“Axios, face me.” I did not fight his request because I needed to see him. Perhaps, it would provide me some clarity. When I turned and met his stare, his eyes watched me with the look I’d come to expect from him, one that was kind but also searching, as if he were seeing into a part of my soul. “Speak,” he said in a tone that matched the expression in his grass-green eyes. He brushed the back of his hand along my cheek. A gentle caress that Spartans had no purpose for. Public displays of affection were looked down upon, even when soldiers went off to war and said goodbye to their families.
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