Ankyra Sound he beat her with a belt once, ‘cause she cried

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He commits her name to careful memory, tongue rolling silently over each syllable. Raleska, he repeats. I am Eurycrates L-- He pauses, wondering if it even matters any more. What would a girl know of his family name? What would anyone here know of it?
It is time to put the old formalities aside, for this is a new world with no use for them.
Eurycrates, he says again, firmer this time. I am new here. He falls silent for a breathless moment, looking off toward the sea again. Neither of them are comfortable with each other, and while that may change with time, it does not make the present any less awkward. Eurycrates inhales, long and deep, his chest heaving with the act.
Then he stares at her again, face impassive. What is your desire? he asks, not knowing how abrupt and confusing this may sound to a child who was not born within Lacedaemon. There, it is a common enough question to a youngster--What do you aspire to be? But does she know what she wants?
Does anyone, really?

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