We discussed it as we walked on. Before we’d gone much farther he had decided he definitely didn’t want any powers of his own. “It’s not my kind of thing. I don’t want to be a god. I just want to be an ordinary philosopher king, like everyone else.” He intended to tease, but he was absolutely serious and meant it. That really was what he wanted. “We’re trying to do Plato right here, as Athene intended, as Plato intended. And we’re all volunteers—not the babies born here, but even they have the choice when they become ephebes to swear their oath or leave for one of the other cities.”

“That’s the same with us,” I said.

“Yes, that’s part of why we think you’re essentially all right in the Remnant. I came here because I believed we should be following Plato more strictly, and I’m happy here.”

“Even with the Festivals of Hera?”

“The Festivals of Hera are great!” He grinned at me. He was telling the truth. “No courtship, no ambiguity, no will-they-or-won’t-they, everything organized simply for you, and most of the time no need to worry about it. Perfect!”

“And you haven’t fallen in love with anyone or anything?”

“Oh, sure.” He shrugged, a little too casually. “Agape. That’s also great. I’ll introduce you to Diogenes later. He’s in my troop, but he’s in Solon, not Theseus. He’s originally from Psyche. He had to escape to get here, as they hate to have their Young Ones leave. You’ll like him. I hope Father does.”

“I’m sure Father will,” I said, loyally. I felt a pang when I thought of Erinna, and pushed it away. A bird rose up singing from the vines, and we tilted our heads back to follow it up the sky.

“I’m happy,” he said, looking back at me. “I like it here. I have Diogenes and all my friends. I have my studies and my exercises and my troop. I enjoy my hobby work among the vines. When I’m thirty I’ll be able to vote in Chamber, and when I’m fifty I’ll be able to read the Republic. If you can stop the stupid art raids so that we only fight about important things, that would make everything better. But I don’t want to change anything about my life. I don’t want strange powers messing up who I am and all my friendships. I don’t need to be able to fly like that bird to be happy watching it fly. I don’t want something else I can’t tell Diogenes.”

“I’m so glad you’re happy,” I said. “It does seems strange to me that you don’t want powers when you could have them.”