,” Evelthon snorted a laugh. “Not a single response, which is quite disheartening.” 

“He might not have responded, but perhaps he’s at least listening,” Rhene proposed. 

“What do you mean?” 

“We saw you from a while back. Although the clouds are numerous, the sun didn’t cease to fall over you once.” 

“I...” Evelthon’s breathing hitched. Rhene gripped the fold of her chiton uncertain of the depth of conflict flicking through those deep brown eyes. There seemed to be a sense of grief as greatly as there was a sense of bittersweet fondness and relief. It passed in an instant. Evelthon’s smile blossomed fully while her cheeks’ heat flared. “I did not notice that myself. You might be right, although it is still rude for him to keep silent when one wishes to converse.” 

“Better he answer you than me. I’ve been taunted too much recently with the lures of fate, as Haidee made clear to me.” Rhene shook her head. “I don’t wish to know what’s in store should one of the sun gods contact me directly.” 

“I wouldn’t think anything bad. Inachus is a boldly cheerful fellow, from what I’ve heard,” Evelthon chuckled. 

“His cheer has caused me to finally start burning. I forgot to bring the hood, and the shade of the tree wasn’t enough.” 

“The tinge of pink is a pretty color, but, yes, come inside and rest.” 

“I’ll help you reapply the oil,” Haidee caught her arm. 

“Thank you.” 

Rhene lounged in the safety of the house where the cooling wind that picked up whenever the heat thought to truly scald floated right on through the windows to calm the ache of her shoulders and arms. Haidee worked fast with the oil, and Evelthon fetched delightfully crisp water from the well. Orius returned an hour later. Haidee had nothing of worth to claim from her previous master’s house and thanked Orius generously for the new supplies for her. Orius took his turn at Kalykso’s grave, Rhene attempted to help with dinner only for Anysia and Haidee to coddle her out of her efforts, and a grand meal for a household such as this was held upon Orius’s return. Rhene and Haidee shared the room upstairs for the night with Anysia while the men slept downstairs. 

As they resumed their journey—Haidee riding behind Evelthon—the hours ahead didn’t roil as much anxiety in Rhene’s chest as they had before. She tried holding a conversation with Haidee while they went, but the confusing overlap from Orius and Evelthon sticking to their own talking left Rhene’s plan of slow build up to a momentous reveal deflated. Thus, the surprise was pure when Haidee started to tend to her for their midday stop. 

“You don’t need to worry yourself with fussing over me,” Rhene said. 

“It is no worry, and it is no burden. I’m proud to serve you,” Haidee sweetly beamed. 

“Well,” Rhene beamed brighter, “know that you don’t need to serve me any longer.” 

The utter shock consuming Haidee had to be ecstasy. 

“I know the only way to have brought you with us was to have bought you from your old master, but I don’t like it regardless. That’s why I tell you this now—you're free, Haidee.” 

“...What?” Haidee struggled to whisper, cheeks going pale. 

Rhene held less faith in the shock being ecstasy. 

“I’m freeing you. Haidee, you don’t have to be a slave anymore.” 

“What?! Why?!” Haidee, shaking to the nearness of a fit, grasped Rhene’s arms and vanished Rhene’s core with the despair in her slick eyes. “Please don’t! I-I don’t want—!” 

“W-What? What is it?” Rhene flustered. “Don’t you want to be free?” 

Rhene clearly had an expert’s grip on making Orius sigh. He did so again. “I had a feeling you might go this route. Hellanike, to free her like that is problematic. I should have warned you not to do so.” 

“I don’t understand,” Rhene whined, temples throbbing. The ache eased, however, when Evelthon put a hand on her shoulder. 

“Although masters, especially in Samatis, can be cruel, they’re expected to care for their slaves. To provide housing, food, and clothes. There is also the matter of the safety of your connection. Haidee cares for you and wishes to stay by your side. Belonging to you means she has a right to go wherever you go. To suddenly set her free is to leave her without any means to support herself as she has no money or connections, and the station of Aetion’s house will reject the presence of a recently-freed person who still bears the stigma of property.” 

“But!” Rhene whipped towards Orius. “She can come, can’t she? We can continue to support her for now, right? I-I can’t do much, but I’ll find a way to be her guarantor as soon as I can so it won’t inconvenience you.” 

“You realize that’s much the same as you being her master?” Orius quirked a brow. 

“It’s the principle!” Rhene huffed. 

“Hellanike,” Haidee sniffled. Rhene faced her tear-streaked cheeks and melted. “I appreciate your affection. It comforts my heart more than anything I’ve known since your mater’s passing. But, please...please...” 

“How can you want to stay a slave?” Rhene clenched her fists. 

“If I may?” Evelthon put a firmer grip, though soothing, on her shoulder. “You lived your own life a certain way, yes? To be pulled from it and expected to be glad for a ‘better’ way thrust upon you caused you woe instead. It is taking you time to adjust, sort through your thoughts, and determine what it is you wish, right?” 

“I...” Rhene unleashed the coil from her chest, “I hear you.” 

“Let me know if this works. Haidee, Rhene cares for you and your state, and she wishes to give you the wonder the world can offer by releasing you from your bond of servitude. However, what if that release is a moment of your choosing? When you feel you’re ready to take the step?” 

“Yes. You can always stay by my side—I never want that to be a worry,” Rhene promised. “I just want that companionship to be as a friend and not from the demand of shackles.” 

“I...want things to stay as they are now,” Haidee considered, drying her face. “But I thank you. When I am ready, I would very much like to be your friend.” 

“Good,” Rhene could smile again. 

The two shared a hug. It lingered so long the men got caught in the awkwardness it produced and stepped off to absentmindedly fuss about camp for distraction. Rhene then insisted on helping prepare lunch, and she giggled when Haidee necessitated fixing her hair into a series of braids after the meal completed. Inachus bearing down more of his so-called bold cheerfulness kept them in the shade of the trees and cool dips of the hills. It took heavy convincing to persuade Haidee back, but Rhene saw the opportunity for a moment when Evelthon stated his intention to forage in the woods. Rhene persisted in her clumsy walk through the underbrush, although the scratch of the wild did not sting her feet as much. 

“Evelthon,” Rhene called after several minutes of her panicking if she’d end up lost successfully put him in sight. 

Evelthon squatted by a bush of berries with a slight bulge in the cloth pouch he held and a bigger bulge in his cheeks. Rhene couldn’t help her laughter over his stunned, unblinking expression. What she also couldn’t help was the flutter. His position bunched his chiton high up on his thighs, exposing the majority of his legs firm and strapping. She’d known almost nothing but athletic men in her life. Why, then, did a sight not uncommon turn her mind light with such ease? 

“Sorry,” Evelthon swallowed hard and stood. Rhene was disappointed. “Did you need something?” 

“I wish to thank you.” 

“I’m happy to have done you a service. Um, what did I do?” 

“You called me Rhene.” 

“I did. It’s your name.” 

Rhene’s lungs convulsed. She linked her fingers together. “...It’s the name of a dead daughter.” 

“Then why are you grateful that I used it?” 

“I...” 

“Perhaps you said it wanting me to make your decision for you,” Evelthon contemplated. 

“My decision?” 

“For what your name is. You haven’t said anything against the others calling you Hellanike, but the conflict is there on your face. If they’ve noticed, they perhaps haven’t tried to prod because they simply desire to stick to what they know.” 

“It is the name my mater who tried so desperately to keep me safe gave me,” Rhene stared at her feet. 

“That is true. It is also true that you spent a youth having the name Rhene filled with love and memory. The way your mater sang it to you in lullabies, the way your pater filled it with praise, the way your brother barked it in annoyance, and the way your sisters berated you with it as they tenderly followed you around like ducklings. Would you dismiss that so readily?” 

“I,” Rhene squeezed her eyes tightly, “don’t want to.” 

Evelthon moved before her, the soft grass underneath his sandals a pleasing sound. She felt his nearness and slowly, coyly opened her eyes. Evelthon smiled. He did that a lot. At least, he did when her stare was on him. Did he look as cheerful with everyone else? Curious, her gaze lingered. Rhene’s chin tilted up, but his height was not a strain. Evelthon plucked a berry out of the pouch and set it in her palms. 

“Tell Orius. He’ll come to accept it despite any beginning grumbles, and it’ll be easier for him to adjust the sooner you tell him.” 

“I fear I may stumble on that. Will you stand behind me?” Rhene motioned for a second berry, wanting the touch of his fingertips upon hers again more than the fruit. 

“Gladly.” 

“Evelthon, you’re truly odd.” 

“The reason?” 

“I mentioned it somewhat before, with you and Orius acting differently than how my stories of Samatis men told me you should be. You, more than he, hold something unique within you. In the gentle, kind way you are, but more than you being a gentle and kind man. I’m not sure how to best describe it.” 

“I naturally can’t say anything on that myself,” Evelthon looked away, hand tightening on the pouch. 

“Where are you from? You hesitated when Lasos asked.” 

“We don’t need to go into that,” Evelthon deflected with a deprecating chortle. “It doesn’t mean much.” 

“I disagree. Although, if—” 

Weighty snaps broke bush branches. Evelthon and Rhene silenced at the heavy stomp following the rustling coming from the north. Rhene hoped it was Orius sharing his turn at being clumsy, but it was not so. It was a bear, black and ragged. Evelthon whipped before her as it rose with a sharp mouth snarling and drooling.