"Step forward, whoever had turned their backs in the previous war." The warrior general stood with his chest puffed, hands crossed behind in a stern pose. His narrowed gaze skimmed over the rows of men, who stood whispering amongst themselves.

"I said, NOW!" he roared.

Ten to fifteen of them were pushed forward by fellow warriors as they stood as straight as possible, trying not to fiddle in nervousness.

Their general, Fartaxerxes, had become quite strict in the past few days.

"Turning your back in a war is the greatest cowardice a warrior can ever show. Are you aware of that?" He walked in front of the row of men as their heads hung low in shame.

"I've asked for something. Are You Aware?!"

"Y- Yes, my Lord," they stuttered.

"Good. At least you aren't a complete loon," he patted a random man's shoulder, making him squirm.

"Since we have vowed to be an ally of Alexander, we'll be helping him in the battle of Gaugamela," he paused to gauge their reaction, then continued,

"And fifteen of you will be sent without a back armour, just so you don't turn your backs at the enemy's face!" he announced, grinning at the sweaty face of the defaulters.

Oh well, that was Alexander's dialogue he had copied.

Everyone was pestering a man, who, after a while of being nagged, stepped forward. A defiant gaze set on his face, probably from the courage he got from his colleagues.

"My Lord, sincere apologies, but... Would you join this battle with us?"

Fartaxerxes' stomach churned at the question. He hadn't taken part in any battles till now.

Truth was, it won't be two minutes on the battlefield, and he would be slain to pieces. After all, the war wasn't a fencing competition he could win. It was a game with no rules.

While here he was, acting like a warrior boss.

I would join a battle only when I intend to go back to my century idiot, he thought with a snort.

"And who will guard the frontiers here?" He acted as if the question didn't affect him.

"Are you aware of the camps set up by the Persian satraps at our border?" The poor soldier had lost all confidence in this serious issue. Now he wanted to vanish from the general's sight.

"It would take them half a day to capture our fortress. Would you like it if they made your wives a war prize, while you fought away from your homeland?!" Fartaxerxes' voice rose another octave, making the man shrink.

"All right, no more foolish questions now. Back to practising the new tactics!" He declared, quietening possible criticism against him.

When everyone scattered around to train, he exhaled in relief.

Keeping up with a tough facade wasn't an easy job. Though the winters were arriving, the afternoons were still scorching hot, which had him sweating head to toe.

The warrior encampment area was located at the backside of the fortress, which had a forest. Some patches of it were cleared for the training ground, weapons and shield storage huts.

Actually, Alexander was severe when his army led him down.

Because attacking a warrior in his back wasn't allowed in a war, he'd introduced a punishment to warriors who turned their backs to avoid death, be sent without a back armour saving them.

Walking to a nearby pillar that extended out of the palace archway, he leaned against it to watch the men. Alexander's policy was a mere threat he had used to dose up the warriors.

Drowned in his thoughts of how to go about his hectic role, he didn't notice a linen-clad woman who came to stand by the pillar across from him.

Leaning, she wrapped her arms around the pillar and gently tapped her feet on the rocky pavement.

Little bells on her ankle jingled, and flashes from last night smeared Lorenzo's mind.

Some warriors sneaked a few glances at the delightful sight, but immediately recoiled, fearing the general.

You will be my ruin, kitty cat, he whispered to himself.

There was someone of more importance than this seductress. He had slipped up many times, but not now.

Without sparing a glance at the teasing princess, he rang the person who he'd sworn to be loyal to.

"Hey, baby, how's it going?" He crossed his arms, concentrating his gaze on the men in action.

"Got distracted again, poor boy?" Girlish laughter filled his head, and he sighed, leaning his head back on the pillar to close his eyes.

He had suppressed his feelings for too long that he felt miserable.

"I wish it was you who I got distracted to." he opened his eyes but refused to look at the now fuming princess.

"You miss me?" The voice asked hesitantly.

"More than my gaming console," he snickered.

The voice broke in another wave of laughter, making him chuckle along.

"Mr Swarwoski, I'm telling you, report that princess for sexual assault!"

"You know what, Cheryl? I want to kiss that smartass mouth right now," he husked, catching her off guard.

There was a brief silence accompanied by her rapid breathing. He mentally high-fived himself, thinking he'd achieved the inevitable.

To make Cheryl blush wasn't everyone's cup of tea.

"So, how's it going with The Great? He doesn't force you to do anything, right?" His voice tightened at the end.

"To be honest, he isn't interested in all this concubine stuff," Cheryl huffed. "He is laser beam focused on growing his empire, which is a good thing. Though he would occasionally visit me for his nagging mum's sake, that's it."

His frame stiffened. "Have you done it with him?"

"Done what? Ow!" realisation hit her at which she couldn't stop wheezing. "I'm a concubine after all, its a necessity." she chuckled, "What about you, huh?"

His insides curled in a red blaze, which he somehow quieted with a heavy breath. He knew the thought was silly when he was doing the same things. "Me as well," he deadpanned, furious at his hypocrisy. They were still not in an official relationship, so it wasn't like they were cheating on each other.

Still, for the life of him, he wouldn't lie to her. That's basic common sense if one wanted to lead a truthful relationship.

"I love your honesty, muah!" Cheryl made a kissy noise. "By the way, honey, you haven't spilled the beans, right?" She started cautiously. "Dunkin was close to getting wind of us that day."

"Trust me, they'll know our secret only after completing this crazy ass project," he smirked. Glancing to his right, he noticed the princess to be gone.

"Okay baby, talk to you later. Time to jot down another essay in my AI book."

'How to handle scaredy men and horny princesses'

Rubbing his wet hair to get off the water, Lorenzo entered his plush size room to rest after a heavy day's work. Tossing the towel at one corner, he walked up to his custom made throne and settled in.

Not wanting to even look at his incomplete AI book, he closed his eyes to breathe contently in a long while.

His teammates may think him to be a spoilt brat who got the palace life just by his looks, but that was far from true.

Along with this luxury came duties, which were like treading on a tightrope suspended over a cliff.

Rigorous war training, checking on spy activity, countless meetings with vicious ministers who seemed to suspect him even if he breathed the wrong way.

Also, he had to be awfully careful when opening his mouth at such meetings. Reporting only ongoing events and not something out of the history textbooks he had memorised was a task.

Not to forget that cold and calculating warlord, who he once had to attend a meeting with. He was the one to coerce him into signing the agreement with Alexander.

For the life of him, he hadn't been afraid of anyone as much as that ruler of Romanos, who had threatened him big time.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to forget that incident. Then there were these princesses and their momma queen latched onto him.

Atop this heck load of a life was his travelogue to complete.

"Fuck my life," Lorenzo grunted, rubbing his fingers on the throbbing ache that resurfaced in his temples.

He retreated his arms back into the armchair when a thin piece of cloth came around his neck. It wrapped one round from behind, but not tight enough to choke him.

"Someone ignored me today," the voice had an inbuilt pout, "And I'm veerrry sad," she dragged.

The simple solution to get rid of it was to give her what she wanted.

"What can I do for you, my noble princess?" He didn't remove the cloth, wishing nothing more than to die and get the heck out of this century.

"You can do everything to me," her breathy, rose-scented voice blew past his neck when she brought her lips to his ear.

"Ira," he called her with a flick of his fingers, unwrapping the tangled cloth from his neck.

Enthusiastically, she stepped forward with a cheeky grin, but gasped when the warrior pulled her to his lap.

Securing an arm around her waist, he tilted her chin up as her eyes clouded with the same want as his. He traced her face with his forefinger, a smooth, freckle less face that always seemed to glow in his presence.

He couldn't help but feel sorry that he won't be returning her feelings. After all, there would be one day when he'll have to leave this place.

It was better to avoid forming a relationship than breaking one.

"Wasn't last night's pleasure enough for you, love?" He curled his fingers gently around her neck and brought her close, to press his lips on the sensitive spot behind her ear. She shivered, getting accustomed to the sensation that excited her to no ends.

"Will you repeat it tonight?" She breathed out, moving her fingers through his wet hair, and placed her lips on his collarbone to leave little kisses.

He gritted his teeth to stifle the groan but couldn't when she moved her palm over his chest, which proceeded to his torso, then downwards.

"Stop, Ira," he held her hand to avoid letting it wander any down, bringing it to his mouth to leave a gentle kiss. Holding her small face in his hands, he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her like never before.

They were drowning in their equal share of lust when the door knocked savagely.

"My Lord! You are summoned to the royal court urgently!"

Lorenzo detached his mouth from hers, breathing hoarsely. Any more and he would have pushed her to the bed. Princess Ira, too breathless for anything, slumped across his chest. When she regained composure, she snarled,

"He's always interrupting us! Tonight will be his last day," she smirked.

"Calm down, love, you don't do that," he moved his hand through her dark brown hair, weaving them till her back, "Promise me, you won't do bad things," he cooed her and kissed some more, making her drown in his kisses.

Dropping her in her room, he made way for the royal court downstairs after a quick brush-up of his dishevelled state. Little did he know what awaited him there.

He entered the court in all his glory, donning a bronze-plated armour with a sword slung to his waist.

The place wasn't wide but a narrow, elongated area with the Queen's throne at the far end. Men stood in heavy armour along the two ways, leaving the midsection empty for presenting people who'd address the Queen.

Lorenzo bowed before her and walked up to the throne to stand beside it. That was his designated spot in the courtroom.

"You requested my presence, my Queen," he initiated when she couldn't wipe the grin off her face and state the matter.

"The Greeks say they can't have a female ruler," she started. And he didn't understand why was she so glad about that?

"Since we are their ally, they want a male to rule this city," she clapped her hands, "Guardsman, recite the letter sent by His Honour, Alexander."

The guard opened the scroll and began speaking.

"High regards to our beloved ally,

"The power Egyptian women hold quite impressed us Greeks, but to maintain an even Greek rule throughout our empire, we would like male rulers to control the city states. We always welcome females to be the advisors but our priority is a male ruler.

"In order to fulfil that, the most respected and able warrior of your kingdom must marry the Queen to acclaim the throne as the male ruler.

Best wishes,

Alexander."

The Queen, upon listening to the letter (probably ten times since it had arrived) relaxed back in her throne. A satisfied smile appeared on her stunning but wrinkled face.

Lorenzo's heart hammered against his chest, thinking where this was going. Cold sweat broke down his neck, making the recent bath a total failure. He only knew one thing.

His looks had fucked up pretty bad.

"Except one, there isn't a better person who can be my husband," she exclaimed.

"I would marry none other than my kingdom's warrior general, Fartaxerxes!"