“But your body—I thought—Klio has explained to me how I was wrong. It was a long explanation, but I do finally understand now.” He smiled ruefully up at me. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have been talking to her about it, but I’d never in a hundred years have understood without all that. I was wrong. And I have been punished by being deprived of your friendship, and Klio’s friendship, all this time.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just stared at him.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Klio tells me that in her day, philosophy has discovered that people have two minds, a reasoning mind and an animal mind. Your reasoning mind believes that you have logical disagreements with me, but it is your animal mind driving what you feel. You have to get them into alignment to become godlike. That’s what Plato meant with the metaphor of the charioteer.”

“That is not what Plato meant!” I snapped, infuriated. At that moment, I’d have cheerfully turned him into a fly if I could. There’s nothing more irritating than having somebody misinterpret my intentions and Plato’s at the same time!

He went on. “Your animal mind wants to love me, the way your body wanted to love me that night under the trees. But your rational mind says no to love, because it’s afraid to love, maybe because of what I did. So I want to persuade your rational mind.”

I crossed my arms and leaned back against a pillar. “Go ahead. My rational mind only listens to rational arguments, not all this animal mind nonsense! And I think saying that part of me loves you is the most arrogant thing I’ve ever heard, even from you. And I am not afraid to love!”

“Who do you love?” he asked, rhetorically. “Lysias? No. He’s your friend, you sometimes used to share a bed, but that’s all. There’s no love, no real passion. He has told Lukretia, and she told me.”

I was furious with Lysias. “He had no right—”

Ikaros shrugged. “He feels passion for Lukretia, and she asked him about you.”

I still didn’t understand what was going on with Lysias and Lukretia. I missed him.