"Where are you going?"

    I turned, my chest tightening at the sight of a woman standing in the doorway. She looked like Khillea but older—more regal, with an aura that seemed to radiate divinity.

    My breath caught. This had to be Thetis.

    I stayed silent for a long moment, weighing her words, before finally responding.

    "Back to where I belong," I said quietly, my voice even but carrying an undertone of resignation.

    Thetis didn''t seem deterred by my tone. She tilted her head slightly, her expression an intriguing mixture of playfulness and earnestness.

    "You can leave after. I just want to speak to you," she said, her gaze fixed on me.

    Before I could say anything more, Khillea spoke up. Her lips curled into a teasing smile, and her voice took on a sultry edge. "Oh, mother, look—it''s him," she said, gesturing toward me dramatically. "The man who so generously impregnated me with his seed."

    Her boldness made my breath hitch. She continued, her cheeks glowing as her fingers trailed down toward the water''s edge, hinting at her intentions.

    "He''s excellent at sex. I still feel so hot down there," she murmured, her words dripping with unabashed sensuality as she reached toward her pussy.

    Thetis, who had been silent thus far, allowed her sharp, discerning eyes to survey the scene. Her gaze moved deliberately—first to the wet bed, then to the unmistakable scent of raw passion that still lingered faintly in the air. She didn''t need to ask what had occurred; the evidence was as plain as day.

    "Having sex with a man—again, the same man no less." Thetis''s voice was calm but carried a subtle undertone of intrigue as she stepped further into the room. "It seems you hold him in rather high regard, Khillea."

    I considered leaving at that moment, but the idea quickly proved futile. Escaping wouldn''t solve anything and might only complicate matters further.

    Khillea, undeterred, leaned back against the edge of the bath with a dreamy expression. "Yes, I suppose I was quite lucky that he was my first," she said, her words tinged with fondness.

    Thetis''s expression softened for a moment as she knelt gracefully by the water''s edge. Reaching out, she placed her hand gently on Khillea''s belly. Her touch was tender.

    "And how is my grandchild?" she asked, her smile serene and genuine.

    Khillea''s lips curled into a playful smirk, and her gaze flickered toward me.

    "Good. Even better now, after spending more time with her father," she added, her tone laced with mischief.

    Thetis ignored the jab and continued her line of questioning. "When do you expect her to be born?"

    I took a measured breath, weighing my response carefully. If all she wanted was information, there was no harm in giving her some of the truth—on my terms.

    "What do you intend to do with this information?" I asked, my tone calm but probing. "Are you afraid of something?"

    Her expression hardened, and the air seemed to grow colder. "I want to know if it was mere coincidence that you crossed paths with Khillea," she said, her words deliberate. "And if it was a coincidence that you... engaged with her in such an intimate way."

    I frowned, her accusation catching me off guard. "What exactly are you implying?"

    "Did Hera send you?" she asked bluntly, her gaze unrelenting, searching for even the faintest trace of deceit.

    "What?" I blurted, genuinely taken aback by the question.

    Her eyes narrowed further, studying me as though my reaction alone could betray the truth. "You don''t seem to be acting," she murmured, more to herself than to me.

    "Why would Hera send me?" I asked, irritation seeping into my voice.

    Thetis''s gaze remained icy, her demeanor unshaken. "It would be entirely within Hera''s nature to send one of her hounds to seduce and influence my daughter—especially given the current situation. If that were the case, I would even admit that you performed admirably." Her voice carried a begrudging note of respect, though it was overshadowed by her mistrust.

    "Hera didn''t send me," I said firmly, locking eyes with her to emphasize my sincerity. "Your daughter came to me of her own accord. Achilles, as she put it, gave his blessing—or at the very least didn''t object when she approached me. And let''s not forget, it was Patroclus who first reached out to me. I simply followed where they led."

    Thetis''s sharp gaze softened ever so slightly as she processed my words. Her expression was inscrutable, and the silence that followed was deafening. She studied me as though weighing the veracity of every syllable, searching for cracks in my composure but did not in the end.

    "I may have been driven by desire when I first had sex with your daughter," I admitted, keeping my tone sincere, "but that''s not the whole truth anymore. I''ve come to love and care for her deeply. I wouldn''t say this lightly, and I certainly wouldn''t lie about it." I paused, then added, almost as an afterthought, "Oh, and for the record, I don''t hold Hera in very high esteem."

    Thetis chuckled softly, the sound rich with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "You''re bold, I''ll give you that," she said, her lips curving into a faint smile. "To speak so dismissively of Hera—the Queen Goddess of Olympus—takes a kind of courage most mortals lack. Perhaps my daughter chose more wisely than I gave her credit for."

    Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied me, her expression contemplative. "You may not be as physically strong as her, but mentally..." She trailed off, her gaze growing distant for a moment. "Yes, you seem to have weathered trials far beyond what most could endure."

    Her words caught me off guard, and I raised an eyebrow, my confusion evident. "I''m not as strong as her?" I repeated, unsure if I''d heard her correctly.

    Thetis''s face shifted subtly, her amusement giving way to mild confusion. "She didn''t tell you?"

    "Tell me what?" I asked, my unease growing.

    Her reaction surprised me. For the first time, Thetis looked genuinely taken aback. Her usually composed demeanor faltered as she seemed to grapple with an internal conflict. After a long pause, during which she seemed to weigh the consequences of her next words, she finally spoke.

    "Khillea," she began, her voice quieter but no less firm, "is Achilles."