"As you know, today is the last oral test of the year," Aristotle stood in front of the class, "You will answer the question "What is beauty?" Now, I know that each and every one of you may have a different look on beauty, so I will be sure to take this into account. Who will go first?"

Alexander had paled and was now sliding down into his seat, all while clutching Hephaestion's hand. He was no good at taking tests! Especially oral ones! Aristotle knew that! He whined aloud and Aristotle turned to him.

"Alexander, would you like to go first?"

He wanted to shake his head, but his body was paralyzed. He finally let go of Hephaestion's hand under their desks, and walked to the front of the class. When he was facing the class, Aristotle, who had perched himself on top of an empty desk, spoke to him.

"Just relax, Alexander. Focus on something in the room. Take a few deep breaths. Take all the time you need."

He nodded jerkily; he had been through this before.

"Beauty is-" his voice was barely a whisper, and he heard quiet laughter coming from Cassander's corner of the rom, along with the whisper, "Phillip expects him to rule? He can barely talk, let alone rule!" Aristotle looked threateningly in that direction.

"Beauty is-" he seached for something to look at, and his eyes fell on Hephaestion, sitting attentively in the middle of the class next to his empty desk. Finally he took a deep breath and began in a stronger voice, smiling at Hephaestion, "Beauty is Hephaestion. His eyes are such a blue that when I look into them, I feel I am always standing by the sea, looking out over the water. Beauty is the way his skin glistens when I wash his back. It is the way his hair just brushes the small of his back when he moves. Beauty is his shy glances and loving stares. He never fails to always be looking at me, even if I am not looking at him. Beauty is his pale flesh. Beauty is the sounds he makes when we are alone and making love," Alexander's gaze never fell from Hephaestion's face, so he was sure to see the embarrassed blush glowing on his lover's cheeks. He smiled even brighter, "Beauty is the way he blushes when he is embaressed. Beauty is the way he whispers his dreams to me. Beauty is the way his lips feel when he kisses me. And finally, beauty is the way he says my name, "Alexander."

Hephaestion, close to tears, got up and ran to the front of the classroom, only to be caught in Alexander's arms as he pressed a kiss to Alexander's mouth. And everyone, even Cassander, agreed that they were what beauty was.