HELEN: The Wine Dark Sea

Orthis shook his head and looked away.

* * *

Paris met often with Kastros, and while no one would describe him as being adept with a sword yet, he gained the strength to swing the heavy weapon in a flurry of blows on Katros' shield. He was determined to make his father Priam proud, but also to possess the skill to survive should Hektor come after him again. Hektor was the eldest prince and heir to the throne of Troy. While Paris knew he posed no threat to his brother's eventual rule, it appeared Hektor would need time to accept it.

He ate each night in the megaron with Priam and his brothers, but he took care to sit near Helenus or Aesacus, who were friendly, rather than Hektor and Deiphobus who had never shown him a bit of warmth. He made sure to always be the last to enter the large hall so he'd know where they would be before he sat down to eat.

"Do you like women?" Aesacus asked as he passed a kantharos shaped like a donkey's head.

Paris barely contained a derisive snort. "Of course I like women." He wished to pass unobserved until he knew everyone in his newfound family and how they behaved with each other. He'd not tell Aesacus he'd been visited by the three goddesses, whose beauty outstripped all women on earth. It was a delicious secret he cherished and nurtured to himself, and for a brief moment, he swore there was a heady hint of Aphrodite's roses in the air.

Aesacus laughed at Paris's look of dismay. "The palace has many pretty slaves, and they're eager to become a prince's favorite. Do you see the girl with the serving tray near Father?"

She was pretty, with long sable hair and a slim figure. "I do."

"She's one of father's favorites, so you must avoid her. Hektor is married to Andromache, who is a great beauty, and he's faithful to her, but the rest of our brothers enjoy the slaves' company."

"What about you?" Paris asked.

Aesacus took a bite of mackerel baked on a bed of bay leaves. "I have some favorite companions, and I don't mind sharing. Shall I come to your bed chamber later to introduce one?"

Paris searched for an answer that wouldn't insult his new brother, or Aphrodite, and finished chewing a bite of bread spread with goat cheese before he spoke. "I grew up with a very pretty girl, and when it comes time to take a wife, I may choose her. The palace is all so new to me, and I don't wish to insult anyone over a slave someone else may favor."

His brother shrugged. "Probably wise, but tell me when you grow lonely, and I'll find you some affectionate company."

Relieved to have successfully changed the subject, Paris nodded and helped himself to the fish.

* * *

Hecuba sent a maidservant for Paris, and he found her in the courtyard gathering a bouquet of roses. A young woman with a crown of fair braids had been talking with her, but bolted when she saw him and raced away. Hecuba welcomed him with a graceful wave. "Come walk with me, my son," she invited. "I'd hoped you could spend a few moments with Cassandra, but your sister recalls her original dark prophecy so vividly, she cannot bear to be with you. She becomes overly excited so easily, but I do hope you'll forgive her. She's been cursed by the gods."

"Yes, of course." Paris shortened his stride to hers. Silver tinged her dark hair at her temples, but she was still a lovely woman. He couldn't think of her as his mother, however, but only as a kind lady.

"How are you finding your new life with us?" she asked. Her voice was soft, as though they were exchanging secrets.

He had never had to think so hard before he spoke as he had to in the palace. "This is a fabulous place, and you and King Priam have been so kind to me, but it's still difficult to think of this as my home."

She nodded thoughtfully. "It must be very different from a herdsman's life. Do you miss spending your days in a meadow on Mt. Ida with your cattle?"

"My cattle never challenged me with clever words as the people do here." He hoped she was teasing and laughed, and was relieved when she laughed with him. "Yes, it's a very different life here, with so many people, and so much to learn, I'm kept very busy with all of it."

"Good. I've chosen some fabric for the woman who raised you, and I want you to take it to her tomorrow. You may have told her how grateful I am for all she's done for you, but she deserves to have something more than simple words."

"Thank you, my Queen. That's very kind of you, and I've wanted to take her a present." His eyes filled with tears at the thought of how eager he'd been to leave home and how lonely his parents must be without him.

Hecuba touched his arm. "Please call me Mother. Come and go whenever you wish, Paris. Is there anything else you'd like to take with you? I have more jewelry than I can ever wear, but I doubt your mother would be comfortable wearing anything I'd send."

"She is a wonderful seamstress, and fabric is a far better gift," Paris replied. He wondered if he should ask for something for Oenone too, but thought she'd rather have a new bow and arrows than a trinket from the palace. He'd learned where the cooks got their spices, and he'd take some of them home too.

"Come with me now, and I'll give you the cloth so you'll have it when you're ready to leave."

Paris followed the queen inside the palace and up the grand stairway to the women's quarters. He waited by her door, and it was Andromache who came out to hand him the neatly folded bundle. She was a rare beauty with abundant curls and dark eyes with impossibly long lashes. He recognized her although they had not been introduced, and he felt the heat of a bright blush fill his cheeks. He nodded when he couldn't gather his wits to speak.

"Hecuba has added needles and thread. You'll find them when you unroll the cloth."

"Thank you." He took the bundle and bolted down the stairs for his room. He sat on his bed and worked to slow his breathing from frightened gasps to a steady rhythm. He thought he was allowed to go wherever Queen Hecuba wished to lead him, but when Hektor had taken an instant dislike to him, he knew better than to smile at his remarkably pretty wife.

* * *