Chapter incest
Helenos woke up again.
Was it the twentieth?
The thirtieth?
Or maybe the hundredth time this damn bird had chirped in his ear?
Helenos did not care.
Counting was for people who had a future, or at least a past they could remember without getting a migraine.
He had neither.
The memories of his previous deaths were not worth looking at.
No… it was important…
No. It wasn’t
…it wasn’t important… yes it wasn’t
He sat up on the marble bench.
The sun hit his face.
It was annoying.
"Prince Helenos? My Lord?"
Thalia.
Again.
"Water, My Lord?"
Helenos looked at the cup.
In one life, he’d slapped it away.
In another, had drink it normally.
In this one, he just yawned.
A wide, cat-like yawn that stretched his small, perfectly shaped jaw.
He now had a way of not leaving Mycenae.
But he had forgotten the important stuff he had learned during his lifes.
The pain of the spear in his thigh? Gone.
The taste of the poisoned tea? An aftertaste.
The terror of the cliff? Just a bad dream.
Okay, Helenos, do not experience a painful death.
That was the only rule written on the blank slate of his brain… why?
He did not remember. But he did… did not care.
That was the reason why he had forgotten about his info.
Pain took up too much space in his brain.
It was inefficient.
Well, he didn’t care that much.
He had infinite lives!
What could go wrong?
Wait… doesn’t me having infinite lives mean that I get… to die infinitely?
No no no, Helenos, you don’t get to think about that!
Yes… I don’t need to care about that.
Helenos still remembered one info he learned during his… last… yes, last regression.
My mother is a lolicon.
Leda, the great Queen of Mycenae, the woman who held herself with the dignity of a marble column, had a secret.
A dirty, sticky little secret that Helenos had stumbled upon when he’d tried to be a "burden" in that one life.
She didn't just love him because he was her son.
She didn't just value him because he was a political asset.
She lusted over children.
specifically, beautiful, helpless children who depended on her for every breath.
She had been eyeing them since she was fourteen, suppressing it under layers of royal duty and gold embroidery.
And Helenos, in his infinite wisdom and lack of shame, will give him and his body to Leda.
Yes. Do it Helenos.
Yes… I got a plan.
"My Lord?" Thalia asked, her voice trembling slightly.
The Prince was smiling.
It wasn't a nice smile.
"Thalia," Helenos chirped, his voice sweet as poisoned honey. "I don't want water."
He hopped off the bench.
His small sandals slapped against the stone.
"I want to see Mother."
"The Queen is with the generals, My Lord. She gave strict orders—"
"Thalia," Helenos interrupted, tilting his head.
He widened his eyes.
"I had a scary dream. I need mother."
Thalia froze.
The order was strict, yes. But the Prince... the Prince was… cute.
"I... I will take you to the door, My Lord."
"Good girl."
He didn't wait for her. He walked—no, he skipped—toward the palace.
The halls of Mycenae were cold and imposing, filled with the scent of old war and new money.
Helenos navigated them by instinct.
He reached the heavy oak doors of the council chamber.
He could hear voices inside.
Leda’s voice, sharp and commanding.
General’s voice voice, arguing about grain routes.
Standard boring politics. The kind of stuff that got people killed for copper coins.
Helenos didn't knock.
Knocking was for people who respected boundaries.
He pushed the doors open.
They were heavy, but he put his little shoulder into it, grunting dramatically.
Creaaaaak.
The room fell silent.
Ten generals, scars and all, turned to look.
Clytemnestra stopped mid-sentence, her hand hovering over a map.
And at the head of the table, Leda.
She looked tired.
Her crown sat heavy on her brow.
She looked like a woman who needed a drink, or a war, or... a loli
Helenos ran.
He didn't run like a prince. He ran like a toddler who had just seen a ghost.
He stumbled, he flailed, he made his breath hitch in a perfect, pathetic sob.
"Mother♡”
He ignored the generals.
He ignored his sister.
He launched himself at his mother.
Leda stood up, alarmed. "Helenos? What is the meaning of—"
He didn't let her finish. He collided with her legs, wrapping his small arms around her waist, burying his face in the soft, expensive silk of her tunic.
"They're coming!" he wailed, muffling his voice against her stomach. "The bad men! They want to take me! They said I'm too pretty!"
The generals shifted uncomfortably.
A boy of seven should not be interrupting a war council.
But Leda didn't push him away.
Helenos felt it.
The slight hitch in her breath.
The way her hand instinctively went to his hair—not to push him back, but to pet him.
Her fingers lingered on the nape of his neck, tracing the soft skin there.
"Hush, child," Leda said, her voice dropping an octave. "No one is taking you. You are in the safest place in the world."
"But they said..." Helenos looked up. He let one single, perfect tear roll down his cheek. He made his lower lip tremble. "They said you would sell me. Because I'm just a thing."
He dug his fingers into her hip.
He pressed his small body closer to hers, violating every protocol of the court.
He was making her feel his body.
A fragile, terrified, beautiful pet that needed a master.
He saw the pupil of her eye dilate. Just a fraction.
[Target lock confirmed. The subject is responding to the stimulus of 'absolute dependency'. The moral inhibitor is weakening due to stress and the visual input of the 'precious object' in distress.]
Disgusting old hag.
But hey, if it keeps me off the boat to Sparta, I’ll sit in her lap and call her Mommy Dearest until the cows come home.
"I will never sell you," Leda whispered.
She wasn't looking at the generals anymore.
She was looking at him.
At his tear-stained lashes.
At his parted lips. "Who told you such lies?"
"The shadows," Helenos breathed. He reached up, his small hands grabbing the fabric of her bodice, pulling himself up so she had to bend down. "Mother... can I sleep in your bed tonight? The shadows are scary. I need... I need you to hold me tight. So tight I can't breathe."
The silence in the room was thick enough to choke on.
Clytemnestra made a noise of disgust.
"Mother, he is seven. He needs discipline, not coddling."
Leda snapped her head toward her daughter.
The look in her eyes wasn't motherly. It was the look of a dragon guarding a pile of gold.
"He is distraught, Clytemnestra!" Leda hissed. "Dismiss the council. Get out. All of you."
"But the grain routes—" a general started.
"OUT!" Leda screamed.
The men scrambled.
Clytemnestra glared at Helenos, her eyes narrowing.
She suspected something.
She always did.
But she didn't know the what helenos wanted.
She thought her brother was a brat.
She didn't know he was a prostitute selling his childhood for a few more years of life.
The doors closed.
Helenos was alone with the Queen.
He buried his face in her stomach again to hide his smirk.
Hook, line, and sinker.
"Oh, my poor, sweet angel," Leda cooed, lifting him up.
He was getting too big to be carried, but she didn't care.
She hoisted him onto her hip, her grip tight, possessive.
Her hand smoothed down his back, resting a little too low, a little too firm.
"You are mine," she murmured into his ear, her breath hot. "My beautiful, perfect boy. I won't let anyone have you. Not Menelaia. Not the gods. You stay right here... with Mother."
Helenos rested his head on her shoulder. He looked at the empty map on the table.
Sparta could wait.
The war could wait.
He had a mother to tame.
And I'm going to enjoy every twisted second of it, he thought, closing his eyes as his mother carried him toward the royal chambers. After all, what's a little incest between legends if it saves your skin?
"I love you, Mother," he lied, his voice syrupy sweet.
"I know," she whispered back, her voice thick with a hunger that had nothing to do with love. "I know."
***
God I got a bit more experience with a r15 scene
Well, thank you for reading and have a wonderful, happy, and calm night sleep on your bed forever in your life!
I Love You!!!!
