For months, Leonidas remained lost in grief, barely noticing the world revolving around him. Only infant Irena's needs kept him tethered to life, even as his sorrow consumed him. Unknown to him, another had also borne witness to all that transpired, torn by conflicting loyalties—Elysia's cousin Dion.  

The Athenian diplomat had long been troubled by his kinswoman's predicament. But duty to his people had prevented aiding the star-crossed lovers more openly. Now, with Elysia lost and the fragile truce taking hold, Dion knew he could stay silent no more. Approaching Sparta's king, he revealed all that had passed between Leonidas and the late Athenian woman, neatly omitting his own role.

Word spread like wildfire. In Athens, Elysia's father was undone with grief compounded by rage—that his beloved daughter should have been seduced away from duty by their ancient enemies. He demanded the Spartan responsible be tried for violating their people's dignity. King Archidamus was left with little choice but to summon Leonidas before the magistrates.

When summoned from his mourning, Leonidas came like one already in Hades’ realm, Irena swaddled softly in his arms. Seeing her father thus brought low and knowing the cause, Alcestis wept but stood resolute by his side. The trial was brief but scathing. Despite Alcestis' plea for clemency, citing the love lost and war's tolls, sentence was passed—exile from Sparta for a season, as example against such fraternization in future.

With execution averted, all saw this as mercy. But to Leonidas it was only further desecration of the joys so selfishly taken. As he gathered what remnants of his life could be borne into the wilds, Alcestis came bearing news—Athenian riders approached the western passes, intent on blood for blood in their father's stead.

She had secured safe passage and supplies, but Leonidas must flee with all haste. Her final embrace poured all the strength of their long bond into him. Go now, and live, my dearest friend. For your daughter's sake if none else. We will meet again when storms have passed.

Thus with a heavy heart and lighter step, Leonidas fled that night beneath cover of rain and shadows, his daughter and grief his only possessions. Where the untamed lands might lead them, none could say. But in a dark world, one fragile light yet remained to guide his soul—the hope of building the future Elysia had seen in their child.