Love Among the Ruins
By Deena Remiel
()
About this ebook
Burning Sage - Volcanologist Sage Wilcot’s heart has lain safely dormant until she meets Emmanouel, the immortal prince tasked with redeeming a vanished civilization—and who is set upon igniting passion in her body and soul.
Immortal Dance - During the summer solstice, true love crosses space and time to find an ancient Anasazi princess who must choose between him and her people’s ancient traditions.
Fiona's Choice - A modern young woman on the coast of Ireland, widowed too soon by the death of her sailor husband, is visited by the fabled Irish sea god Lir...and true love.
Haunting Solace- Haunted by a vengeful ghost in Siena, Italy, Stella will find her seemingly eternal torment exchanged for love by a handsome visitor.
Deena Remiel
It was the mystique of Arizona’s history and landscape that called to Deena and catapulted her career as a USA Today Bestselling Author. When she’s not writing urban fantasy or paranormal romance in the wee, small hours of the morning or in the deep, dark of night, Deena teaches language arts to gifted middle school students. She currently lives in Mesa, but New Jersey will always tug at her heartstrings.
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Love Among the Ruins - Deena Remiel
Love Among the Ruins
Burning Sage
To my readers, who continue to believe in impossible romance
BURNING SAGE
Chapter One
Atlantis, 1521 BC
Emmanouel shifted his chest plate to the right, then to the left, bristling before taking one final glance back at the marbled temples and columns guarding his home. The linen undertunic chafed his skin, and he’d have to meet the foreign dignitaries in armor two sizes too small. Who had time to have another made when more important matters were at hand?
Stop all that fussing about!
his fossilized father bellowed over the cacophony of activity surrounding them on the dock. You’re a prince, not a common dog scratching at fleas.
It’s my aegis. I haven’t had time to requisition a new one.
Ah, yes, you’ve certainly grown. In size, strength, and wisdom, I believe! Your physique could rival the gods, and your diplomatic abilities are the talk of the city.
His father clapped him on the shoulder, grinning ear to ear. That’s my boy. You’ll make your brother a fine advisor when he becomes king.
He turned and roared a command. Stephanos!
Emmanouel cringed as a rather large and burly man, his friend since they were babes, looked over the side of the ship, acknowledged the king, and lumbered down the gangplank to kneel before his father.
Yes, my king?
King Kleitos pointed a gnarled finger toward the man’s chest. Take off your armor and give it to my son.
Yes, of course, my liege.
He bowed without pause and did as commanded.
But Father—
Emmanouel, give him yours,
the old man continued in his usual autocratic manner, completely disregarding his son’s objection. Yours’ll do for him until another can be forged in Athens.
This isn’t necessary, Father,
Emmanouel whispered in his ear.
What? Of course it’s necessary,
he scoffed. You can’t go to Athens looking like a sham of a prince. In the future, plan ahead, ask, and your needs will be provided for. You may not be throne-bound, but you are and will be taken care of as befits your station.
Thank you, Father. I am deeply grateful.
The prince bowed and offered a humble smile as he arose, then suited up in his friend’s armor.
Much better! Your negotiations with Athens are of a most serious nature. Don’t come home without a successful agreement or terms of war. And while you’re at it, it wouldn’t hurt to come back with an Athenian wife, as well.
Emmanouel hung his head and shook it, amused by the king’s preoccupation with his second son’s love life. I am confident I can persuade them to find our plan mutually advantageous. As for the wife, if there is time and opportunity, I will make an earnest attempt. Maybe your energies would be better spent marrying off my dear brother. Shouldn’t he have a queen by his side?
Don’t think I haven’t tried! Maybe you should bring a bride home for him instead.
Emmanouel glanced around and drew in a thankful breath as he saw all was ready to cast off. It looks as though everything is in order. They’re waiting for me. Take care, Father. I know you’re tired and ready to hand over the throne to Alexis, but I want to see you hearty and well-rested when I return.
He embraced his father with all the love and respect of a son who had admired him since the day he could climb upon his father’s throne. There was no one like him on earth. He’d ruled Atlantis fairly for thirty-five years. In his honor, Emmanouel would go to Athens and bring back their seal as proof of their agreement. There was no other option in his mind.
The king extended his weatherworn hands to cup his son’s face. May Poseidon be with you!
And with you!
Emmanouel charged up the gangway. He paused to stand at the bow of the sleek sailing vessel in his new
armor, exhilarated and anticipating great success on his voyage. He’d worked for months brokering this deal, until at last he was certain he had a solid plan that would benefit both parties. Atlantis and Athens would at long last end their animosity and become trade partners, bringing great prosperity to both cities.
* * *
Prince Emmanouel, pardon my intrusion, but we are heading to port. I thought you’d like to be on deck.
He’d been pouring over his notes for the millionth time down in his makeshift study. He’d have King Cecrops eating out of the palm of his hand once the meetings began.
Thank you, Stephanos. One thing first before you go.
Yes, Your Highness,
the captain replied with unaccustomed formality.
As soon as our feet touch Athens soil, I will pay to have armor made for you in return for the kind deed you offered me this morning. You look downright ridiculous! That’s no way for a loyal soldier or friend to be treated.
Thanks, but I think I want to keep the damn thing.
What?
Yes, I believe I’ve grown rather fond of not breathing or being able to move my arms.
The old friends laughed easily, their camaraderie restored.
* * *
Ah! Emmanouel, my good man! So glad Poseidon has seen it fit to usher you safely to our port.
Smiling, Emmanouel tromped down the gangway and stepped onto Athenian soil. The briny smell of the harbor reminded him of home. Senator Apostolos, a pleasure, as always, to arrive on friendly shores and on such a beautiful day. I do believe I’ve never seen the sky so blue or felt the breeze so—
Hot! It’s downright hot!
The two diplomats clasped arms in genuine friendship despite the vast difference in age and the tension dripping from sweaty soldiers on both sides. "The gods must be bored and toying with us, sending this kind of blazing heat. I have horses and carts waiting for you and your men. I am sure you are tired from the journey and would like some rest, food, and, ahem, entertainment." He wiggled his brow.
We are most grateful for your generosity.
You’ve been here so often of late, I’m sure your men know exactly what to do and where to go. Come with me, so we can catch up on life.
One moment, if you please.
He called to Stephanos, who was securing the boat, See to securing the ship. Then you and your men are free until we set sail again in two days time.
Yes, Your Highness, all will be done.
Emmanouel returned his attention back to the senator, who would help bridge the narrowing gap between their two cities. As he brought his flask of water to his lips, sweat trailed down the side of his face. He took a swift sip and then poured the rest over his head. Ah!
He raked his fingers through his shaggy, black hair. That’s better!
Ha ha! That’s one way to cool down. You are a lucky man, my friend.
Oh? How so?
King Cecrops can be a very moody fellow, but he has been in a fairly good mood as of late. One of his daughters was just married to a prince from some country I can’t pronounce, but it is a good political move.
"I’ll be luckier still if he seals the deal with me." Emmanouel mounted the stallion the senator had reserved for him and took in the sights, sounds, and smells of the city-state. It was a hustling, bustling metropolis of marbled buildings and rocky, mountainous landscape dotted with lush green trees and well-pruned gardens of roses, violets, and lilies. As the horses brought them through the Agora, he kept his eye out for a blacksmith shop. Nestled on the corner of one row, he found what he’d been looking for.
Apostolos, I need to get new armor for Stephanos. It is most urgent. I should go back and bring him here.
That won’t be necessary. I’ll have the blacksmith come to us.
He nodded at a nearby soldier to procure the craftsman.
Thank you.
Farther along, he smelled aromatic spices, fruits, and cooking fish, reminding him of the last time he’d been here, and of the beauty who’d fed his hunger. Althea, Apostolos’s daughter. Everything faded into the background—the women hawking flowers, the men debating law on the temple steps, the metal jewelry chiming in the breeze—as he recalled how she’d enchanted him with her mellifluous voice, her sensual dancing, and her luscious lips.
His father needn’t worry about him finding a woman to marry. He planned on returning to Atlantis with Althea, with Apostolos’s blessing. Not only was it a great strategic and political move, but he actually had feelings for her—strong ones. He might even call it love, though he knew how seldom that occurred. His brother Alexis, for one, would marry for advantage. Kings weren’t afforded the luxury of love.
How is your family, Apostolos? I hope all are well.
"All are well, blessings to Athena. My son is married now and lives not far from our home. But come now, Emmanouel, I’m sure you’ve not the slightest bit of interest in Simonides. Are you, perhaps, asking after a particular member of my household? Someone who hasn’t stopped talking about you since your last trip here, though she claims only a faint interest. The older man chuckled at catching him completely off guard.
I believe you are most concerned about the well-being of my daughter, Althea. Are you not?"
Truth be told, Senator—
Aha! And now comes my formal title. You must really be after something. I would have thought you’d be promised in marriage by now. Is that not so?
I escaped that duty, thanks to my older brother, soon to be king. There is no other woman in my thoughts. Althea, sir, has enchanted me beyond words. I would marry her, with your leave.
Apostolos scratched his chin and scrunched his brow. Marriage I cannot agree to. It is against our laws for an Athenian to marry a foreigner, and the penalties are severe. Since you are a diplomat, I assumed you would be aware of this. The king has never made an exception for an Athenian to marry a foreigner. Ever.
"Practice calling me son. There’s a first time for everything."
I would think very carefully, Atlantian. There are few things as foolish as a war fought over a woman.
Very true, I suppose. Very true.
* * *
Tonight was a night for nothing nearly as serious as marriage proposals and trade deals. It was one of food, wine, and debauchery—courtesy of King Cecrops. Many of the senators’ daughters were present, spinning and weaving, talking and laughing together, and dressed in their finest silk and jewelry, adding even more beauty to the lavishly adorned, cavernous room. Boys painted gold and holding lit torches stood like statues on pedestals, chasing away the darkness. Never did Emmanouel have to ask for his cup to be filled with diligent stewards at hand to keep the wine flowing.
You’ve been present most of the evening and have yet to speak to me. A girl could get the impression you’ve been avoiding her.
Hot breath and a nip on his ear made him grateful for his spacious tunic. Instantly hard, Emmanouel turned to find Althea’s eyes filled with lust, gazing right into his. His heart leapt at the closeness of her. He breathed in deeply to smell the lilies that fragranced her coppery hair and caught her heart-shaped face in his enormous hands. Althea! My sensuous sea nymph. You look good enough to eat.
She took his plate and cup and tossed them aside, planting her svelte body right in his lap, where she couldn’t possibly mistake his feelings for her. A curious brow raised and lowered. I see you’ve missed me.
Very much.
She slapped playfully at his chest. Then why avoid me? I was about ready to sulk home alone. So tell me, Atlantian: Why are you avoiding me after all the time we’ve spent reading, walking, talking, kissing…
He shifted her off his lap and onto the pillow next to him and lowered his voice so only she could hear. "It is exactly because I’m Atlantian that I must, and I’m sure you knew that when we first kissed. Naughty girl. Keeping such knowledge from me even as we lay together."
Oh, that silly old law?
She brushed it off like it was of little consequence.
That silly old law could cause us serious problems should we take our dalliance any further.
She pouted and all he wanted to do was suck on her full lips and kiss her until she passed out. Then let’s just…dally. I miss you. I miss your lips and your hips and—
He placed a finger on her mouth to stop her from saying more. I miss you too. So much. But it wouldn’t be right or fair to either of us. I would want what I couldn’t have. You’re of marrying age, and I’m sure some handsome Athenian man is dying to make you his own.
He won’t be you.
This was no act, no drama. She looked truly dejected. Her eyes reddened and she sniffled. I have to go. There should be no sadness at a festival. Enjoy, Emmanouel. Know my heart is yours always.
With that, she ran off. As much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn’t go after her. It was wrong to trifle with her emotions, knowing their relationship could go no further. And what of his emotions?
Steward! More wine!
He would drink himself into such oblivion he couldn’t possibly dream about the girl he could never have.
* * *
"You give us what we need; then we give you what you need. I do believe we have ourselves an agreement, Prince Emmanouel of Atlantis. With this deal, may our two cities prosper!"
With flourish, King Cecrops used his stylus and stamp to imprint his name and seal into the formal trade agreement between their two cities. Cheers erupted throughout the stone courthouse. This calls for a celebration! And you, Prince of Atlantis, shall join me at my table this night!
I would be honored, Your Highness.
The throngs of people dispersed across the Agora and to their homes to ready themselves for the grand feast. At last, there was only Apostolos and Emmanouel. Congratulations, Prince. It is a grand feat you performed here this day.
And not without many months of slaving over the details. I thank you. You’ve been a stalwart supporter of these negotiations since the beginning.
It had its merits, even in its infancy. It was only those staunch hardliners who will never like foreigners who made it so difficult.
Emmanouel couldn’t stop himself from asking, And how is your daughter this morn?
Downright miserable.
I’m sorry, my friend. This was not my intention. Had I known of the marriage law—
No, no! I thank you!
The senator laughed. It shows me I was right to put my faith in you. You are wise and serious about politics.
I’m not going to lie. It’s hurting me too.
Ah, you’ll get over her. You’ll find a lovely Atlantian woman to suit your needs, just like Althea’ll be married off to the right Athenian man. It is as it should be.
My head agrees with you, but it doesn’t make my heart hurt any less.
A few more years in politics and that’ll change.
Emmanouel shrugged, doubtful that he’d ever feel so nonchalant about women. The two men walked on in amiable silence.
Suddenly a group of wild dogs came toward them, running and barking like mad.
What’s the matter with them?
Emmanouel asked hurriedly.
Do you feel that? It’s like the earth is rolling beneath my feet. What’s happening?
Emmanouel felt sick to his stomach too, and his knees were wobbly, as though he were on board a ship rocking in rough seas. He looked worriedly at Apostolos, who appeared as perplexed as he. Then came a rumble so loud, he thought for sure Zeus and Hades had let loose the monsters in Tartarus. The ground beneath him again shook wildly, and he felt like a drunkard trying to walk about. He stumbled to the ground while the older man beside him fell to his knees and cried out in pain and fear.
My daughter!
Emmanouel cupped his ear. What? Too loud! Can’t hear!
Althea!
Stay. I’ll go.
Chapter Two
Emmanouel tried to get up, but he was stayed by the strong shakes that rolled through and wouldn’t let up. Birds flew into the air in a frenzy with no pattern, no direction, crashing into each other. Horses whinnied and ripped away from their harnesses while all manner of animals raced around aimlessly, as frightened as the people who scrambled on their hands and knees screaming in the streets.
As the quaking ceased, Emmanouel found his feet and ran toward Apostolos’s house. Minor rolling continued, creating small cracks in the dirt road. He dodged boulders in his path—once monumental statues of the gods and goddesses—but the buildings in the Agora stood strong. The only thing on his mind was Althea, and he prayed she was safe.
Althea! Althea, where are you? Althea!
As he sprinted down her street, he found her wandering about, shouting his name and her father’s.
Relief warred with despair as he approached. She resembled Athena sculpted from the whitest of marbled stone. Dust and dirt completely coated her disheveled hair and her soft skin, except for the streaks of tears staining her cheeks. Althea! Thank the gods you’re all right.
He picked her up and embraced her, refusing to let go until she spoke.
Emmanouel, is it really you?
She leaned back in his arms and cupped his cheeks with trembling hands as her waterlogged, terror-filled eyes looked into his for reassurance.
Yes, it’s me, my love.
Where is my father? What’s happening to us? I’m so frightened!
Shh, it’s going to be okay.
He nestled her head under his chin and stroked her hair, hoping to soothe her as he soothed himself with the weight of her in his arms. I’m here now. Your father is safe back at the Agora. Are you hurt?
He eased her back down on her feet, but held her hands in his own.
I fell a couple of times. I think I bit my lip, but I’m not really hurt. Please take me to my father.
Of course. I warn you, though—there are many obstacles in our way.
I’m ready. As long as you’re with me and he’s all right, I can handle anything.
She swiped her tears away and smiled up at him.
That’s my brave girl.
He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the cheek, noting the growing swell of her bottom lip.
They walked together in silence, hand in hand. She stopped suddenly and grabbed his arm. Emmanouel, I know your home is not so very far from ours. If we felt this, do you suppose Atlantis felt it too?
It’s very possible. Come on. Let’s reunite you with your father. Then I’ll check on my men. We must prepare to leave in the morning.
Oh! I see him up ahead! Father! Father!
She tore away from his hold and broke into a run, falling to her knees to embrace the older man.
Emmanouel watched, his racing heart finally slowing to a normal rhythm as father and daughter held onto each other for dear life. A yearning for his own family sat like a boulder on his chest, and worry seeped into the nooks and crannies of his mind. Althea had a point. Something this powerful could have easily reached Atlantis—no matter where it began. What would be waiting for him upon his return?
Arm in arm, the senator and his daughter approached, rousing him from his musings.
We’re ready to go home now, though I can’t imagine what we’ll find,
she said.
We’ll know shortly, won’t we?
* * *
The sun had set and the Athenians had settled back into their homes, or others’ homes. But who would actually get any sleep was anyone’s guess. Emmanouel sat by a window overlooking the senator’s courtyard. The home had survived the quake, though it had left a mess of broken pottery and furniture in its wake. The house was now quiet, the senator having been called away to an emergency meeting.
Emmanouel’s eyes searched the stars for answers, praying for the well-being of his family. Stephanos and the ship’s crew were safe and preparing an early-morning departure.
A warm, tender hand touched his shoulder, and he reached up to cover it with his own, knowing the morning to come would be bittersweet.
Althea’s voice, usually strong and self-assured, floated in the air with the fragility of a butterfly’s wings. I know you have to leave. And I know you can’t take me with you. But we have tonight. And after a day like today, we both could use some comfort. Hold me. Love me, Emmanouel. Please say you will.
Her hazel eyes sparkled with fresh tears waiting to come crashing down her cheeks with the next blink.
He said nothing but stood and embraced her, responding with a kiss so fervent, he hoped it would convey the depth of his love. She tasted of longing and love, and he wanted her to know, without a shadow of a doubt, just how he felt about her. With effort, he relinquished her lips and took a step back.
When I didn’t know if you were safe, I thought I’d go mad with fear. Althea, I’ll take you any way I can get you, for as long as I can. Marriage or not. In secret, if we must. I can’t go on without knowing you are somehow mine.
She flung herself into his arms and he swung her about, then carried her to her bedroom where he planned on living a lifetime in one night. He unpinned her cloak and let it drop to the floor. Then, as she purred her delight, he layered kisses upon her neck, collarbone, and shoulder while peeling away her tunic. Finally, he untied and unwound the strophion shielding her voluminous breasts. She stood before him, naked and open.
Come to me, my dearest. Make love to me until I forget this world exists but for you and me.
He shucked his own tunic, showing just how ready he was to meet her request. I am your willing servant. Anything you wish, I will grant it.
You once said I looked good enough to eat…
He wiggled his eyebrows and flashed a wicked smile, then kneeled down before her. Grabbing her behind one knee, he rested it on his shoulder and feasted to his heart’s content until she cried out his name and collapsed on the bed. It was all he could do to keep from climaxing too soon. He thrust into her slow and deep, only increasing the pace when she slapped him in frustration.
Faster, faster! Yes!
She moaned and groaned and cried out his name.
He came right along with her cries, fell to one side, and gathered her up in his arms. The rest of the night, they spent dozing and making love, never caring if her father had returned from his meeting. His room was on the opposite side of the huge villa. Apostolos had likely never hear a thing.
* * *
The morning brought stark reality to the senator’s house.
Althea, wake up, love. The sun is rising and I must leave.
No, it’s just the full moon, silly. It’s not the sun. You need not leave.
She curled in closer to his body and tangled her legs with his.
He chuckled lightly and kissed her head. As much as I wish it were true, the moon has long since gone to sleep. Your father should be getting up as well, if he went to bed at all. I must get dressed and gather my things.
Father,
she grumbled and kissed his chest. Yes, it wouldn’t be wise to get caught. He’s already laid down the law with me. But it’s been so lovely.
She sighed, stretched, and released him from her sensual web.
Emmanouel put on his clothes and hurried across the expansive hallway to his room hoping not to run into—
Need I ask where you’re coming from? No, I don’t suppose I do.
Ap—
The senator held up a hand to squelch any explanation. No, no. Let me paint a picture and correct me if I’m wrong. She was distraught last night, and you were there to comfort her. The two star-crossed lovers could no longer hold back. Despite it all, no matter the consequences, you two made love. Oh, one final thing. You completely disregarded my wishes, my request to leave each other alone, and my desire to keep you two apart. Am I right?
I won’t deny it.
Apostolos sighed, looking like he’d aged twenty years overnight. A mixture of anger and solemnity shadowed his face. It seemed as though he was at war with himself, debating pros and cons, weighing possible outcomes. Emmanouel might as well have been invisible.
It’s like this, young prince,
he blurted abruptly, becoming the angry father looking to salvage his daughter’s honor. You went against my directive and you’ve likely ruined my daughter for any other man.
Yes. All that is true.
But you love her? And she loves you?
Yes. That is also true.
"Well, you can’t marry her here. But, you will take her with you—today, on your ship back to Atlantis. Once there, you are to marry her as soon as possible. For all we know, she could yet be carrying your child."
I understand.
Emmanouel
—Apostolos’s voice softened—I have no other daughters, and with her mother resting with the goddesses, well, Althea is my light and my salvation. I am trusting all of that into your care. Don’t disappoint me, or by the Gods, I will personally start a war over this woman, despite what I may have said to you earlier.
I will live each day honoring you and this gift you have bestowed upon me. She will know no sadness for the rest of her days.
Well, then, it’s settled. I’ll let her know and have the staff ready her things. I know you wish to leave as soon as possible. Athens will be spending the next couple of weeks cleaning up. We may have need of Atlantian goods. I will send word when we have a full assessment.
We will help in any way we can. Thank you, Apostolos.
He reached a hand out and found himself embraced by the senator instead.
* * *
After a tearful good-bye and more tears as the ship left its mooring, Althea settled herself on a stack of blankets at the stern of the ship, her cloak wrapped around her. She sat there for hours on end, not moving, just looking out at her past, Emmanouel figured. He considered her melancholy mood as he stood watching her from the main mast. It wouldn’t do to bring back a sulking bride. He approached carefully, mindful of all they’d been through just the day before.
My love, wouldn’t you rather sit at the bow? It has the better view.
She shook her head and sniffled. He plunked down beside her and pulled her into his lap. She rested her head against his shoulder.
I know your family, your home, is back there, but your future is with me in Atlantis. As my princess. I thought this would make you as happy as it makes me.
She peered up at him. "I am happy about spending the rest of my life with you. I couldn’t be happier. It’s just that it’s all so sudden. I know what I’ve done—what we’ve done—is wrong. As much as I wanted this to be so, my father meant it as a punishment. It changes everything because I know I disappointed him. If only I could go back and apologize."
You’ve nothing to apologize for. We met, we fell in love, and we’re getting married. Athens should apologize for its asinine marriage law. When I arrived the other day, ignorant of the law, I asked for your hand in marriage. It nearly killed me when your father refused. But he has seen the inevitability of our union. We should be thrilled to have his blessing and thrilled we weren’t thrown in jail. Now that the trade agreement has been finalized, I’ll need to make trips over the next months and years to keep our ties strong. You, of course, should come with me. You could visit with your family. Would that make you happy?
Oh, yes! That would be wonderful.
She smiled for the first time since they left Athens. He leaned in to kiss her as he caressed her cheek with his thumb. He loved those cheeks that dimpled when she gazed upon him.
We should be close to Atlantis by now. Come with me to the bow and see how glorious it looks as we approach.
All right, my husband-to-be, I will join you. No more crying, and if I do, they will be happy tears.
Good.
He stood with her still in his arms and trudged all the way to the bow. I was right. Look! There it is: Atlantis!
He set her down and pointed to the harbor that had become visible. He took out his spyglass to get a better view.
I see it!
She clapped her hands.
Oh no, no! This can’t be happening!
He looked out with his naked eye, then brought the glass back up again. No, no, no, no, no!
His hands shook so badly, he dropped the damned thing. Why aren’t we feeling anything out here?
He shook his head in bewilderment.
Emmanouel, what on earth is wrong?
She picked up the spyglass, looked through, and gasped at seeing the black smoke and gray, billowing plumes rising in the air. "How can the mountain be on fire? Wait, are they…I think they are. Emmanouel, the buildings are falling! One by one! Oh my sweet goddess! Is the earth shaking again? What have we done to anger the gods so?