Thanks to his mother, Constantine felt like himself again. Everything appeared beautiful--the other villas, the trees, the mountains, the sky. Oh, and that west wind that was blowing in, caressing his face like his mother’s hand, brought him back to the serenity that he found in her presence. No screams, no harsh voices, just peace. This was his mother’s world, and although at times monotonous, it enabled him to control his anger.

Helena returned, placing trays of fresh food on the thin granite table, which was supported by gargoyle legs. She uncovered the trays; grapes, yogurt with honey, and two slices of wheat bread still warm from the oven with cheese and ham smashed in between them. She poured fresh squeezed goat milk, placing his full chalice in front of him. "Drink. It will make you big and strong."

He inhaled the food as he always did when his mother had prepared it herself. She slowly ate the yogurt, observing her precious son enjoying the meal as usual. Just as Helena brought her son serenity, Constantine brought his mother peace.

"Finish it all. You have Pankration instruction today."

Constantine stopped eating for a moment, smiling with pleasure. Pankration was his favorite subject, and Alexander his favorite instructor. Perhaps he enjoyed it so much because he got to be with other children. The fact that he excelled at Pankration was another reason he enjoyed it so much. Physical skills came easily to him. He was also glad, because this meant no language and no music lessons today—although he would gladly study those subjects daily, in exchange for arithmetic.

He thought of Amynterius and realized he was behind in his studies. His anger had subsided, and he was in a rush to return to the study chamber. He gulped down the remaining milk, then stood in front of his mother. She wiped his mouth and pointed to her cheek with a raised brow. He pecked at the exact spot she pointed to. He was full, she was satisfied, he was free to go.