If just he wasn’t such a sweetheart. With his wide almond eyes and gorgeous smile and a face that could have been painted by the gods, it would be easy to be jealous of him.
But the gods are cruel to me, and so they gave him the sweetest of natures, honest and true and entirely lovable. It’s hard to force myself to hate him, and yet I do.
How can you not hate the one who stole your love?
I watch him look at Alexander when we’re talking. Alexander doesn’t notice, of course, he’s too absorbed by the map he’s scratched into the dust.
He looks up to joke with me about old childhood tales, and I laugh and so does he, I tease him,
and yet my eyes again and again move back to Bagoas sitting in a corner of the tent watching Alexander.
And I know that when I’ve left, he’ll walk up to my Alexander to whisper into his ear, and Alexander will smile and answer, and they’ll go to bed.
Read the rest via the link in the description!