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Halfway through the banquet, an inebriated Attalus rose from his seat. He prayed aloud that the gods might grant Philip and his niece a legitimate heir. Alexander bristled at the term legitimate.

"He makes me a bastard," Alexander told Hephaestion through gritted teeth. Hephaestion placed a staying hand on Alexander's knee.

"To Philip and Eurydice and to their legitimate sons!" Attalus raised a toast. Alexander's hand clenched into a fist on his lap. Hephaestion's eyes widened, face darkening.

"To Philip..."

Hephaestion snapped. He snarled, already half out of his seat, just as Alexander leapt to his feet.

"Alexander, don't!" Hephaestion turned and begged him to stay out of it - moments too late.

Alexander hurled his wine cup at the general. 

"And what am I? You son of a dog," Alexander seethed. "Come, then."

The guests looked on in shock.

Attalus responded by throwing his own cup. It missed its target, sailing between Alexander and Hephaestion.

Alexander having come under attack, Hephaestion saw red, and lunged like a stone released from a slingshot.

The room descended instantly into chaotic fighting and shouting.

Alexander leapt after Hephaestion, but was quickly restrained by his friends.

Hephaestion had to be likewise subdued.

The Greeks looked on the debacle with disgust, shaking their heads. Whereas their people would mix their water with wine, always maintaining their cool and composure, seeking moderation in all things, the Macedonians were reputed to behave like barbarians. They drank so much pure fortified wine they were said to perish from their famed drinking competitions. Here they were again, engaging in drunken brawls, disgracing themselves. The Greeks had known to expect this from the moment the marriage was announced.

"Shut up! Shut up, all of you!" Philip stood up to address the crowd. "This is my wedding, not some public brawl!" He narrowed his eyes at Alexander. "Apologize, by Zeus, before you dishonor me!"

Alexander flinched, stung.

"You defend the man that called my mother a whore and me a bastard? And I dishonor you?"

Philip scoffed dismissively.

"Ah! You listen like your mother. Attalus is my family now, the same as you."

"Then choose your relatives more carefully," Alexander retorted. "Don't expect me to sit here and watch you shame yourself."

"Shame?" Philip demanded.

"You insult me!" Attalus cried.

"I insult you?" Alexander roared over the ensuing uproar. "Am I not fit to lick the ground my mother walks on?"

"Shame?"

"You dog, questioning your Queen."

"Shame? I have nothing to be ashamed of, you arrogant brat," Philip exploded. "I'll marry the girl if I want, and I'll have as many sons as I want, and there's nothing that you or your harpy mother can do about it!"

Alexander shook his head somberly.

"Why, drunken man, must you think everything I do and say comes from my mother?"

"Because I know her heart, by Hera! And I see her in your eyes. You covet this throne too much. Now, we all know that she-wolf for a mother of yours wants me dead. Well, you can both dream, boy!" He grabbed his crotch mockingly.

Parmenion attempted to de-escalate the situation.

"Come, Philip, it is the wine talking," he implored his king. "Leave the boy, it can wait 'til the morning."

"No!" Philip cried, incensed. Turning to Alexander, "I command you, apologize to your kinsman."

Alexander stood silent, looking at Attalus.

"Apologize," Philip reiterated.

Finally, quietly, Alexander spoke.

"His no kinsman to me. Goodnight, old man, and when my mother remarries, I'll invite you to her wedding."

Murmurs of awe rippled through the crowd as Alexander walked away.

"You bastard! You'll obey me," Philip shouted after him. "Come here."

Hephaestion gritted his teeth, ready to leap to Alexander's defence at a moment's notice.

But Alexander only looked at Philip and continued to walk away.

No sooner had Philip unsheathed his sword than he stumbled drunkenly to the ground.

Alexander looked at him with something akin to pity.

"And this is the man who's going to take you from Greece to Persia," he scoffed bitterly. "He can't even make it from one couch to the next."

Philip's insults hurled at him as he left the room.

"Get out of my palace! You're exiled, you bastard! Vanished from the land! You're not welcomed here! You're no son of mine!"

***

After Alexander had spent himself between Hephaestion's thighs that night, Hephaestion held Alexander close.

"They were drunk. It will all be forgotten in the morning," he soothed the distraught prince.

"No, Hephaestion. I'm leaving," Alexander said, as if in a trance. "I must; I... Hephaestion, I can't breathe." Hephaestion relaxed his arms, having come close to crushing Alexander's ribcage. "My father himself decreed it. And even if he hadn't, how could I stay here?"

"I'm coming with you," was Hephaestion's swift reply.

They were almost nineteen when they fled Macedonia and sought refuge in Illyria, along with Olympias. King Glaukias took them in and treated them kindly, perceiving them no threat since he had defeated them in battle not many years prior.

During this time, Demaratus acted as an arbiter between Alexander and his father, sending reconciliatory letters in which he conveyed Philip's remorse.

It would be six months before Alexander returned home.

Their relationship, however, did not much improve. He felt sure the king only wanted his help in war, though Hephaestion swore Philip loved his son. Philip's spies, including Parmenion, reported to him regarding Alexander, about his company of boys, and Hephaestion who could no more easily be parted from Alexander than a man from his shadow. Macedonia was divided into two factions, one which supported Philip, the other supporting his son.

Hephaestion and Alexander convened to discuss the king's planned invasion of Asia, which Hephaestion believed ill-advised. And yet, proving himself a good and loyal fighter would be the surest way for Alexander to win back his father's heart.

The news came that a Persian satrap of the king, Pixodarus, had offered his eldest daughter to Alexander's half-brother, Philip Arrhidaeus. Nothing incensed Alexander more than a forced marriage. He himself had rejected every call girl and suitor he was presented with, and found the offering of humans for political alliances or pleasure despicable. On top of this, the Cairan princess was known to have a lover already, though it was greatly frowned upon. Moreover, she was developmentally disabled, and Alexander cringed to think of how she would be treated. Knowing his brother, Alexander was moved by compassion for her.

"Unbelievable," he ranted to his friends. "They cannot stoop too low in offending me. One by one they outdo themselves. First I am worthless because I am a bastard son; now, my father wishes to make my other bastard brother heir instead of me." Ptolemy, Nearchus, Harpalus, Erigyius, Ptolemy and Hephaestion listened gravely.

It was Hephaestion who implored Alexander to try and prevent the arranged marriage. Alexander wanted to save her but knew he was not on good terms with his father. He and his friends conspired to demand the princess for Alexander, that he might let her continue to be with her lover in secret.

To this end, they sent Thessalus of Corinth to Pixodarus in order to request her hand in marriage. Although Pixodarus was happy with the proposal, Philip was outraged. He had Thessalus brought to him in chains, forcing Alexander to plead for his life, and ordered the exile of all the men involved: Harpalus, Nearchus, Ptolemy, Erigyius, and Hephaestion.

Alexander wept bitter tears, refusing to eat or drink.

"If Hephaestion goes," he threatened his father. "I go. And this time I will not come back. And if you have me dragged back in chains, by Zeus, I will take my own life. Make your decision wisely, father, and know that you cannot remediate all problems with exile."

"Very well. Let the boy stay. But I will have him killed if you ever commit such treason again. I do not like to be disrespected."

Olympias overheard and was deeply unsettled. This boy, Hephaestion, was too close to her son. Alexander was to be great, and Hephaestion was nothing. A deep-rooted fear of hers surfaced, the fear that Alexander might favour his company over that of women.

King Philip did not much care whether Hephaestion stayed or left. He simply needed to make a point which would serve as a lesson for Alexander. Hephaestion was the youngest among the band of boys, no older than Alexander. It was men like Erigyius, twenty-four years older than Alexander, whose influence led him astray. They were the threats, and so they were exiled while Hephaestion was permitted to stay.

Olympias was incensed by her husband's decision. When she brought her concerns to Philip, however, they were quickly dismissed. Philip himself had taken a few male lovers, and did not perceive his son's rumoured affection for the boy as a threat - even if the rumours were true.

"You misconstrue everything," he accused his wife. "You try to destabilize and question me at every turn. They are but boys. And besides, Hephaestion is a promising warrior. What I have decided, I have decided. I have more important things to worry about." He had just sent his trusted men - Parmenion, Amyntas, Andromenes and Attalus - along with an army of ten thousand to secure Anatolia in preparation for the throwing off of Achaemenid rule there. He needed to devise a plan, discern the best time of attack, and could not be bothered by his son's boyish companions.

His wife spun on her heel and fled for her own chambers, for she hadn't shared a bed with her husband since the night of Alexander's conception.

***

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"My poor child," she later told Alexander. "You're like Achilles; cursed by your greatness. Take my strength," she prayed. "You must never confuse your feelings with your duties, Alexander. A king must make public gestures for the common people." She stroked Alexander's hair sympathetically. "You will be nineteen this summer, and the girls already say you don't like them, you like Hephaestion more. I understand, it's natural for a young man. But if you go to Asia without leaving a successor you risk all."

Alexander bristled, stepping back from his mother as though slapped.

"Hephaestion loves me," he replied. "As I am. Not who."

"Loves? Loves?" She rose to her feet. "In the name of Dionysus, understand how Philip thinks. For your own sake. Your life hangs in the balance. His spies are inside your closest-"

"Stop! I'm his only worthy son, you crazed woman. He'd never hurt me. Even if Eurydice had a boy, he'd be twenty before he'd let him rule."

"Yes. And you would be forty. Old, and wise. Like Parmenion. And Philip's young son would be twenty. Like you, now. But raised by him. His blood. He will never give you the throne now, Alexander, never."

"What would you have me do?"

"Whatever is necessary."

"Where have you lost your mind? There'd be civil war, clan against clan chaos!"

Olympias' lips curved into a shrewd smile.

"Yes... And you would win."