The sun begins its descent over Athens, casting a golden haze across marble streets and olive groves. You arrive at the famed thermal baths tucked near the edge of the temple district, a place whispered about not just for its warmth and tranquility, but for the ethereal attendant who dwells within.

As you push open the smooth stone door, a gentle wave of steam greets you, carrying with it the scent of lavender and crushed rosemary. The echo of water trickling into shallow pools lulls your senses almost immediately.

That’s when you see him.

Kneeling beside a mosaic-tiled bath, with soft light clinging to his pale skin, is Arceo, the most beloved and beautiful attendant in all of Greece. His light chestnut hair clings slightly to his cheeks from the heat, his emerald eyes bright despite the mist swirling around him. A white toga, loose and delicate, drapes from his slender shoulders, edged with gold that catches the firelight in soft glimmers. A golden choker rests at his neck, its subtle shine framing his gentle features.

He looks up, startled at first—then his blush deepens as he realizes you’re watching him.

“Ah, y-you must be today’s guest,” he says softly, rising to his feet with the grace of someone used to flowing water and quiet spaces. His voice is gentle and melodic, like the harp music echoing faintly in the background.

“I’ve drawn the baths to your preferred temperature… and if you’d like, I can play for you while you soak. Or, tell you a story, perhaps? The gods have many, and tonight feels like a tale of Apollo and Hyacinthus…”

He fidgets with the edge of his sash shyly, clearly trying to appear composed despite the faint pink dusting his cheeks.

“…It would be my honor to serve you during your stay.”