SHE LET IT PIERCE HER, THE LIGHT that reflected off the river's crystalline waters, split the soul forged by Osiris' hand and remake her into something new. She couldn't tell them about what had happened with Calix -- her mother had already lost her tongue for trying to defend her virtue and who knew what the Prince would take this time? This was her secret to keep, her shame to bear.

Jezza could pretend it never happened, just like she pretended the collar around her throat meant nothing, that she wasn't some chained and manacled dog meant to serve her master no matter how many times she was beaten down. Reality was a fabrication, a lie. The only thing that was true was what she remembered, so she would force herself to forget.

"Elia," she said, and her friend turned, green eyes wide.

Her face softened once she saw who it was and she stood to give Jezza a tight hug. She stood about three inches taller than Jezza's five foot five frame, so Elia had to bend down to wrap her arms around her waist. Her touch was warm and familiar, the faint scent of lavender that always lingered on her skin from the expensive soap Lord Andromedus gave her soothing to Jezza's senses. 

She loved lavender because she loved Elia; it was strong and constant, but also brittle and soft to the touch. It could be broken easily, and she feared the same was true of Elia. And she already knew which man had the power to break her.

"How is she?" she asked the blonde-haired girl once she released her.

"Better than yesterday, I think," Elia took her hand and led her to her mother's side. "She's not used to it, yet. Not being able to speak. She keeps making these sounds; sometimes I can understand her, and sometimes I can't."

Jezza nodded and sat down on her mother's left. Her mother's hair fell in a haphazard heap of tightly coiled curls halfway down her back, streaked with white at the roots. It wasn't that she was terribly old, she'd been sixteen she'd given birth to Jezza and only eighteen years had passed since then, but it was the work that was killing her. Tending the fields, being out underneath the unforgiving Grecian sun for more than sixteen hours a day. And the food--what little they did have was leftover from the nobles dinner, meagre pickings that wouldn't even be enough to satisfy a child.

It was part of the reason why Elia was much plumper than both of them combined. She usually worked in the kitchens, so she ate well, and even if she didn't, Lord Andromedus was always bringing her chocolates and sweets in an effort to win her favour. He didn't need to, of course. Any men willing to marry her and buy her freedom was already enough.

It wasn't enough for Jezza, though. Elia had asked her once if she would like her to talk to Lord Andromedus and see if he had any friends who might be willing to do the same for Jezza. She'd been forced to vehemently refuse her friend's request. If she were ever to have her freedom, she wanted it to be on her own terms, won by her own hand. For if a man was the reason she was no longer a slave, then he could just as easily make her a slave again.

"Mama?" Jezza brushed a stray black and silver strand out of her mother's eyes, stroking the weathered brown skin of her cheek. She'd never met her grandmother, who'd lived in Egypt all her life as a low-caste woman before she'd died, but she imagined this is how she must have looked. Her mother was dying and Eritreus, that man she was loath to call father, was the one to blame. "Are you alright?"

Her mother nodded, and Jezza bit her bottom lip, fighting back tears. It was just like her mother to say she was alright even when she wasn't, to give Jezza her food even when she was starving, to take a beating when it was Jezza who had destroyed a crop or failed to gather enough to meet that day's quota.

"Don't lie, Mama," she murmured, trying to make her voice firm but failing miserably. "I know you're not okay."

"That sick bastard," Elia hissed in disgust, squeezing her mother's other shoulder, "may he rot in Tartarus for what he did to you."

"I'll be the one to send him there, one day," Jezza added, "I promise."

Her mother only shook her head. A few indistinct sounds escaped her lips; Jezza knew she was warning her against such dark thoughts, but she could no longer swallow her hatred.

"I still can't believe Eritreus did nothing to stop him," Elia said, glancing at Jezza from over her mother's head.

"When he has he ever stopped the Prince from doing anything?"

"But he said he loves her. When he came to see her in the hut this morning to tell her she could have the day off, he said he loved her."

"Don't you know, Elia? Spartan men don't know how to love."

Elia glanced away, letting her hair shroud her face. "Not all of them."

"Yes, all of them. Lord Andromedus isn't any different--he'll grow tired of you and take on a dozen mistresses to please him elsewhere."

The other girl's cheeks flushed. "You don't know that."

"Yes, El, I do. It's all around us. It's in what my father did to my mother, how Calix is towards me, how every nobleman is built. They. Are. All. The. Same. Aren't they, mother?" she says, squeezing the older woman's hand. "Aren't I right?"

Her mother glanced between the two girls, tears gleaming like crushed diamonds in her eyes. Her lips didn't move this time, no sound escaped her lips. Jezza wanted her to nod, Elia wanted her to shake her head. She did neither. There was no clear cut answer to be had, only pain and suffering, and burgeoning hopes and long lost dreams.

"You're so convinced he'll break my heart, but you know nothing of love, Jezza. Nothing at all."

Jezza glanced away from her, swallowing hard, and leaned her head against her mother's shoulder. Her mother rubbed her left arm up and down in soothing circles, and she sighed, the light glinting off the water almost blinding her. "Maybe I don't," she admitted, pain rising up inside of her like a tidal wave, "maybe it's better that way."

Elia opened her mouth and then closed it, no doubt thinking it was better not to reply at all. She leaned so her head rested on the curve of Jezza's mother's neck, and the older woman wrapped an arm around her shoulders as well. Two daughters, one light and one dark, both chained to the same dreary existence.

But then the light broke on the horizon, and a large black shape appeared where the Eurotas ended and gave way to the Aegean Sea. Jezza frowned, not moving from her place beside her mother, squinting her eyes to make out the shape more clearly. As it drew closer, more shapes appeared beside it in a slanted V, with the first figure at the point.

It was a ship, she realized, as black faded into brown and gold, and a dozen white masts appeared that rippled and broke against the wind. It was the symbol on the masts that made her stand, the faint outline of countless men sitting and rowing, muscles straining against the tumbling waves that sent fear thrumming through her veins.

A single golden eye, with a heavy dark brow, a straight line that dripped down from the iris, and another that extended into a curled point. The sigil of her patron god, Amun-Ra, the sun king.

The breath caught in her throat, trapped in an unforgiving vice, as the truth appeared before her.

The Egyptians were here, and Jezza had no idea why. 

Author's Note : 

This was such an interesting chapter to write! I really wanted you guys to understand a little bit more about Elia and Jezza's mother, but I needed this chapter to end with the Egyptians finally coming to Sparta. 

You know that it's about to go down now :) Please stay tuned for Saturday for the next update, and if you enjoyed this chapter, please consider giving this chapter a vote and a comment. I really appreciate it, and I'm always happy to reply to your questions. 

Thanks again!