Melia’s laughter faded, but the smile stayed. She looked at Yiannis with something close to guilt, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. It softened her expression just enough to make it look like an apology, even if she was still amused by what she had seen.

“Since you’re here,” she said, shifting her attention as if nothing had happened, “why don’t you take him to the port. There’s an open market today. He should see it.”

Yiannis blinked, caught between relief and suspicion. “Now?”

“Now,” Melia replied, too easily.

Hestia leaned back, clearly entertained. “That’s a good idea. It’s too nice a day to stay inside.” She glanced at Charles, then back at Yiannis, her smile turning sharper. “You should make the most of the heat. Maybe even go for a swim.”

She added a small wink that didn’t go unnoticed.

Yiannis turned red almost instantly. “Auntie—”

Charles, beside him, went still. “Swim?”

Melia nodded, as if the suggestion made perfect sense. “Yes. The water’s calm this time of year.”

Charles hesitated, then spoke more quietly. “I don’t know how.”

That caught Yiannis off guard more than anything else had so far. “You can’t swim?”

Charles shook his head once, not embarrassed, just stating it.

Melia didn’t seem concerned. “Then Yiannis can teach you.”

Yiannis choked slightly on nothing.

Charles glanced at him, then back at Melia. “Would that be appropriate.”

Melia waved the concern away. “Of course. It’s just swimming.” She paused, then added, as if remembering something, “Bring Willahelm along if it makes you more comfortable.”

That seemed to settle it.

Not long after, they were walking toward the port, the path busy with people moving in the same direction. The air shifted as they got closer, filled with voices, movement, the smell of food carried on the breeze. Stalls lined the edges, each one offering something different, something loud enough to draw attention.

Yiannis took the lead without thinking, pointing things out as they passed. He didn’t rush, but he didn’t slow either, finding a pace that let Charles take everything in without getting lost in it.

“This one’s good,” he said at one stall, handing over a small portion without waiting for agreement. “Try it.”

Charles did.

The taste was unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. He nodded once, which seemed to satisfy Yiannis more than it should have.

They moved from one place to another, stopping when something caught Yiannis’s interest, continuing when it didn’t. Willahelm followed a step or two behind, silent as always, his attention split between the surroundings and Charles. He didn’t interfere, but he didn’t drift far either.

At some point, the noise of the market gave way to something quieter. The edge of the port opened toward the water, where the crowd thinned and the sound of the sea came through more clearly.

Yiannis slowed.

He gestured ahead, not looking directly at Charles. “People swim over there.”

Charles followed the direction of his hand. The water stretched out, calm enough to reflect the light without breaking it. A few people were already there, moving in and out without hesitation.

He felt it before he reacted. Not fear exactly, but something close to uncertainty, unfamiliar enough to catch his attention.

“I see,” he said.

Yiannis glanced at him then, just for a second. “It’s not hard. Once you get used to it.”

Charles nodded, though the motion was more acknowledgment than agreement.

Behind them, Willahelm had stopped just far enough to give space, close enough to hear if needed. He caught fragments of the conversation, enough to understand where it was going, but not enough to interrupt without reason.

In front of them, the water stayed still, waiting in a way that didn’t ask anything but didn’t offer comfort either.

Yiannis shifted his weight slightly. “We don’t have to,” he said, quieter now. “If you don’t want to.”

Charles looked at the water again, then back at him.

“It’s fine,” he said.

He didn’t sound convinced.

But he didn’t step back either.

Willahelm had been told ahead of time, so he came prepared in the way he always did. He carried a folded mastodeton for Charles, clean and simple, something that would fit the place without drawing attention. It was a small thing, but thoughtful. Charles took it without comment, already used to the way Willahelm anticipated what he might need before he asked.

There had been a time, Willahelm remembered, when Charles didn’t care much for covering himself. Back in his father’s lands, it had been normal enough. Practical, even. But that changed as he grew older. Not out of modesty, but because he kept getting himself into situations where dirt, oil, and whatever else he worked with ended up on his skin. Since then, he preferred having something between him and the mess.

Yiannis, on the other hand, had no such hesitation.

He moved with the ease of someone who had never been taught to second-guess his own body. There was no awkwardness in the way he undressed, no pause to consider how it might look to someone else. It was natural to him, the same way breathing was. Even Willahelm, who tried to keep his attention elsewhere, found himself caught off guard for a brief moment before deliberately looking away.

Charles wasn’t as quick. He had been sitting, focused on removing his sandals, his attention lowered. When Yiannis spoke, asking if he was ready, Charles looked up without thinking.

The moment stretched just long enough to register, his face ended up just inches away from a large, sun-kissed.. radish.

Yiannis realized it a second too late.

He stiffened, a flicker of awareness crossing his face as the situation caught up with him. “Ah—” He turned slightly, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that felt unusually unsure for him. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to—” He stopped, then tried again. “I forgot you’re not… used to this.”

Charles didn’t answer right away. His expression stayed composed, but there was a faint flush that hadn’t been there before. It lingered longer than anything else he had shown since arriving.

“It’s fine,” he said eventually, though his voice came out quieter than usual.

Yiannis nodded, still a little off balance from the misstep, then stepped toward the water as if giving him space would fix it.

Charles followed after a moment.

The sand shifted under his feet as he moved, the sound of the water growing clearer with each step. The earlier stillness returned to him, but not completely. Something about the moment stayed, faint but present, like a detail he couldn’t quite file away.

Yiannis waded in first, turning back once the water reached his knees. “It’s not cold,” he said, like that might help.

Charles stepped in after him.

The water felt different than he expected. Not just in temperature, but in the way it moved around him, resisting and giving at the same time. He paused, adjusting, his focus narrowing to the sensation.

Yiannis watched him carefully now, the earlier ease replaced with something more attentive. “Just take it slow,” he said. “You don’t have to go far.”

Charles nodded once.

Behind them, Willahelm remained close enough to see, far enough not to intrude. His gaze stayed steady, not on the water, but on Charles.

Yiannis stayed close as they moved a little deeper, guiding Charles with a steady grip on his hands. The water reached higher now, shifting around them in a way that made balance harder to keep. Charles followed his lead, careful but tense, his focus fixed on not losing footing.

“Try moving your legs,” Yiannis said. “Slow. Like this.”

Charles attempted it, awkward at first, the motion uneven. Each time Yiannis loosened his hold, even slightly, Charles reacted without thinking. His hand tightened, pulling him closer again, seeking something solid to anchor himself to.

“Wait—” Yiannis started, but didn’t pull away.

Charles adjusted, trying again, but the pattern repeated. Let go, then reach back. It became less about the water and more about staying steady. His grip shifted without intention, brushing where it hadn’t before, then correcting, then missing again.

Yiannis went still for a second, caught between saying something and letting it pass. “You’re fine,” he said instead, though his voice had changed just enough to notice.

Charles paused, his attention flickering. There was something unfamiliar in the moment, not coming from the water, not from the movement. Something else. It caught him off guard more than the loss of balance.

He didn’t step back.

Instead, he adjusted again, slower this time. “Is this… alright?” he asked, not fully clear what he meant, but aware enough to ask.

Yiannis nodded quickly, maybe too quickly. “Yeah. Just—focus on the water.”

Charles turned slightly, following the instruction. “Hold here,” he said, guiding Yiannis’s hands to his waist with a kind of practical certainty, like it was the simplest solution.

Yiannis hesitated, then did as asked.

“Like this?” he said.

Charles nodded once and tried again, moving his arms the way Yiannis had shown him. The motion came easier now, supported, more controlled. The water still resisted, but less than before.

For a moment, it worked.

Then Yiannis’s grip tightened without warning.

It wasn’t enough to stop him, just enough to shift the balance again. Charles glanced back, catching the slight change in his expression, the way his shoulders had tensed.

“You okay?” Charles asked.

Yiannis exhaled, short and uneven. “Yeah. Just—keep going.”

Charles studied him for a second longer, then turned back to the water.

This time, when he moved, it felt different.

Not easier.

Just… something.