I hate Athens. It sprawls like a bird-dropping over some of the meanest, least promising land in all of Greece. Just about the only things its fields can raise are olives, vases, and philosophers. He carried me up the narrow pathway to the citadel where the royal palace stands and set me down by the courtyard well, then took a step back and grinned as if he’d given me half of Mount Olympos for a birthday present. I wonder whether he wore that same self-serving grin right after he killed the Minotaur? No matter what he did, Theseus, king of Athens, was always so very proud of himself.“Welcome home, Helen!” he declared, spreading his arms wide. He’d sent a runner ahead to announce our arrival, so there was a crowd assembled to greet us—slaves, guards, servants, and others who had no choice in the matter. They all sent up a small, dutiful cheer. Only Theseus’ mother, Lady Aithra, sounded as if she meant it.I looked around. I wasn’t impressed, and I didn’t mind saying so. “What a midden.
