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“Eagle-bearer.” Thaletas rose from his desk as Alexios sauntered into the chamber. “It’s good to see you.”
“Don’t call me that,” Alexios said as he slouched into a spare chair. “It makes me feel as though Ikaros is the one behind all my exploits.” He looked around the piled correspondence on Thaletas’ desk with an air of amusement. “Keeping busy, I see.”
“Busy enough.” Alexios looked… good. He was dressed in Spartan armour, embossed and burnished to a gold sheen, his sleeves sharp-tongued scales that overlapped over powerful biceps. There was a new blade at his hip and a new bow at his back. New scars, too, fading over his arm, just above his bracers. “What brings you back to the Silver Islands?” Thaletas asked, trying not to make it look visibly like he was gawking.
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