At the harbor of Xanthos, where the headlands at each end of the curved shoreline protected his growing fleet, Dion conducted his weekly tour of the shipyards with Roxana.

He usually had an eye for detail, asking her question after question, probing the state of everything he could think of, from the supplies of oak, pine, and hemp to the disposition of the men. He regularly patted the sides of ships and explored interiors, rubbed sailcloth between his fingers, and ate from the mess to check the quality of the food. But today he was enjoying standing on the beach and having an overview, simply taking in all he’d accomplished.

For today was different; he felt that he was seeing the world through new eyes. He would soon have a babe, gurgling in his arms as he pointed out his mighty warships and merchant vessels. The babe would become a child, the child would grow, and he would have someone to share his passion for the sea with, to pass his knowledge down to. A son or daughter, tottering by his side and then walking, growing, standing tall, and making him proud.

‘The work goes well,’ Roxana grunted. ‘We’ll have six serviceable triremes by summer.’

Dion nodded absently.

Roxana raised an eyebrow. ‘Am I boring you, sire?’

‘No, sorry.’ Dion smiled as he swept his gaze over the harbor. He saw an older fisherman with a youth who could only be his son, struggling together to get their net into their boat. The father patted his boy on the back when their task was accomplished.

Roxana’s gruff voice brought Dion out of his reverie. ‘She’s really got you by the heartstrings, hasn’t she?’

‘It’s not just her, it’s . . .’

Dion clamped his words down. No one could know that she was with child until after the wedding, or the child’s legitimacy would be brought into question. The only people who knew besides Dion and Isobel were Glaukos, Philippos, the high priestess, and Sophia.

‘She’s very beautiful, and I’m excited to be married,’ Dion said lamely.

‘And she’s far away in Phalesia, and you can’t wait to take her to your bed.’ Roxana smiled and gripped his arm. ‘I’m happy for you, Dion.’

He grinned as she slapped him on the back. ‘Sorry if I’m distracted. You were saying?’

‘It’s nothing that can’t wait.’ Roxana gazed at the horizon. ‘Have you heard from Fort Liberty lately?’

‘I’m sure Cob is fine.’

She harrumphed. ‘Of course he is. I was merely asking about the men.’

Now it was Dion’s turn to smile. ‘Roxana, can I ask you something?’

‘You’re the king, and you’re asking me if you can ask me a question?’

‘When did you last take some time off?’

‘Eh?’