Excerpt: Song of Princes by Janell Rhiannon [Giveaway]

Lexias stared at the boy. Their eyes locked in a battle of wills and he resorted to his smile, as he usually did to win his mother over. Lexias shook her head at his expected maneuver, a grin that could melt the ice fringe from a pond mid­winter. But today he needed reminding he remained but a boy in her household. “Clean your hands and put on fresh linen before you sit at my table.”

“Why?” he looked down at his clothing. “I am clean enough.”

Lexias scoffed. “I can smell you from across the kitchen. All cow dung and wet grass.”

Paris exhaled loudly in continued protest, sniffing his armpits and his tunic. “I smell nothing.”

His mother shook her head. “Please, take me at my word, son. Fresh clothing.

Then, dinner.” Lexias shook her head as Paris turned toward his room without another word. She’d won the battle of will and words for now but she knew full well the war was far from over.

“What will I do with this child?” she groaned. “He grows more headstrong with each passing day. Surely he will drag me to early death or cause more gray hairs to sprout,”

Lexias muttered as she turned the flat bread over the cooking stone.

“What are you mumbling about now woman? Ah! Let me guess. Paris again?”

Agelaus chuckled at his wife’s exasperation. “You are already gray, woman.”

Lexias didn’t bother turning around. “You may expect a cold wind to blow through your bed this night. Why couldn’t you have brought home a girl child?”

As soon as Paris sat to eat, he regaled his family with the tales of his cattle watch.

He told them how he single handedly drove off a handful of thieves and met a water nymph named Oenone.

Harmon shook his head laughing at Paris. “You and your fantastic tales little sister.”

Paris squeezed his eyes to mere slits at his older brother. “I­am­not­a­girl!”

“Prove it then. Prove you’ve seen this water nymph,” Harmon goaded.

Paris produced the silver crystal, holding it out for everyone to see.

His eldest brother, Harmon, snatched the bauble from Paris’ hand and examined it closely. “That is not but a shiny rock.”

“It’s her tear. I saw her make it,” Paris insisted.

“Just one tear, not two or three?” Tymon, the middle brother said, fanning the flames between his brothers.

“Nymphs only cry one tear at a time,” Paris insisted

“How do you come by such nonsense? You don’t know anything about nymphs or spirits,” Tymon insisted.

“Boys, that is quite enough. Leave Paris alone. Perhaps, he did meet a nymph,”

Agelaus defended his youngest son. “Not all mysteries in this world are revealed to every person.”

“Here begins the Paris is special oratory,” Harmon lifted his cup of wine in a toast to nothing. “This is no nymph tear. It is but a rock.”

“Agelaus, please. Don’t antagonize the boys against each other.” Lexias was forever pleading for fairness when tensions rose between her sons. She knew full well why her husband took the youngest to wing, but his protectiveness had bred an unintentional side effect. Their natural sons had grown to scorn Paris, refusing to accept him as a full member of their family.

“Paris, I believe you. Now, eat your dinner.” Agelaus refused to argue with his wife and ungrateful elder sons. He knew Paris was destined for more and that someday he would take his rightful place at King Priam’s side. And his sons would regret their youthful harshness toward the boy.