## **Contents**

Publication

Dedication

Part One

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Part Two

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Part Three

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Part Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Part Five

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Part Six

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Ill-fated Copyright 2018. Delcesca Newby

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For the patient souls who've believed in this story for so many years. Thank you so much for sticking with me all this time.

Part One

Chapter One

Cassandra shifted the quiver slung over her left shoulder into a better position, then, at a full run, chased after her brothers. Her flame-red curls fell out of the braid Polyxena had put it in that morning, and they tumbled down her back in a thick cascade. As she navigated her way down the slope toward the horse stables, she let out a peal of laughter as joy swept through her. The fresh summer wind whipped around her, and the sun warmed her coveted powder-white skin.

Her laughter alerted her brothers. The three stopped and faced her. Deiphobus, the oldest of the trio, tapped his foot in time with his irritation.

"What do you want?"

Cassandra nodded at the various weapons her brothers carried. "To come with you."

Deiphobus shook his head. "Why can't you be like the Queen or Creusa? Gods, even Polyxena knows certain activities are inappropriate."

Already tired of their age-old argument, Cassandra fought the urge to roll her eyes. "If you're worried about me looking unpresentable, I'll bathe when we're finished."

"Hunting isn't a trait your future husband will admire."

Cassandra adjusted the bow she'd stolen from Polites years ago (he had so many, he hadn't noticed). "You don't know that."

Deiphobus puffed out his chest and stepped toward his sister. "It's not something I would admire."

"Good thing I'm not going to marry you."

Cassandra caught the humored glint in her twin brother Helenus' eyes. She wanted to smile back, but instead batted her lashes and stuck out her bottom lip. Cassandra hadn't used this tactic since she was Polyxena's age, but what had worked on her brother may still stir his now-toughened heart.

"Please."

"We should let her," Helenus chimed in. A grin tugged at his mouth, and he had to turn his head so Deiphobus wouldn't see and reprimand him.

"Of course, you want her to," Polites said. He spoke from the corner of his thin lips like their mother did when she couldn't hold her tongue but hoped her comments went unobserved.

Deiphobus ignored his brothers and wagged his finger at Cassandra. "You'd only hold us up and spook the game."

"No, we both know you don't want me along because I'll make you look bad." Under her breath, Cassandra added, "Like the last three times."

Deiphobus' finger-wagging increased, and he almost hit her nose. "You've beguiled the gods."

Cassandra finally rolled her eyes. Since they were young children, Deiphobus had used the same reasoning whenever Cassandra outshined him. In truth, he refused to acknowledge she'd inherited same skills he boasted about, and that she could execute those skills as well as he did.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of a woman, favored by the gods or not, getting the better of you. What sort of man does that make you?"

Deiphobus' face reddened. "Don't push me."

"Come, prove your might."

Polites' bored expression disappeared. "Cassandra, maybe you--I think--"

Cassandra blocked out her brother's sniveling and stepped on her tiptoes to come face-to-face with Deiphobus. Her severe gaze earned a scorching glare from his hard-blue eyes, but she didn't back down. Their wills clashed like two storms meeting at sea.

"If you continue bothering me, I'll drag you back to the palace and rip out every strand of your hair," Deiphobus threatened in his cavernous voice after a lengthy, chilling silence.

"How terrifying." Cassandra poked her brother in his wide shoulders. "Your old age is making you soft."

Deiphobus grumbled an unintelligible response, brushed his unruly blond curls off his forehead, and turned away from Cassandra. He marched toward the stables. "Are you two fools coming?" he called to Helenus and Polites.

Polites shrugged. "Maybe next time," he told Cassandra before he raced after Deiphobus. His long legs quickly carried him across the vibrant grass.

Helenus shook his head. "Deiphobus is an ass. I don't want to spend the afternoon with him."

"You know you'll have fun. Go."

"No, I wouldn't feel right. The two of us should go hunt--"

"I don't want your pity to make you miss out on a good time."

Helenus stared after their older brothers. A soft sigh escaped his full lips. He realized what he'd done and wiped the longing from his elongated face.

"I don't offer out of pity," he said. Sincerity poured out of his deep-set eyes the same shade of light blue as Cassandra's--except hers had green flecks around the pupils, like their mother's.

Cassandra patted her brother's arm. "Pity was the wrong word, but we both know you should go."

Helenus chewed the inside of his cheek. "Well, I won't be out for very long. And we'll spend time together when I return."

"Great." Cassandra kissed her twin's cheek and shoved him in the direction of their brothers. "Show them up, will you?"

Helenus wrapped her in a tight hug. "Gladly." He released her and moved toward the horses but stopped a moment later. "Don't you dare go out into the forest by yourself," he warned without glancing at her.

Cassandra made a noise she hoped sounded like compliance before she sprinted across the grounds, in the opposite direction. She climbed the surrounding outer wall of the palace after tying the abundant material of her peplos above her knees and entered the forest. Cassandra moved with silence and took even breaths, like her eldest brother, Hector, had taught her. In mere heartbeats, she blended into the natural rhythm of the forest, almost as well as Hector could. Most times, Cassandra could sneak up on whatever animal she had in her sights and the creature wouldn't register her presence until too late.

Her patience and natural talent had led to many impressive kills, some of which had stunned Hector and Helenus, but Cassandra had never mentioned a word of her ability to her father. He knew of her escapades, and he'd tried on countless occasions to stop her, but he had no idea his daughter put all the men of Troy but her brothers to shame in marksmanship.

Cassandra worried what would happen if he knew, fearful of the extremes he may go to, to make her the proper princess he could use to woo enemies or strengthen already forged bonds.

She understood, and accepted, the limitations of her title. At times, though, Cassandra wished she could come back from a hunt, proud of a magnificent beast she'd triumphed over, and have her father beam at her with unembarrassed pride. In her secret heart, she longed for the pelt of an animal she'd hunted to hang in the King's game room alongside her brothers'.

Cassandra lamented this cruel fact as she crept further into the forest. Birds chased each other through the trees. Their ecstatic songs filled her ears, and she inhaled the rich scents of growth. In time, the brief glimpses of unbridled life around her brightened her mood. If Cassandra could live in here, free of the chains royalty had shackled her with, she'd have the perfect existence.

She didn't hate being a princess of Troy. She had a loving family and knew comfort only rivaled by the gods. But the knowledge her father had the power to marry her off to whomever he deemed fit, regardless of Cassandra's attraction to the man, made her think her existence to this point would one day seem no more than a dream.

What if she married an abusive man? Or a man who conducted himself no better than a pig wallowing in its own filth? How could she bare children for a man like that?

She could always serve a temple.

Cassandra frowned at the option. From what she'd seen and heard, bondage to a temple fared no better than marriage to a monster of a man.

Maybe she should sneak away in the dead of night and run as far from Troy as she could. Wherever she collapsed from exhaustion, she'd begin anew.

The idea made Cassandra smile, but she could never abandon her family. They were all she had, all she knew, and despite a couple glaring flaws, she loved them.

Movement to Cassandra's left caught her attention, and she froze. She turned to glimpse what had captured her eye and bit her tongue to stifle a gasp. Not ten paces from her stood the most massive wolf she'd ever seen. Its length was that of two adult men's height, and it possessed the stature of the largest horse in the palace's stables. It had a full coat that looked more golden than white in the sunlight falling through the leaves.

The beautiful wolf scratched at the dirt with its shiny, black nails, unaware Cassandra watched it. In an instant, the need to have it consumed Cassandra. She wouldn't return home until the creature succumbed to her superiority. And the King would display its pelt in his game room, even if Helenus had to claim the kill.

Cassandra sent silent thanks to the gods as she selected an arrow and forced her nerves to quiet. She took two deep breaths like Hector had made her do before each shot when he'd trained her. When she felt grounded and calm, drew back her bowstring.

The wolf remained ignorant of its impending doom as she released the bowstring with the confidence borne from years of practice. The arrow followed a straight path to the wolf's exposed neck and embedded into the animal's flesh. The wolf cried out with an almost human-like scream.

Cassandra prepared to shoot it a second time but stopped when the wolf's head turned in her direction. She met its eyes, two all-consuming balls of white fire. They flared a blinding red as the animal glared at her and flashed a mouthful of dangerous teeth. From the neck wound, a luminous gold liquid dripped around the arrowhead and onto the forest floor.

Her jaw dropped, and Cassandra's heart missed a beat. The wolf she thought she'd brag about tonight was anything but. In her feverish haste, she hadn't studied the creature thoroughly. She hadn't given as much thought as she should've to its abnormal size or strange coloring.

If she had, Cassandra wouldn't have been so eager to go in for the kill.

She wouldn't have attacked a god.

Chapter Two

Cassandra shook like a leaf in a gust of wind as she dropped her bow and watched with wide eyes as the wolf stood upright on its human-skull-sized back paws. Its fur rippled like water in a stream, and the outline of the beast pulsed with white light. Cassandra realized what transpired and, just in time, looked away to avoid blindness.

An unnatural warm air slammed into her as the god took a new form. The surrounding area grew quiet as a high-pitched hiss erupted from the god. Cassandra hugged herself and rocked on her heels. In her heart, she feared she wouldn't leave the forest except to take residence in the Underworld.

The heat faded an instant later, the hiss disappeared, and the sounds of the forest crept back.

Cassandra dropped to her knees before the god. "Please, I beg of you, don't do anything to harm my family. I deserve your wrath, not them. Please! Please grant me that mercy."

"Rise, mortal," the god said, his voice oddly soft, though it seemed to come from all directions.

Cassandra kept her trembling to a minimum as she rose to her feet.

"Look at me and tell me the truth. Did you try to hurt me with some twisted idea you could turn a god into your puppet?"

For the first time in her life, Cassandra gazed at a god. He dressed simply, his monochiton as red as a rose. The gold sunburst-patterned pins holding the delicate material in place matched the belt around his waist. The god had a square jaw and a large, straight nose framed by high and pronounced cheekbones. His wide hazel eyes softened his otherwise harsh features and had such depth Cassandra wanted to fall into them.

The god had chosen a young, fit appearance. Cassandra knew it well, though she had never met him. In his temple, his statue stood as an exact replica. She'd spent countless hours talking to the stone figure in belief her prayers and appreciation were heard.

"Answer me," the sun god Apollo said when the silence had dragged on too long.

Cassandra swallowed hard. "N-no, my Lord. I would never do that. I merely lacked good judgment. I'm so sorry, and I beg you again, please don't--"

"Be quiet. Your family is safe."

The tightness in Cassandra's chest lessened. Tears stung her eyes. "Oh, thank you, my Lord!"

"There's still you to deal with." His words acted like a cold splash on Cassandra's brief happiness. With mounting dread, she watched as he ran nimble fingers through his shoulder-length golden hair.

She gathered her courage and stated, "As long as my family is safe, do whatever you wish."

"Hmm..." Apollo's fingers moved over his neck and paused at the spot where Cassandra had struck him; the wound had vanished. His eyes brightened to the point they glowed. "From your aim, I gather you're well experienced with the hunt."

Cassandra nodded, and her stomach churned. What terrible things would she endure before he claimed her life? She knew she deserved whatever punishment he dreamt up, but she hoped he'd strike her with a single, deadening blow and be done with it.

Apollo's mouth opened, and Cassandra braced herself for her death sentence, but the god shocked her by saying, "It's been a good day for me, so I'm willing to offer you a chance at redemption. If you're brave enough to take it."

"Yes, anything." If it didn't involve melting the flesh from her bones.

"We're going to compete to see who has the greater skill with the bow. The first to kill game of moderate value or the one to have the best after a set time is the winner. If I win, you die. If you win, you may leave this forest without fear of my vengeance."

"That is beyond generous of you. You're too kind, my Lord. But--"

"But?"

Cassandra feared the words she wanted to speak would enrage the sun god, yet she couldn't stop them tumbling out of her mouth. "Yes, well...That is--I'd like suggest a possible...rule."

Apollo shrugged. "I'm listening."

Cassandra licked her lips as her courage built. When she felt sure of herself, she asked, "Do you believe it would be a fair testimony to your greatness if you matched your godliness to my mortal limitations? Wouldn't it seem more of an affront to you?"

"It may..." An edge had crept into Apollo's melodious tone.

Cassandra dropped her eyes to his chest. "I think the competition would be better if you pretended to be mortal--didn't use any of your powers."

Suspicion twisted Apollo's features. "What sort of trickery is this?"

"I swear, it's not."

Apollo glared at her, but she stood firm and non-threatening.

His face softened into a neutral expression as his attention turned inward. Cassandra waited as patiently as possible as the sun god thought over her proposal. As time ticked away, Cassandra grew worried she'd gone too far, had insulted the god by trying to alter his rather gracious offer, and he now plotted the most dreadful way to kill her.

It terrified her, her inevitable end, but at least her siblings and parents wouldn't suffer because of her. Cassandra could die somewhat peacefully with her conscious free of that.

"Your request is acceptable," Apollo said, and Cassandra expelled a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "I'll be as mortal as a man for our competition."

"Swear on the River Styx."

Something glinted in Apollo's eyes, maybe amusement, maybe infuriation. "I swear on the River Styx that for the duration of our test any powers I possess that make me more than a man will be nonexistent."

Cassandra bowed. "Thank you, my Lord."

Apollo smirked and tied back his hair with a piece of cloth he hadn't had before. Then he held out his hand. A bright flash came from his palm and when it dissipated the god held a bow that looked crafted of pure gold; slick and unmarked. A full quiver appeared, and he slung it over his shoulder.

"Ready yourself," he told Cassandra.

Cassandra's heartbeat's pace increased. The god seemed so confident Cassandra considered not trying. How could she believe she could hold her own against one of the Twin Archers? Apollo had practically started using a bow the moment he'd been born.

But the thought of giving up settled like a sick fog on Cassandra's soul. What would Hector and Helenus think if they knew she had gone out a coward?

No, Cassandra would give it her all, and die with pride. She steadied her nerves. When she felt better, she retrieved her bow and met Apollo's intense stare.

"I'm ready."

From his pocket, the god produced two palm-sized hourglasses. He threw one toward Cassandra, and she reached for it. The hourglass stopped just beyond her fingertips; hovered at chest level. Apollo released the other one and it hung in the air near his head.

"Once the sand runs out, the game is over."

Cassandra nodded.

"We begin...Now!"

The hourglasses turned over, and Apollo took off into the woods as quick as a startled deer; his hourglass remained by his head. Cassandra watched the god, impressed. Even without his powers, his speed made Polites, one of the fastest runners to grace Troy, look as slow as a mongrel on its last leg.

Cassandra followed him (her own hourglass kept pace). She figured she wouldn't find anything in the immediate area they'd been in. Apollo's loud transformation had scared away all potential game.

She tried to step carefully as she ran, but her focus waned. What if she couldn't find anything? What if--?

Cassandra caught sight of her hourglass. Half the sand had already reached the bottom. Cold reality washed over her, and her steps slowed; her thoughts swirled. Nothing in all her hunting experience could have prepared her for an event like this, and time was running out.

How could she win this contest?

As she tried to craft a plan, Cassandra continued to head in the direction Apollo had gone. She searched for an animal as she went along, but nothing caught her attention.

Cassandra spotted Apollo in the distance, poised with his bow as he watched a large bird in the tree close to him. Where she stood, Cassandra couldn't shoot the bird before Apollo. But she couldn't let him get it.

She spotted a rock beside her foot, and inspiration struck her. She picked it up and crept toward the god. She was far from quiet, but Apollo seemed too consumed with the task at hand to pay any mind to her approach.

Cassandra paused just behind him, ignored the voice in her head screaming about her stupidity, and launched the rock at the bird. She missed her target, but the rock did hit the branch it stood on. The bird squawked and flew away.

Apollo cursed, threw her a look that might have turned her to ash if he'd had his god powers, and hurried deeper into the woods. Cassandra followed on his heels. If she couldn't get an animal, she'd make sure he wouldn't either.

The sun god tried two more times to get a creature and Cassandra thwarted him on each occasion. The last time he screamed incoherent words and turned his bow on her. Apollo aimed at her chest, right at her heart, but didn't strike. Apollo just stood there, and Cassandra figured he'd wait to kill her until just before the last grain of sand tumbled to the bottom of their hourglasses.

"Twenty. Nineteen," Apollo called. Mad glee danced in his eyes.

Cassandra couldn't look at him. Instead, she stared at her toes and silently said goodbyes her loved ones would never hear. At least Cassandra had tried her best. She had some dignity left, enough to satisfy her. That's all someone could ask for in their final moments, right?

"Eight...Seven..."

Hopefully, Apollo would leave her body recognizable, so her family could find it and get closure. She should have asked, had made him promise her. Could she now? Was it too much? If she infuriated him further, would it make her death worse?

"Five..." Apollo's hand twitched.

Cassandra sighed, furious with the tears that gathered in her eyes. No, she wouldn't break down. Not at this--

Something wiggled next to her sandal. She blinked away her tears as encouragement flooded her. She crouched and cupped the creature. Cassandra smiled with sudden optimism as she met Apollo's puzzled gaze. As the hourglasses ran out, she held out her hands to display her game.

"I think I won."

Chapter Three

Apollo leaned forward, gazed at the creature squirming in Cassandra's hands, and frowned. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am."

"That doesn't count."

"Why not?"

"It's a worm! Worms are nothing. Useless creatures that--"

"No, they're not, my Lord. Without them, many things wouldn't live; many things you and I have hunted. I agree worms aren't game experienced hunters bother with, but they aren't, usually, easy to obtain. It does take skill to gather them. I merely lucked out."

"That logic is...weak." Apollo glared at the worm. "And even if I allowed that you still lose because you cheated."

"If you're talking about my thwarting your attempts, it was never stated we couldn't do that to one another."

"You're a bold one."

Sweat beaded along Cassandra's hairline. "I'm not trying to offend you, my Lord."

Apollo's face flushed red, and he opened and closed his mouth twice but didn't utter a word. His chest heaved, and Cassandra swore steam drifted from his ears. The air around them grew hot and uncomfortable.

He was going to burn her alive, but maybe she'd earned the wretched end. Perhaps this was the consequence for testing fate.

"I've had a good day," Apollo muttered. In an instant, his demeanor changed, and the temperature returned to normal. The rage left his face, and the sun god flashed Cassandra a dazzling smile. "I'll let you live, mortal."

"Oh." Cassandra's head spun from his rapid transformation from vengeful Olympian to good-natured god.

Apollo laughed at her surprise and plucked the worm from her hands and dropped it to the ground. "I find you amusing." He wiped his dirtied fingers on his monochiton. "Plus, you have a face to rival Aphrodite. It'd be a shame to rid the world of such beauty. I'd never hear the end of it."

"Thank you, my Lord," Cassandra said, though she still had difficulty grasping the good fortune the Fates had bestowed her. She didn't know why they thought her so worthy, but she didn't dare question their actions out loud. They may think she mocked their generosity, and they'd retract it.

Apollo snapped his fingers, and his hunting gear and the hourglasses vanished. He snapped again, and a gilded stool decorated with emeralds materialized behind him. He sat down.

"What's your name?"

"Cassandra, my Lord."

"Cassandra of Troy, the daughter of Priam?"

"Yes."

The sun god frowned. "I don't like your mother very much."

"She's an...acquired taste."

"I don't know if you've always thought I blessed you and your twin brother, but I didn't." Apollo rolled his eyes. "I can't understand where your mother got the idea."

Her mind latched onto the story the god spoke of. Ever since she and Helenus had been young, Hecuba had claimed Apollo had sent snakes to clean her twins' ears the night she'd left them in the sun god's temple. She loved to tell anyone who would listen how her children would grow into exceptional mortals all the gods fawned over.

Cassandra smiled. She'd never given it much thought. She looked at her mother's words as harmless babble and ignored her like everyone else.

"Oh, I know how she stretches the truth," she said.

Apollo plucked a hair from his monochiton. "She's lucky I find her delusions entertaining." His attention turned to her. "So why do you spend your time hunting? Are you trying to impress my sister in hope to become a Huntress? I must tell you, it's a very dull existence running around with her and avoiding the pleasures only a man can bring a woman. It's a waste, really."

"Hunting is my hobby."

"You haven't sworn off men or the prospect of marriage?"

"Not yet, my Lord."

"The thought has crossed your mind."

"I believe it crosses every young maiden's mind at least once, especially those in my position."

Apollo winked. "You may be right, but I wouldn't know much about that, now would I?"

Cassandra shook her head.

"Who was the one--" Apollo tilted his head back to look at the sky. He sighed, stood, and the chair disappeared. "Can I walk you to the edge of the forest?"

"...Yes."

Apollo marched past her, and she almost had to run to catch up with him. The god didn't seem to notice he moved too fast and Cassandra didn't utter a word of complaint. With how quickly his moods shifted, she didn't think he'd stick to his decision to let her continue breathing if she made him upset.

The god walked with sure steps. He trotted over roots and avoided rodent holes without ever looking at the ground. Cassandra sensed he'd roamed the area a thousand times.

Without a glance back at her, Apollo asked, "Who was the one to get you interested in hunting?"

Cassandra grinned. "My brother Hector. He taught me everything I know."

"Does he actually have skill?"

"More than enough to have embarrassed us both in that competition."

Apollo snorted. "Not that that's saying much when compared to you."

"But I still won."

"That you did."

The god's steps slowed to Cassandra's pace, and she caught up to him. They walked side-by-side. Apollo turned his head and studied Cassandra. His mouth opened, then snapped shut.

"My Lord?"

"I was just wondering..." Apollo smirked. "Will you let what little skill you have go to waste once you have a husband and a horde of children?"

"Why are you so fixated on the thought of me and marriage?"

Apollo shrugged. "It's what is currently on my mind. Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"No. It's just uncommon for me to speak about this with anyone that isn't Helenus or my sisters."

"Do you believe I have an ulterior motive?"

"Do you, my Lord?"

One of Apollo's eyebrows lifted. Then he grinned, and the wicked gesture lit his face. "Oh, by now you'd have figured out if I had an ulterior motive."

He chuckled at the look of disbelief Cassandra couldn't hide.

"No, Cassandra of Troy, I don't want you as my wife." Apollo regarded her. "I can do better."

"Better than a beauty that rivals Aphrodite?"

"I was kind."

"So, you're a god of lies as well?"

Apollo let out a beautiful, full-bodied laugh that somehow complemented the sounds of the forest. It washed over Cassandra like the summer sun, and she found it difficult the god's allure. Though he angered quick and was as unpredictable as the ocean, Cassandra identified with him.

Could she be responding to how gods presented themselves to mortals they didn't want to intimidate? Or did the two share a common trait that connected them on a profound level?

As Cassandra thought over her questions, they reached the spot where Cassandra had entered the forest. Apollo stopped.

"I've enjoyed my time with you."

"I'm surprised I can agree."

"I'd love to see if you can get something other than worms." Apollo's smirk returned to his lips. "Would you like to hunt with me when I can spare moments to spend with you?"

The proposal filled Cassandra with delighted anticipation. "Yes, I would, my Lord."

"On the days I wish to see you, you'll find my message your pillow that morning. Join me in the place where we first met before midday."

"I shall."

Apollo's body turned transparent. "Goodbye, Cassandra of Troy. I'm glad you shot me."

"Goodbye, my Lord," Cassandra said as the sun god faded from sight. She stared at the spot where he'd been standing, smiled, then left the forest.

"Oh, thank the gods. There you are!" a voice shouted when she stepped out of the shadows the small trees lining the outer wall casted.

Cassandra looked in its direction and spotted Helenus jogging toward her. "Did you follow me?"

Helenus stopped before her, his breathing heavy. "No. Well, yes, sort of. But not for the reason you think."

"You're not upset I disobeyed your orders?"

Helenus laughed. "I said that more on principle. No, I've been looking for you because Polites saw dark clouds on the horizon and I didn't want you to get caught in the storm."

"I bet Deiphobus would prefer me to, to teach me a lesson."

Helenus snickered. "Most likely."

Cassandra sighed and started for the palace.

Her twin trailed after her. "What did you do in there? See anything interesting?"

Cassandra's lips parted, and she almost told Helenus about Apollo, but she stopped the words before they left her mouth. Apollo probably didn't want her discussing their meeting, and Cassandra wasn't sure if her brother would believe her. He'd listen with an open mind and a nonjudgmental heart, but he'd conclude her confession was a result of a lack of water or a bump on the head.

No, she'd keep Apollo a secret, at least for now.

"Not really," Cassandra lied with as much conviction as she could muster. "It was quite dull."

"What a shame."

Cassandra kept her face neutral as excitement exploded inside her chest. "What a shame indeed."

Chapter Four

The second arrow struck the death blow, and the stag dropped to the ground. Cassandra let out a cry and turned to Apollo with a huge grin. "Two today!"

Apollo rubbed his neck. "You've found a way to gain my sister's favor. What did you bribe her with?"

Cassandra approached her kill. "Will I always be a cheater in your eyes?"

"Whenever you make me look bad."

Cassandra chuckled as she removed her arrows. She trailed her fingers over the stag's soft hide, and a mixture of awe and mild sadness over what she'd done filled her. Guilt for taking down a magnificent being tugged at Cassandra's stomach, but she reminded herself the stag hadn't died in vain. No animal Cassandra had killed when with Apollo did.

Since neither Cassandra nor the sun god required anything from the animals, Apollo gifted the kills to worthy, needy mortals. By having fun, Cassandra assisted the unfortunate--a win-win.

On top of that, her archery skill had improved dramatically over the three weeks she'd snuck into the forest to hunt with the sun god. She wouldn't doubt she could hold her own against Hector, if not surpass her brother. She hoped he'd be proud of her when he came home, and she showed him.

But what if doing so made him apprehensive to hunt with her again? What if Hector's time away from Troy had turned him into their father? Maybe he wouldn't understand why she shared his passion. Perhaps he'd tell her to retire her bow and concentrate on what the King expected of her.

Apollo materialized beside her. "Why suddenly troubled?" He touched her shoulder.

Cassandra shook her head to chase away her thoughts. "Nothing."

The god gazed at her for a long moment, then shrugged and waved his hand. The stool he'd sat on at their first meeting appeared, and he eased himself onto it.

"Finished already, are we? Can you no longer stand your inferiority?"

"I thought you'd take pleasure in a meal, but if my manners aren't appreciated..."

"Aren't you so serious."

Apollo didn't reply and instead snapped his fingers. The dead stag disappeared, and a small table covered in figs, cut vegetables, fresh bread, and heaping piles of meats took the creature's place. A stool like the one Apollo sat on came into existence near his. He patted the seat and Cassandra took her spot next to the god.

She dug into the food with an excitement that would have made her mother weep. Apollo ate at a much slower pace and watched her devour whatever her hands brought to her lips. After a short time had passed, Apollo held out a goblet.

"You need this."

Cassandra swallowed her mouthful of bread and blushed as she took the goblet. She sipped the aromatic red wine and reminded herself to keep from drinking it all at once. It was sweet and rich, far better than any wine at the palace, and she'd gotten drunk her first time consuming it.

"Thank you, my Lord," she finally said. She put down her drink and gestured to the banquet. "For all of this, thank you very much."

Apollo flashed one of his blinding smiles. "I'm glad it pleases you."

The hunger that had clawed at Cassandra faded, and she picked at food that interested her; remembered she was a young lady of high social standing in the presence of an Olympian. How Apollo hadn't commented on her barbaric mannerisms, she didn't know.

The god shifted in his seat. "You have done very well." He took a sip from his own goblet. "I can't believe a mortal has had the talent to beat me at times."

"I have talent now? No more ideas of me cheating?"

Apollo smirked. "I never said that. Your talent very well may lie in conning the other gods to favor you."

Cassandra rolled her eyes but chortled. "You remind me of my older brother. He's spoken almost the same words."

"The theory is strong then; undoubtedly true."

"Undoubtedly."

The following chuckle caused Apollo to shake. For reasons Cassandra couldn't fully comprehend she found the sight hilarious and joined in his amusement. Their voices melded together and rose in a deafening roar carried on the wind to all parts of the woods.

"Whatever your talent," Apollo said when their laughter had died, "I'm surprised and very impressed."

"Thank you, my Lord." Cassandra wiped at the tears of merriment that had slid down her cheeks.

"I want to reward you." Apollo's tone had turned sober.

"Reward me? My Lord, hunting with you is reward enough."

"There's more I can do, and want to do, to show you my appreciation." Apollo produced two large packages from behind his back before Cassandra could object. He cleared a spot on the table and set the packages before her. "Go on. Open them," he urged, his expression bright and eager.

Cassandra pulled off the wrapping of the nearest package. Her jaw dropped when she revealed the gift.

"I can't--Oh, my Lord, this is too much."

While she spoke, she ran her fingers over the stunning bow the god had given her. The startling jade green color complimented the dozen gold snakes carved into the firm, light wood. Dazed, Cassandra stood and tested the bow. She manipulated it as easily as her arms or legs.

"It was crafted just for you," Apollo said.

Cassandra already adored the bow. "Thank you."

Apollo ripped the next package open and presented the second gift to Cassandra.

"A new quiver, too!"

She allowed Apollo to place the matching quiver over her shoulder. Its weight, like an afterthought, didn't surprise her.

The god stepped away and admired her. He nodded, then pointed at her quiver. "I've provided arrows as well. They're special. The arrows will allow you to hunt any game you wish. They'll harm mortals, beasts, monsters, and gods alike."

"You've given me more than I could have ever hoped for."

On impulse, Cassandra kissed the god's cheek. It dawned on her what she'd done, and her face reddened. She stepped back.

"Thank you from the bottom of my heart, my Lord. I'll cherish these gifts all of my life."

Apollo touched his cheek. He glowed as a small grin stretched his lips. "You're welcome."

Thunder cracked, and they both jumped. Cassandra looked at the sky and frowned at the gray clouds that had formed a sprawling blanket. A single drop of rain dared to splash her nose.

Apollo sighed. "That's my cue to leave." He clapped his hands, and the stools, table, and food disappeared. "This has been a lovely day."

"I believe so, too."

Apollo's image faded. "Thank you, Cassandra, for your time."

He waved and left her alone.

"No, thank you! And for the gifts, too," Cassandra called.

She picked up her other bow and quiver and ran as fast as she could out of the forest before the storm overtook her. Cassandra scrambled to the back door of the horse stables, checked to make sure no servants or slaves lingered in the building, then hid both her bows and quivers in an empty stall. She strolled away from the area and called out endearments to her father's many horses as she walked past them to the entrance.

The weather looked more violent as Cassandra approached the palace. She refused to let the darkening sky and booming thunder dampen her mood. She pretended the storm didn't exist as thought about the fun she'd have with Apollo's gifts.

Cassandra grinned to herself, a part of her unable to grasp that the god had acted so kind. In their short time together, he'd proven different than she'd expected--not that Cassandra could complain. Apollo had become a friend she cherished.

"Cassandra!" a voice cried out.

Cassandra's eyes searched out the source and smiled when she saw Polyxena approaching from her left. She lifted her arm to wave but stopped herself as she noticed a striking young man, a man Cassandra had never seen before, trailed her sister.

She ran at the pair in her worry. Once before them, she took hold of Polyxena's hand and tugged her sister to her side. "Who is this?"

The man took two steps back; his expression one of apology. "My name is Paris." He had a low-pitched, melodic voice.

Cassandra's eyebrows rose. Why did he sound familiar?

"I found him on the edge of the palace's grounds, near the rear gate," Polyxena chimed in.

"What has Mother told you about being there?" Cassandra chided.

"I forgot." Polyxena stared at the ground. Her copious blond hair tumbled into her tiny-featured face.

Cassandra narrowed her gaze at Paris. "Why were you there in the first place?"

"For nothing bad, I swear. I was just...working up the courage to come here."

"Citizens come through the front gate."

"Oh...well--"

"He's not a citizen!" Polyxena interrupted.

"Even important guests still come through the front gate," Cassandra insisted.

"But he's not--Look closely at him," Polyxena said. She pushed Paris nearer to Cassandra.

"What am I looking for..." Cassandra muttered as she looked Paris over more intently.

His short, curly auburn hair highlighted his penetrating blue eyes. His square jaw teased the hint of stubble. He towered over Cassandra and Polyxena, and was well built, though not like a soldier. His lean muscles implied speed.

Paris resembled an older version of Polites.

Polyxena laughed. "You see it, too."

Cassandra ignored her sister. "Why were you coming to the palace?" she asked Paris.

"I want to speak with my father."

A part of Cassandra knew of whom he spoke, but she couldn't stop herself from asking, "And who is that?"

Paris swallowed but kept his gaze firm as he answered, "King Priam."

Chapter Five

Paris' confession left Cassandra at a loss for words. She tried to speak, but only ended up opening her mouth and abruptly closing it.

"We need to take him to Father," Polyxena said. She bounced on the balls of her feet, and excitement flushed her face. "Now, Cassandra! Father would like to hear his story, right?"

Cassandra cleared her throat and found her voice. "I would, too."

"Let's take him!" Polyxena cried just as the sky spat rain.

Cassandra realized she didn't have much choice. "Come," she said to Paris as she grasped her sister's arm. She took off for the palace, and Paris ran beside them.

They reached the vast, sprawling palace on the hill moments later. Cassandra composed herself before she led Polyxena and Paris through the many hallways and multitude of turns that made up the maze of her home. Soon they reached the throne room.

The bright, polished gilded throne doors had images of Priam's achievements carved into them--one of them the day he married Hecuba. The sight of her parents' elated faces always warmed Cassandra's heart when she looked at it. They had been madly in love all those years ago and still were. One day, Cassandra hoped to end up half as happy as the King and his queen.

Cassandra raised her hand to pound on the door, but Polyxena grew impatient and raced past her, and shoved her way into the room. The doors slammed open, and the four men (the most trusted members of Priam's council) gathered around the King's impressive, jewel-encrusted throne stopped their erratic talking and turned in unison to stare at the intruders. Their faces twisted into expressions ranging from mild amusement to outrage. Cassandra ignored them as she chased after her sister.

Polyxena came to an abrupt halt at the bottom of the raised dais the King's and Queen's thrones sat upon. She dropped into an elegant curtsey. Cassandra stopped beside her and copied her movements.

"Rise," Priam's powerful voice commanded. Cassandra's and Polyxena's postures straightened. A stern and unimpressed expression contorted the King's lined, strong features as his olive-green eyes bored into them. "What is the meaning of your interruption?"

"We've brought someone who must speak with you," Polyxena chirped, unfazed by the King's demeanor.

Priam frowned. "And it had to be this very moment?"

"Yes," Polyxena said, and then looked over her shoulder. She beckoned to a fidgeting Paris. "Come on."

The young man dragged himself into the King's line of sight.

The King's gaze roamed over Paris, and surprised recognition lit his eyes. He masked it as he turned his attention away from Paris and said to the four men, "Leave me."

"But, my King, we haven't finished our discussion," the oldest council member said. He threw Cassandra a dark look.

"Leave me. Now!"

The Council couldn't move fast enough. They exited the throne room and closed the doors behind them.

Priam put his unsettling focus back on Paris. "Who are you?"

"His name is Pa--"

Cassandra slapped her hand over her sister's mouth. "Be quiet."

"Who are you?" Priam repeated to Paris.

Paris bowed. "My name is Paris."

Priam nodded. He seemed to physically cool at Paris' polite tone. "And why are you so determined to bother me today? What couldn't wait?"

"I was sent here to be with my family."

Priam's grey eyebrows shot up. "Family? Who is your family here, and why does it matter to me?"

Paris sucked on his lips, lips precisely like the King's. As Cassandra compared the two she grew more and more positive Paris had spoken the truth. Cassandra didn't know how she could have another brother she'd never met, but she couldn't deny she and Paris shared the same father.

"You are," Paris blurted.

The King sat back on his throne; his expression confused. "How can that be?" he muttered to himself. "How--I would have--Who told you this?"

"My guardian--the man I believed to be my father up until a short time ago--Agelaus."

"Agelaus?" Priam choked on the name.

"Yes, he was your chief herdsman. He confessed you had employed him to dispose of me when I was just hours old because I was thought too sickly to live, but Agelaus couldn't bring himself to go through with it, and when I lived, raised me like a son."

Paris didn't sound upset his existence had started out so unfairly. His voice held no accusation as he described to the King what had happened, no hint he harbored any resentment toward his real father. Respect sprung into Priam's eyes as he regarded Paris.

"That's very interesting." The King ran his hand through his graying beard. "I wonder, though, why would Agelaus tell you after all this t--"

The throne room doors burst open and in bustled Deiphobus and Helenus.

"Sorry for our rudeness, my King," Deiphobus said as he approached the throne. Helenus mumbled similar words, and they both bowed. "We overheard murmurs that spiked our curiosity and had to come investigate right away."

"And mine," a gentle, but authoritative voice said from behind Cassandra's brothers. Helenus and Deiphobus parted to allow the Queen through. Hecuba went straight to Paris and turned him to face her. Her gaze drifted over him, no doubt noting the way Paris' curls mimicked hers, how their noses were identically thin and pointed, and that they both had protruding cheekbones.

"Those eyes," Hecuba murmured, but it was so quiet in the room, as everyone watched her and Paris, her words easily carried. "Those eyes have haunted my dreams for twenty-seven years." She rested a hand on Paris' cheek. "You're my Alexander." She sobbed the name, and tears tumbled down her face.

Paris intertwined his fingers with Hecuba's. "I've only been known as Paris."

"Regardless, you are my son!" Hecuba looked over Paris' shoulder and grinned at her husband. "My love, this is our son! He is healthy and home. Can you believe this? He is home."

"Are you sure?" Priam asked.

Hecuba stood on her tiptoes and kissed Paris on the forehead. Then she wrapped her arms around him. "There's no doubt in my heart I'm in the presence of my own flesh and blood."

"I knew he told the truth," Polyxena cried, and twisted out of Cassandra's grasp. She joined Hecuba in hugging Paris.

Priam rose from his throne and walked to the trio. Hecuba and Polyxena let go of Paris, and the King took their spot. He embraced his long-lost son. "Welcome home, my boy."

The tension evaporated from the room. After Priam had released Paris, Hecuba, Polyxena, and Helenus burst into speech at once. Paris' head snapped back and forth between them all, a silly grin plastered on his lips.

Cassandra silently laughed at the sight. Paris didn't know it yet, but he'd just become one of the luckiest men on Earth. His newly discovered family would drive him mad, but he'd be loved fiercely, and never want for anything. He was a prince of Troy, after all. His future held few limitations.

Without warning, Deiphobus grasped Cassandra's elbow. "Come with me."

Not wanting to draw attention away from Paris, Cassandra allowed Deiphobus to lead her out of the throne room without a struggle. He pulled her behind one of the marble pillars near the throne room doors.

Cassandra wrenched herself out of her brother's hold. "What do you want?"

"Where were you earlier?"

"I took a walk." The lie easily rolled off Cassandra's tongue; not the first she'd had to tell Deiphobus over the weeks she'd spent with Apollo. And with the way he breathed down her neck, she knew it wouldn't be her last lie.

"Did you go hunting?"

"I have many hobbies."

Deiphobus scowled. "You did." He shook his head. "More is going on than that, isn't there?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Your absences have increased, and rumors have whispered throughout the palace."

"Those rumors are spread by jealous gossips, and you're a fool for listening to them." Cassandra scowled, tired of her brother's suspicions. "That's what you're proving yourself to be, Deiphobus. A fool."

"I'll not be spoken to that way." Deiphobus raised his hand. "You will show me respect. You will--"

"Father's throwing a feast tonight in Paris' honor," Helenus' voice said.

Cassandra jumped, and Deiphobus grimaced. Instead of slapping Cassandra, he rubbed at a fold in his chiton.

"Isn't that...nice," Deiphobus said.

"Yes, it is, and the King wants you to inform the cook."

Deiphobus gazed at Helenus for many heartbeats. Helenus crossed his arms and tapped his foot. He met Deiphobus' stare with unwavering determination. "They should be told now."

Deiphobus glared at Cassandra. "Our discussion isn't over."

"I can't wait."

Deiphobus pushed past his twin siblings. Cassandra watched him and sighed when he disappeared. She rubbed her face and willed herself to calm.

She looked at Helenus. "Thank you."

A dull fury glowed in her brother's eyes. "He had no right to threaten you."

"I'm not scared of him."

"I would be. Deiphobus is very upset with you."

"My personal life is no concern of his."

"Deiphobus is right about the rumors." Helenus avoided meeting his sister's hot gaze. "They've gotten elaborate and affect us all. I'm shocked Father hasn't spoken to you yet."

"They're just rumors." Cassandra's frustration with the topic boiled over. "I haven't done anything wrong!"

"What have you been doing?"

"I can't tell you."

And she couldn't. Not because she feared her brother would think her senseless, but because Apollo had asked her to keep silent. And she'd vowed she would.

Helenus grumbled to himself but stopped mid-rambling and took a breath. "Are you at least safe?"

"Of course, I'm safe," Cassandra answered; certain in her heart Apollo would never let anything bad happen to her while she hunted with him. "I swear to you, I wouldn't do what I'm doing if I thought I could get hurt."

The look that crossed Helenus' face told Cassandra he didn't believe her, but he didn't press the issue. Instead, he held out his hand. "Come, Mother expects us to look perfect for Paris' feast."

Cassandra took his hand. "Then we will."

Chapter Six

The insistent, sudden knocking on Cassandra's door jerked her out of a sound sleep. She shifted under her blanket, and a loud yawn escaped her as her bedchamber door flung open. Half a heartbeat later, Hecuba danced into the room. She hummed a cheerful tone.

Cassandra sat up and smiled at her mother. Paris' arrival the previous week had breathed vigor into Hecuba's soul. She resembled the mother of Cassandra's childhood; vibrant and jolly.

"Good-morning, Mother."

Hecuba sang louder as she sashayed over to the room's single, large window, threw open the heavy curtains, and exposed the already bright day. The Queen then approached her daughter's bed and kissed Cassandra's cheek.

"Good-morning as well, my precious honeycomb."

Hecuba twirled away from Cassandra. She went to the polished wood trunk that accompanied the space next to the ornate fireplace still flickering with weak flames. Hecuba opened the trunk and shifted through the peploi inside.

Cassandra left her bed and stood beside her mother. "Your spirits are high."

Hecuba stopped examining a blue and white peplos and grinned at her daughter. "The gods have surely blessed us."

Cassandra giggled, unable to resist Hecuba's infectious happiness. "Yes, they have." She wrapped her arms around her mother's soft middle and hugged her tight.

The Queen squeezed back. When she let go, she patted her daughter on the back and resumed rummaging through the trunk.

"What are you looking for?"

"Where's that purple peplos you received for your birthday last year?"

Cassandra plucked out the peplos in question. "Here."

"Yes, good," Hecuba mumbled to herself as she took the garment and placed it on the bed. Then the Queen rooted around a second, smaller trunk beside the first for the matching set of sandals.

Cassandra looked at her peplos, then her mother. "What do you want with my clothing?"

Hecuba stopped singing and made more noise than necessary as she continued her search.

Suspicion fluttered in Cassandra's stomach. "Mother, what's going on?"

"Nothing bad, Cassandra." Hecuba turned from the trunk and cradled the sought-after sandals. "I simply thought you should look nice today, even more so than you usually do."

"Why?" Cassandra hated how her mother couldn't meet her demanding gaze. What did Hecuba have in mind?

"A princess should look as if she carries within her the flame of Aphrodite," Hecuba muttered as she almost fled from Cassandra's bedchamber to the attached bathing chamber. Cassandra followed close behind, a growth Hecuba couldn't rid herself of with ease.

"Mother, I want answers." Cassandra raced around the Queen in a sudden burst of speed to block her mother's path.

Hecuba placed her hands on her hips. "This is ridiculous behavior, Cassandra. You need to bathe, and we need to hurry. The King will not tolerate tardiness."

"Father and you have something planned. What? What?"

"You're required to entertain the son of a critical guest."

The sick feeling brought on by Hecuba's strange behavior exploded into shock, and almost doubled Cassandra over from the suddenness of it. "A suitor."

"He is a...nice young man."

"But still a suitor."

Hecuba sighed. "You're of age. Many suitors will come and beg the King for your hand. I've tried to prepare you since you entered womanhood."

Cassandra's shock had turned into a fear that settled heavily on her shoulders. "This is so soon, though."

The annoyance that had flared bright red on Hecuba's face when her daughter had stopped her progression into the bathing chamber faded. The Queen's features melted into an expression of compassion as she reached out and cupped Cassandra's cheek. Cassandra leaned against her mother's hand, surprised by an overwhelming need for the Queen's affection. She hadn't felt this way in years.

"You're scared, my little honeycomb." Cassandra nodded. Hecuba's lips twitched into an understanding smile. "It's always terrifying in the beginning, but don't dwell on that. Think of it as the beginning of a future so wonderful you'll feel as if the gods themselves have crafted a special life for you."

The Queen's tender words told Cassandra her mother's thoughts had drifted to her experience with Priam. He'd rescued a terrorized Hecuba from her cruel father. Hecuba lived a fantasy she hadn't allowed herself to dream of at her daughter's age. Cassandra had to admit she found it exhilarating to wish for love so grand and romantic, but she wasn't in the same situation as her mother had been in Cisseus. Cassandra wasn't willing to leave all she had and dive headfirst into the unknown of waters of marriage.

Yes, she realized the young man who'd come to call wouldn't necessarily become her husband, but if the young man had the right connections or enough money, Priam would grant him Cassandra's hand. Cassandra knew Priam loved his daughters with every beat of his heart, but he hadn't remained on the throne for so long by ignoring intelligent, strategic unions because one of his princesses refused to fulfill the duty given to her at birth.

Cassandra looked away from her mother's wistful gaze. "That sounds...nice--Great."

Hecuba grinned and grasped Cassandra's hand. She tugged her toward the large basin that sat on a table in the center of the room. "Undress," the Queen instructed as she gathered numerous bathing instruments and set them next to the two pots of water next to the basin, one cold and one warm (servants replaced the water throughout the night and day).

Cassandra stripped out of the heavy wool peplos she'd slept in. "Where are my bathing assistants?"

Hecuba pointed at the basin. "I will perform their jobs this morning. This is a special occasion, requires a mother's touch."

Cassandra approached the table. Once there, Hecuba undid Cassandra's braid and ran her fingers through her daughter's hair until no knots remained. Finished, the Queen picked up one of the pots and poured the cold water into the basin.

"Wet your hair," Hecuba instructed.

Cassandra complied, and afterward, Hecuba poured soap that smelt like roses and honey onto Cassandra's head. Together, they worked the thick liquid through her wet curls. Then Cassandra rinsed out the soap, and Hecuba retrieved a sponge.

As her mother washed Cassandra into a shining pearl, Hecuba told Cassandra, in chirping, excited tones, how Priam had won her undying love. Cassandra listened as her mother droned on about the many presents and trips the King had showered on his young bride to secure her affection. Cassandra had heard these stories since her early years, but her mother's accounts enthralled as if Hecuba told them for the first time.

Maybe this time Cassandra would discover the secret to her parents' grand love affair in the Queen's words.

"It wasn't just the splendor, though," Hecuba said as she finished, and Cassandra rinsed herself off. "Granted, it was--still is--breathtaking, but the beauty of all the material items paled in comparison to the greatest treasure the King has ever given me."

"What?" Cassandra asked as she dried her body. She stared at the Queen and prayed Hecuba would reveal a shred of wisdom instead of one of her notorious silly notions.

"He allowed me to get to know the man beneath his exterior. He's more than my King, my husband, and lover. He's my greatest friend; a soul that resonates perfectly with my own."

The seriousness in her tone captivated Cassandra. This was what she'd hoped to hear. Now all Cassandra could do was take it, store it away, and pray hard that the Fates would bestow upon her the gift Hecuba's knowledge could bring.

"Oh."

"There is a man out there like that for you--There's one for every woman." Hecuba's demeanor had drifted back to a more whimsical one. "I know there is," she added, with so much conviction Cassandra let herself believe it.

But will I ever meet him? Cassandra wondered as her mother rubbed oil into her skin. Will I be as lucky as my mother? Could this suitor be my soul's mate?

Once her skin was softened, her mother whisked her into her bedchamber. Hecuba hummed the same song from when she'd first burst in on her daughter that morning as she wrestled with Cassandra's mane of damp hair. The Queen combed and twisted it until she'd tamed it into an intricate hairstyle. Then Hecuba went to work enhancing her daughter's best features.

Hecuba smiled as she finished with Cassandra's eyes. "Not much to do."

Cassandra chuckled and helped her mother fasten her peplos in place. Next came the sandals, and then Cassandra gazed at herself in the full mirror in the farthest corner of her bedchamber. With an expert hand, Hecuba had made Cassandra's face appear more sculpted, older. Cassandra had to admit she looked striking, and it terrified her (and thrilled her, even if she wouldn't admit it out loud) to know a strange man would see her like this and judge her potential solely on the impression she made today.

Her worth hung on the image of loveliness she projected.

Hecuba appeared behind Cassandra. "You're going to stop that young man's heart."

A smile shadowed Cassandra's lips. Wouldn't that be something? All her father's hard work wasted.

Unless, of course, the young man had come with his father, and his father was single and interested.

The idea erased Cassandra's amused expression. She had to face the truth. By the day's end, she could be betrothed.

"Well, come on." Hecuba patted Cassandra's shoulder. "Your father is waiting for our arrival."

The Queen nudged Cassandra, and they left the room. As they walked down the hallway, Cassandra got a sudden sense of foreboding, but she couldn't run back and hide behind a locked door. No, she had to embrace her future, whatever it held.

Chapter Seven

Cassandra tapped her fingers on the table as she stared at Esdium, the wealthy landowner from Anora. He'd been droning on for what felt like an eternity about the extension of his wealth, his connection to Anora's king, and anything and everything under the sun he thought would impress her father.

It worked, or Priam led Esdium to believe he held him enthralled. It must have been a difficult act. Their visitor had a low, drawling voice Morpheus would covet. Cassandra had had to force herself awake a few times listening to him as the meal continued. How her father managed to ignore the mind-fog Esdium's words conjured, Cassandra could only imagine.

Across the table from his father sat Esdium's son, Larciss--Cassandra's suitor. He mirrored his father: round, borderline boyish face, coarse black hair, a sturdy build going soft from indulgence, and a large nose. Larciss' eyes, though, were the color of sea glass, unlike Esdium's dirt brown ones. He couldn't be called attractive, but he didn't resemble a gorgon.

Larciss sucked on his cheek while his father talked and turned his head to scan the room; nodded when he spotted a pretty servant or slave girl. A few times he caught Cassandra's glazed stare, winked, and mocked Esdium with tiny gestures no one else appeared to notice. Cassandra would sigh and sip her water. More than once she prayed to the gods to end the torture. She welcomed any means they saw fit, even if it involved the palace tumbling to pieces around them.

"Good, good," the King said after Esdium had finished his chronicle about preparing for his trip to Troy.

"You know, we had some upsets getting here," Esdium said.

Hecuba batted her eyes. "We're more than thrilled to hear about them."

Cassandra fought a groan.

"Nothing horrible could have happened, though," Priam said. "Both you and--"

"I need to stretch my legs," Larciss announced. "I feel like I've been sitting forever."

Esdium's face darkened. "Boy." His tone no longer dragged. "Apologize to the King, his queen, and daughter for your rudeness. May their hearts fill with mercy, and they spare you the good lashing you deserve."

The King smiled. "Oh, come now, Esdium." He laughed. "The boy is young and energetic. We're the fools, friend, for thinking our children could sit forever without fidgeting. He's merely bored. No harm has been done."

Esdium's face grew redder, and he glared at his son. "You're lucky, boy."

Priam turned his focus on Cassandra, and her back straightened. "Would you show Larciss the garden, especially the beautiful patch of flowers you tend?"

"Yes, my King," Cassandra said and rose from her seat; grateful for the escape. She bowed to her father and Esdium, then approached Larciss. "Come." She held out her hand and smiled wide as she knew the King watched her performance.

Larciss stood and placed her hand in the crook of his left arm. He waved at their parents. "Enjoy yourselves."

"Isn't that so sweet?" the Queen called as the two left the room. "I think they're a lovely couple."

The King and Esdium muttered possible agreement, but Cassandra couldn't tell due to her focus on the clamminess of Larciss' skin. She ached to jerk away from him, to wipe away the dampness coating her hand, but she had to play the part of a gracious princess.

Cassandra led her guest away from the dining area and out of the palace. They exited from the back, like they planned to go to the stables, but hung a sharp right on the expansive patio and found the tiled alleyway that would take them to the enormous garden Cassandra adored.

"Isn't this something?" Larciss' tone was neither appreciative nor awestruck.

Cassandra snuck a look at him. He'd pressed his mouth into a thin line, and the way his eyes roamed over the beds of bright colored flowers, exotic trees, and sweet-smelling bushes told her he'd already thought of multiple ways to destroy the carefully crafted beauty before them.

Her dislike for him solidified. Cassandra removed her hand from his arm and marched past him to the route that wound around a statue of Aphrodite and continued through a small grove of apple trees. The few servants and slaves she passed bowed to her before they returned to tending to the garden.

Larciss trailed after her. "Whoa, Princess!"

Cassandra didn't respond. She debated whether she should get him lost in the garden and leave him for a servant to find. Cassandra wouldn't get in too much trouble if he disappeared for part of the day. Cassandra might get away with her actions if she wrote it off as a juvenile mistake born from jubilance. The Queen would believe her, and Priam would go along with it to please her romantic whimsy.

Larciss surprised her by keeping up with her quick steps. "I'm speaking to you."

Cassandra stopped in front of a stone bench nestled between two apple trees. "Yes?"

Larciss collapsed on the bench. His chest rose and fell, and sweat dripped down his face, yet he managed to throw her a hard glare. "Are we going to have a conversation or are you going to continue to act like a pampered brat?"

"I could have your tongue for that."

"We both know you won't. You wouldn't dare risk your father's wrath, would you?"

Cassandra stepped close to Larciss and shoved her face into his. She refused to feign fragility further. "I will not be spoken to like this." Her hands shook with the passion of her rage, and she almost smiled at the thought of her fingers gouging his cheek.

Underneath her anger lied a river of frustration at herself. How did Larciss make her feel this way? Cassandra had a dozen brothers more annoying than Larciss. He hadn't even said anything terrible, but she loathed him.

She had to hold her emotions in check, though. She couldn't let Larciss get the better of her.

"If you wish to make it out of Troy with a body that still functions, you'll keep such comments to yourself." Cassandra's tone had calmed but hardened.

Larciss scrutinized her, then threw his head back and laughed. His loud bark startled a bird from one of the trees. "That's the kind of wife you'll be." He wiped his eyes and grinned at her. "I quite like this version of you."

Cassandra distanced herself from him as a severe warning flared within her. He wasn't right. She wondered if she should end their time in the garden and head back for the safety of the palace.

"I'm glad you dropped the righteous, virginal appearance, Princess." His gaze fixed on her and seemed to encourage her to run so he could give chase. "It was almost believable, but I know someone of your beauty couldn't have gone all these years and not given into temptation."

"How dare you question my virtue?"

Larciss smiled again. "Don't worry, Princess, I won't tell anyone. In fact, I prefer you broken in. The first time is always terrible. I wouldn't want that to taint my years with you."

"You talk as my father has already agreed to our marriage."

"It's all but sealed."

"Unless I've had other suitors with better offers."

Glee lit his expression. "Have you?"

She fixed him with a glower, sick of his company. "The heat is getting to me. I wish to leave."

Larciss cackled and stood. "Oh, so soon? I was really hoping to see those flowers of yours."

Cassandra shuddered. Never, even under penalty of death, would she show him something so dear to her. It would take her weeks to rid his presence from her part of the garden, and even then, it would never be the same for her.

"If you want to leave, Princess, I suppose we should." Larciss grasped her arm harder than acceptable. Cassandra tried to tug away from him, but he held fast. "By the time we get back the preparations for our wedding will likely be in motion." He smiled and steered her in the direction they'd come.

With each step they took toward the palace, more dread pooled into Cassandra's stomach. What if Larciss spoke the truth? What if the King thought Esdium's offer equated to the hand of his daughter? A strong, marriage-bound connection to Anora would be hard to resist.

Could I do it for Troy? Cassandra pondered as the pair left the garden and continued to the palace.

"I want only sons, now."

Cassandra tried to ignore him and the fear weighing down her shoulders, but her silence only encouraged him.

"Your father has too many daughters. You all take up space better spent on other, more important things."

I could always run, Cassandra thought; serious for the first time.

Reality reared its ugly head. She had nowhere to go, had ever been anywhere besides Troy, and she couldn't survive on her limited skills in the wild. Cassandra had to face facts. Larciss would become her husband, and she had no power to change her situation.

They entered the palace, not too far from the room where all this had started. Cassandra stared at the doors ahead and wished she could think of a clever way to stop her future. If she could get out of a terrible problem like shooting a god, this should be easy. Why didn't a good idea come to her?

"I wonder where we'll live," Larciss pondered. "Troy's fine, but Anora is dear to my heart. And I don't think I could handle your family being around so much. There are a lot of you."

"The more, the better, right?" a pleasant, rough voice said from behind the pair.

Cassandra and Larciss jumped and turned. In front of them stood a dashing man, only thirty, with poignant eyes that changed color like the ocean. His darkly bronzed skin had more scars than Cassandra remembered, and he wore his strawberry blonde hair longer than ever before (Priam would tease him for it).

A squeal escaped Cassandra as she wrenched herself from Larciss and ran to her eldest brother of Hecuba's children. Hector held out his strong arms and spun her around in the air.

Cassandra laughed. "I'm dizzy!"

Hector set her down and wrapped her in a firm hug. "I've missed you."

"Weren't you set to arrive tomorrow?"

"My eagerness got the better of me."

Cassandra kissed his cheek. "I'm glad."

Her brother squeezed her one last time and stepped back. He gazed at her. "Have you let your hunting skills get rusty in the months I've been gone?"

Cassandra flicked his muscled shoulder. "Of course not." She smirked. "Much to Deiphobus' displeasure."

"I'll have a talk with him."

"Be nice to him. He's no bother to me."

Hector tapped Cassandra's nose. "You're taking away all my fun. Why else do I come home if not to harass him?"

"Well, there is the rest of the family. And I've heard you say, once or twice, you couldn't live without us."

Hector smiled. "Once or twice." He took Cassandra's hands. "Gods, you are a breath of fresh air--The perfect balm to my battle weariness." He kissed her forehead and dropped her hands. "I wish I could spend more time with you, but I want to surprise Mother and Father. Where are they?"

Cassandra pointed at the correct doors. "In there. They're entertaining a man from Anora."

Hector's eyes roamed to Larciss, who stood behind her. His lips formed a grim line. "I see." He pulled Cassandra close again and whispered in her ear, "I'll talk to Father about this. I followed you two for some time and heard quite a lot. No sister of mine will marry someone like that pathetic excuse for a man. I promise you."

Relief loosened the knot in her chest. Priam trusted Hector's judgment--the King wouldn't have made him a general in his army if he hadn't. For the first time since she'd met Larciss, Cassandra felt Larciss and his father would leave empty-handed.

"Thank you," Cassandra said.

Hector let her go. "I haven't hunted for some time. Will you join me tomorrow morning?"

Cassandra beamed. "Yes!"

"I look forward to it." He patted her arm. "Goodbye for now."

"Goodbye."

Hector passed her and hurried to the doors. Cassandra watched him as he threw them open and stepped inside. A heartbeat later, she heard Hecuba shriek, and Cassandra smiled. It felt so good to have one of the greatest people in her life home and safe.

"I get it now," Larciss said; burst Cassandra's happy thoughts.

She glared at him. "What?"

"Why you've been so cold to me. Why you'll probably be cold to any man who seeks you."

Cassandra didn't like the smile that twisted his lips. She didn't want to dive into his perverted psyche, but she knew he would tell her regardless of how she felt. "What are you getting at?"

"You were so loving with your brother it was hard not to pick up on the obvious."

Horror filled Cassandra. She knew what he'd implied, but she asked, "The obvious?"

Larciss laughed. "Do all your family members keep the bloodline 'pure,' or are you just the first, Princess? Do the King and Queen know of your secret romance? Should I break the news to them?"

An emotion stronger than rage or hate filled Cassandra. Her blood boiled, and her vision turned red. How dare he try and ruin the relationship she had with her brother? What right did he think he had?

On quick feet, Cassandra charged her suitor. Without a moment's pause, she balled her fist and sent it flying at him with as much force as she could muster. Her knuckles met Larciss' nose with a satisfying crunch and knocked him on his ample backside. Larciss wailed like a child, and Cassandra didn't mind the pain that flared in her hand.

She didn't admire her handiwork and fled the palace. Not from fear of punishment, but because she'd lost patience with his offensive company.

Cassandra flew over the grounds, her destination the stables. She needed to feel her bow in her hands and the comforting embrace of the forest. To hell with the mess Cassandra had created with Larciss. What did it matter that she'd disgraced Troy? Cassandra couldn't find the will to care if she'd set off a fight between Troy and Anora.

Cassandra didn't even worry about the darkening sky and fierce-looking clouds overhead. They warned against her decision, but she frowned at their attempt to scare her.

"Let the storm come."

Chapter Eight

The rain fell in a constant drizzle and wouldn't have annoyed her if it wasn't bone-chillingly bitter. It coated Cassandra as she crept farther into the woods; the fantastic bow Apollo had gifted her in her hands. Before long, every bit of her dripped with cold water. A few times she thought about returning home to face the consequences for what she'd done to Larciss, but a powerful feeling turned her thoughts away from the warmth of the palace and drove her farther into the gloom of the forest.

Cassandra's eyes flickered over her surroundings, and she prayed to find a creature to hunt. It seemed all the animals had gone into hiding from the storm and she'd have no luck today. She lowered her bow and decided to instead take a stroll and let what little of the beauty of the forest could be seen calm her nerves and drain the rage and hate from her heart.

She found it hard, though, as she climbed over slick fallen logs and damp foliage. Larciss' accusation played in her mind. It wasn't true, had never been and never would be. She had nothing but innocent love for Hector. Yes, she was affectionate with him more so than with her other brothers, but the others had made it clear they were too old for hugs and kisses from their sister. Cassandra would gladly treat them like she did Hector if they only let her.

Thunder boomed and drew Cassandra's attention. Bright blue tendrils of lightning raced over the clouds, then abruptly stopped and changed course, and grew toward the ground.

"I hope that finds Larciss."

When the intense light left behind by the lightning faded, Cassandra resumed her walk. The rain fell faster, harder. The full leaves on the trees protected her from the worst, but she still flinched when the large raindrops crashed against her skin. She shook as the wind picked up and danced over her exposed flesh.

Her justification for being in the forest vanished. She had to return home. She would reside in the Underworld by the day's end if she didn't.

After arranging her bow and sheath for the hasty retreat she planned to make, Cassandra found her directional bearings and turned toward the path she knew would lead to the palace. She took one step, and thunder rumbled; the ground shook. A blinding shock of brightness filled her sight, and dread gripped Cassandra.

She shouldn't have commented about Larciss. She'd angered the Fates, and they'd chosen to retaliate. Cassandra would meet the end she'd prayed her disgusting suitor would.

Cassandra shut her eyes, unable to face her demise with courage. Her teeth bit her bottom lip as she asked the gods to make her death painless. It was selfish and brash, but she couldn't help herself.

"Stop being a fool and look at me," a familiar voice demanded.

Cassandra's eyelids flew open. Though small dots of various colors blocked most of her sight, she had no difficulties recognizing the god standing in front of her.

"I thought you were lightning meant to strike me down." She smiled despite her still racing heart.

"We're going to hunt." Apollo's voice held an edge that wiped the happiness from Cassandra's face.

"What's wrong, my Lord?"

"I want to hunt." He glared at her. "Neither you nor I will leave this forest until we each have taken down a bear!"

"My Lord, that's a nearly impossible task, made even more so in this weather. Shouldn't we wait until better conditions to try something so daring?"

Apollo's outline glowed with the intensity of his anger. "We hunt now."

What he commanded was beyond her capabilities, and even if she excelled at hunting bears (which she had never tried to do before), Cassandra would never hunt in the storm that raged around them. She opened her mouth to press her concern but thought better of it. Apollo's godly fury might drive him to lash out at her if she tried to influence his wishes.

She quelled the nervousness in her stomach and bowed. "If that's what you want, my Lord."

Apollo snapped his fingers. A quiver appeared over his shoulder, and a bow materialized in his skilled hands. The chiton and himation he wore changed into a drab and practical achition that hung just below his knees and covered his head. The delicate sandals he wore became ones any hunting enthusiast would desire. The sun god's fierce gaze swept over Cassandra, and with another snap of his fingers, her manner of dress transformed to mimic his.

"Thank you, my Lord." The warm clothes, even if they would only remain so for a moment, felt wonderful and lifted Cassandra's spirits.

Apollo responded with a curt nod, then turned toward the western part of the woods. "We begin."

Cassandra followed him as they picked their way through the forest at a determined speed. The weather, as if offended by their task, grew more perilous. The rain came down in thick sheets, and Cassandra couldn't see far in any direction. The wind blew so hard she swore it wanted to knock her to her knees.

Cassandra opened her mouth to beg Apollo to show her mercy. This was pure lunacy. They wouldn't get a bear. What had driven him to such irrationality?

Good sense closed Cassandra's mouth. Apollo flickered like a candle flame, vibrant against the violent afternoon. Cassandra worried if she spoke, he might get so upset he burst into his true form and burned her mortal body to ash. In his current state, the sun god might not notice or even care.

Though scared, Cassandra also felt concern for her friend. Why had he sneered when he'd first arrived? And what caused him mutter to himself now?

Once or twice she almost asked him but thought better of it. If he wanted to confide in her, he would. And once his anger cooled, he might tell her; might need her mortal insight.

Not long into their hunting expedition, Cassandra was soaked once more. She shivered as they crept deeper into the trees. Her thoughts turned away from Apollo's mood and onto her current state. If they didn't stop, if she didn't get to the safety of her home, she would die. All doubt over that fact had left her.

Cassandra's lips thinned into a determined, unimpressed line. She refused to go out this way, at least not without a fight. She summoned every ounce of her bravery and forced her shaking to end.

"Apollo, my Lord--"

A nerve-shredding hiss cut her off.

Cassandra stumbled as her head snapped around; her squinted gaze tried to locate the source of the noise. What had made it? Though it'd sounded like a snake, it couldn't have been one. They had hidden from the storm like every other sane animal.

On alert, Cassandra slowed her pace and took an arrow from her quiver and listened. Heavy, quick footfalls broke branches and overturned rocks somewhere to her right. She turned in time to watch a towering figure leap from the coverage of the tall trees. It sailed toward the glowing god in front of her.

"Apollo!"

The sun god spun on his heel so fast he blurred. He met the creature head-on and slammed into it so hard, when the pair fell to the muddy ground, the earth to trembled. They rolled around, broke trees and uprooted large bushes as each opponent attempted to land a deadly blow.

Cassandra kept as safe of a distance from the fight as she could. Her eyes could hardly believe what she saw. Even with the storm obscuring much of the spectacle, Cassandra could make out the monster's enormous lion head and matted chest, its white goat hindquarters, and the scaled tail that ended with a bulbous snakehead. In the middle of the chimera's body, a ferocious-looking goat's head swung back and forth; it nipped at Apollo every chance it got. The god couldn't avoid the goat head as well as the attacks the lion head delivered, and holes appeared in his achition.

As the fight continued, the chimera's tail remained focused on Cassandra. The snake's dull red eyes never left her face. Its yellow tongue flicked out of its mouth, and she swore it smiled as she gaped in horror.

It shamed her to stand in place while Apollo battled the chimera, though she'd never seen a monster before and didn't know how to act. Nothing had prepared her for this. And while she tried to work past her terror, she could only think about the snake's fangs and the venom that dripped from them. She wondered if it would kill her right after it bit her, or would the venom set her body aflame like the creature supposedly could.

The chimera's mottled brown snake tail remained content on glaring at her and, in a moment of sheer idiocy, Cassandra allowed her gaze to drift to Apollo and the rest of the monster. The god had freed himself from under the chimera and now danced around it in a full circle. A blood-covered sword had replaced his bow. The chimera moved with the god and growled while its lion and goat heads snapped at him.

Apollo stopped and let out a yell loud enough to rival the storm's thunder. He charged the monster.

Cassandra believed the sun god would vanquish his foe. He looked strong and defiant, and the glow radiating from his body was no longer harsh but as welcoming as the moon on an otherwise pitch-black night. Nothing existed he couldn't defeat.

With quick feet, the chimera pranced out of Apollo's reach. Before he could recover and attack again, the chimera's head swung around to find Apollo's calf with mouth opened wide. The chimera clamped down, and the god cried out with a mix of agony and fury.

The optimism that had surged through Cassandra's body receded as the chimera dragged Apollo closer and, while its teeth still clutched his calf, raked its front claws over the god's chest and arms. Apollo stabbed at the monster when he could, but the chimera was merciless in its purpose and didn't allow him many chances. Apollo's shrieks lost their angry undertone as the fight raged on and the monster stripped his flesh from his bones. Ichor stained the ground.

Cassandra didn't know if monsters could kill gods. From specific stories, it appeared they could, but nothing had ever been made clear. If they could, though, it wouldn't be long before the god she'd befriended died. Then the creature would turn on her, and what could she do then? She was a mere mortal, with a weapon that--

Could kill men, beasts, monsters, and gods.

Cassandra readied her bow with the arrow she'd forgotten she held. Serenity flooded through her as, for the first time since the chimera had attacked, she thought clearly. As an afterthought, Cassandra noticed the rain had stopped. The sky still looked gray and cold, but the storm had ended like the gods had decided to give her a real chance at destroying the chimera.

She sent a prayer of thanks as she took aim at the snakehead. The head noticed her movements and hissed. It drew back, but Cassandra ignored it. When she had an exact shot, she let the arrow go. It flew at its target and embedded itself into the skull of the snake. It died in an instant.

The other two heads of the chimera screamed, and the entire monster whirled around--dropped its current prey--to face Cassandra. She already had another arrow prepared and didn't allow herself to hesitate as the beast advanced on her. She sought out the goat head, and a moment later the arrow shaft jutted out the head's left eye. The head howled once before it convulsed and went limp.

The final head roared, and the chimera's body crouched low; its hind legs quivered with anticipation. Murder glinted in its wild eyes. Cassandra would die if she missed her next shot.

The pressure of succeeding threatened to make her falter, but Cassandra forced all thought from her head. She adjusted her form and remained calm as she waited for the advantage to slay the monster for good.

Time slowed to a halt as a stalemate raged between the two, and Cassandra grew worried. If the chimera didn't make a move soon, she'd be forced to reevaluate her plan of attack; she couldn't hold her position forever. Cassandra wished she had a hunting knife on her, but Apollo hadn't given her one, and she never carried one on her at the palace. Any stick she picked up wouldn't be sharp enough to pierce the chimera's flesh, though she wouldn't have time wrap her fingers around a stick before the creature attacked.

What desperate thing could she do--?

In her peripheral vision, she saw Apollo's battered body jerk, and he groaned. The chimera tensed but its attention stayed on her. Inspiration hit Cassandra. She turned slightly like the god's sudden movement had distracted her.

The chimera bought the trick and threw back its lion head. It snarled in triumph and gave her the advantage she needed. Cassandra wasted no time. She fixed her aim, then fired. Before the monster had a chance to utter another sound the arrow struck its neck. It severed the main artery there, and blood gushed from the wound. A look like surprise contorted the chimera's lion face, and then it collapsed in a heap.

Shock overwhelmed Cassandra, and tears leaked from her eyes. For reasons she didn't dare question, the Fates had seen fit when spinning her life's thread to have her overcome the most challenging ordeal in all her years.

"Thank you," she sobbed. "Oh, gods, thank you!"

Chapter Nine

Cassandra's happiness continued to flow down her cheeks while she trembled from the wind running over her damp clothes. In time, her body's chill overtook the excitement from her unbelievable good luck, and she stopped crying to rub her hands over her exposed flesh. It did little to help.

"Ca...sandra..." A pitiful voice moaned. "Cassan...dra?"

As Cassandra approached the voice's source, she felt guilty she hadn't immediately run to Apollo to assess the damage done to him once the danger had passed. She kneeled in the mud beside him and examined the mess before her. She gulped. Oh, gods, he looked horrible.

The chimera's sharp claws had torn bone-deep scratches all over his torso, neck, and face; the loose skin of the cuts wiggled with the gusty wind. His hunting achition resembled a shredded rag. Blood and saliva from the monster mixed with Apollo's own blood and clotted all his wounds.

His calf looked the worst, though. A chunk of skin and muscle was missing from the side. Stark white bone glinted at her through the gore.

The sight of it reminded her of the time she and Helenus, age eight, had climbed trees. Like always happened, a friendly competition had started between the two, and each one attempted to get higher than the other. Cassandra had been winning that day, and in Helenus' riled desire to beat her, he hadn't paid attention to the thin branches above him.

Cassandra had noticed and cried out to her brother, but too late. Helenus grabbed the wood and attempted to hoist himself up, his tongue stuck out at her. A heartbeat later, a loud snap filled the air and Helenus crashed to the earth.

A scream had followed, and Cassandra shimmied down the tree at lightning speed to investigate. She'd found Helenus on his back, his right arm underneath him in the most uncomfortable-looking position. A bone had broken through the skin, and though astonished, Cassandra had reacted quickly to the unusual sight, and her brother hadn't had to suffer too long.

Cassandra summoned the strength she'd had as a child and attacked the situation. She tore the bottom of her soaked achition and pulled away a nice-sized piece of material. Cassandra wrung out what water she could, then folded it to fit in her hand. She reached for the most terrible place on Apollo's face. Apollo's fingers wrapped around her wrist and stopped her.

"The...mon..ster? Where is...it?" His eyes blazed like miniature suns.

"Over there." Cassandra pointed at the unmoving carcass. "Don't worry. I killed it."

A smile stretched Apollo's bruised, puffy lips as he dropped her wrist. "Really, you? That's incredible!"

Cassandra shrugged. "I did what I had to."

"You had the option of running. You should have done so."

Cassandra frowned. "Then the chimera would have--You'd be a lot worse off than you are."

"I would have deserved it for the way I treated you." Apollo grasped her hand in both of his and sat up; he expelled a pain-filled grunt. "Dear Cassandra," he whispered, then cleared his throat and forced the agony from his expression. "Can you find it in your heart to forgive me for how I acted earlier? It had nothing to do with you. A small family matter set me on edge, and I was terrible to take it out on you. "

His warm gaze brought a blush to Cassandra's cheeks. "You're not terrible." She looked at the piece of wool she held. "Everyone has days like that. I'm just glad to find out it was nothing too serious. I was worried about you."

Apollo brushed his fingertips against her chin. "You are an amazing mortal. I was blessed the day you shot me."

The heat of Apollo's touch and his gentle tone had Cassandra's heart pounding much faster than her encounter with the chimera. A strange fluttering erupted in her stomach. She rationalized it had to be left over nerves from the attack finally kicking in at the most unfortunate of times.

Right?

Of course, it was, Cassandra told herself. What else would have her emotions spiraling, threatening to burst inside of her?

Silence engulfed them, and Cassandra grew uncomfortable with the way Apollo still held her chin. She pulled away from him as politely as possible. Apollo sighed.

To end the quiet and Apollo's irked feelings, Cassandra pointed at his calf. The bleeding had stopped, and new muscle already hid the bone. "I'm so glad you're healing."

Apollo glanced at the fading wound and nodded. "It won't take too long for me to fully recover. It would be much faster if I had ambrosia."

"Conjure some then."

"I can't."

"Too weak still?"

"No. The Council," Apollo pointed at the sky, "believes it's too dangerous for us gods to have it on us when we're around mortals. They're terrified one of you may steal it."

"Wouldn't it kill a mortal if they consumed it?"

"That was my point, but others couldn't overcome their paranoia, so they made a preposterous verdict."

Cassandra started to stand. "I should leave and--"

"No!"

His outburst caused Cassandra to fall onto her rear in surprise.

Apollo took her hand. "Trust me, your presence is better than all the ambrosia on Mount Olympus."

Cassandra blushed again as she repositioned herself into a better sitting position; Apollo continued holding her hand. "What about medicine? You should know a remedy that will help you."

"I do. Several."

"Use them, please. I don't like seeing you in so much pain."

Apollo shook his head. "I can't."

"Is it forbidden as well?"

"No, but I don't believe in using my abilities meant for others on myself. It doesn't feel right. Besides, I figure whatever I've done that requires aid was caused by me being foolish." The god chuckled. "To date, I've yet to find fault in my logic."

Cassandra smiled but still felt concerned. "Will you be all right until you return to normal?"

"In no time and with hardly any discomfort, I'll be fit to be ambushed by whatever other monsters want to challenge me. Maybe next time I'll put up a decent fight."

Cassandra laughed. "I'm sure you will."

Apollo dropped Cassandra's hand and leaned back on his palms. "So, what brought you out into this weather? Looking for a thrill?"

"I was angry, too." A pang of hatred jolted her heart as she thought of Larciss.

"About?"

"I had my first suitor today."

Apollo studied her. "Did he harm you in any way?"

"Not really, no."

"Cassandra..."

"He just implied something horrible about me but forget it. I'm trying to. What he said isn't true, and that's what matters."

Rage flickered in Apollo's eyes. "What's this mortal's name?"

"Please, Apollo, let the issue go."

Cassandra watched him battle his urges and prayed he'd choose the logical outcome. While she wanted unpleasant things to happen to Larciss, she didn't want to unleash a vengeful god on him. She didn't want to be responsible for his death.

A glow engulfed Apollo. Cassandra went to defuse his anger, but before a word escaped her, she sneezed. Violent shaking possessed her body as a bitter coldness spread throughout her limbs. She wrapped her arms around her chest for what little warmth she could muster.

Apollo's expression changed to concern and his color returned to normal. He pressed a wrist to her forehead. "You're freezing."

Cassandra's teeth chattered. "I'm...I'm just a little c-cold."

"No, you're very bad off. You need to go home."

"I want to stay with you until y-you're better."

Apollo pointed at various wounds, now closed and fading into scars. "I am better. You're going home. Don't argue with me."

Cassandra's mind latched onto the promise of warmth home offered. "Yes, my Lord."

Apollo stood. "I wish I could escort you like I should." He wobbled. "I don't trust myself right now, though, to make the swift trip required. Do you know your way back?"

Cassandra nodded.

"Good."

He offered his hand to her. Cassandra took it, and he helped her to her feet. She thought he'd release his hold and went to take a step backward, but in less than a heartbeat, he embraced her.

The places where they touched grew very warm and small jolting pulses coursed through Cassandra. The sensations astonished her by their pleasantness, and she couldn't resist pressing herself nearer. Apollo's scent engulfed her then, as spicy and fresh as the air at dawn. She breathed deeply, committed his smell to memory.

Just as quickly as he'd hugged her, Apollo placed a firm kiss on her forehead, right above her eyebrows. A searing pain like fire spread from the spot and crawled toward her eyes. Cassandra gasped as she tore away from the god. Her sight left her. Nothing remained but terrifying blackness.

A muffled scream escaped her as she pawed at her eyes. "What did you do to me?"

Apollo offered no reply. Another scream built in Cassandra's throat when the blackness dimmed. She made out a distinct shape which she latched onto. As she focused, the shape became a shadowed figure holding an object--a bowl, maybe a ball--away from itself. A dazzling white dove, a small, yet fierce-looking owl, and a majestic, rainbow-painted peacock appeared before the figure. The figure swung its cupped hands back and forth between the birds before stopping in front of the dove.

Dread flooded Cassandra's veins as the scene faded and her opened eyes could see the gray woods once more. Nausea churned her stomach, and her heart pounded in her chest. Somehow, she knew she'd just witnessed a dramatic future decision, one with a disastrous fallout.

"What did you see?"

"I...I don't know exactly." Cassandra fixed her squinted gaze on him; ignored how harsh the dim afternoon light was in her eyes. Unexpected anger consumed the sickness and horror brought on by the recent episode. "What did you do to me?"

Apollo wouldn't meet her gaze. "Don't be upset with me." He spoke to his feet. "I couldn't stop myself. You deserved something grand for everything you did today."

"What?"

Apollo raised his head and met Cassandra's hot glare. "I've given you a great gift."

Oh no, Cassandra thought. Whatever he'd done to her had instantly and irreversibly changed the course of her life. "What is it?"

A tentative smile upturned Apollo's almost healed lips. "The gift of prophecy."

Part Two

Chapter Ten

Cassandra eased her bedchamber door open and winced as the unoiled hinges screamed and blasted apart the early morning quiet. She paused when the door had been pulled back enough, and she could stick her head out into the hallway. Cassandra gazed in both directions, and half expected one of her sisters to burst out of their bedchamber to investigate the noise she'd made.

It never happened. All seemed well, undisturbed. Cassandra crept out of her bedchamber and shut her door behind her. She cursed under her breath as the hinges moved without further complaint.

Cassandra kept to the wall while she scurried down the left side of the hall. She moved like a thief; her sandals in her hands so her feet whispered across the stone floor.

She had to admit, it thrilled her to sneak away from her wrongful confinement. A smile stretched her lips. If only Deiphobus could see her, he'd be stunned to permanent speechlessness.

Most her journey progressed uneventfully. Twice, though, Cassandra heard footsteps. In an instant, she hid in the shadows of the nearest doorway. She knew the tactic didn't conceal her much, but if the person passed her, maybe in the weak light of the dying torches lining the wall, they would think her a servant or slave and not bother to inspect.

When Cassandra reached her destination, a small room used to store extra linens, she let out a breath she'd held ever since she'd made the decision to forgo the punishment placed upon her because of the incident with Larciss. Cassandra had wanted to do it ever since she'd recovered from the fever she'd come down with after her last trip to the forest, but she hadn't had a good reason to until this morning. Cassandra had woken to an emerald-colored snake licking her cheek-- Apollo's message to her that he wanted to see her as soon as possible.

The sign had brought welcomed relief. For days, visions made worse by her illness had bothered Cassandra. Some had been pleasant, like the recurring one of a young man holding her close while a red glow surrounded them. Cassandra never saw his face, but she didn't mind. His very presence left her excited and lightheaded.

But most of her prophecies were horrible. Like the one of fire as far as Cassandra could see and the bloodcurdling screams that had echoed in her head for hours afterward. Or the one of a battlefield filled with thousands of men hacking at one another. Above the fighting hovered human-like shapes. They never solidified into anything Cassandra recognized, but she knew they were powerful, maybe the gods.

After every vision, even the nice ones, Cassandra shook, scared out of her wits. They came upon her at unexpected times and immersed her so thoroughly, it took her long after they passed to regain her bearings.

Overall, she hated her gift.

Cassandra yearned to plead with Apollo to take it back, but she knew the sun god wouldn't, and might make it worse if she complained. So, she'd accepted she would have to keep her gift. She needed to learn how to control it, though, and that's why Cassandra had hoped for a message from Apollo for them to meet.

The room had a large window. Next to it, on the outside wall, ivy grew. The plant had ruined the stone, created gaps in the wall all the way down to the ground wide enough for Cassandra's hands and feet. Cassandra pushed open the window and tossed out her sandals; they bounced on the grass before they came to rest.

She calmed her nerves and put her few reservations from mind. Cassandra tied her peplos into a comfortable fashion that offered mobility and then climbed onto the window's ledge. She stuck a leg into the sweet freedom crying out to her.

"What are you doing?" an intense voice boomed behind her.

A squeal tore from Cassandra's lips as she scrambled away from the window's ledge. In her hurry, she lost her balance and tumbled to the floor. Her body came alive, and she groaned.

"What happened to that instinctual balance you used to brag about?" the voice demanded in a happier tone.

Cassandra rose to her feet and inspected the throbbing parts of her limbs. She'd sustained no severe injuries, but she'd have bothersome bruises. Finished, she glared at Hector, who stood at the room's entrance. He held his sides. His face had turned dark red from the laughter he contained.

"Do you know who you sounded like?"

"Father?"

"Worse. Deiphobus."

Her brother's thin control broke. The loud roar of his laugh belted from his mouth, and Cassandra blanched. She crossed the floor to Hector and had to step on the tip of her toes to clamp her hand over his lips to kill the aggressive sound.

"Are you trying to ensure I spend the rest of my life locked in my bedchamber?"

Hector shrugged. His eyes glowed with his amusement.

"Stay quiet, please."

Hector removed her hand. "I don't think I should." He smiled. "This attempt at escape is so pitiful you deserve further punishment for it."

Cassandra backed away from him. "It's not that bad."

"Ah, but we both know I taught you better."

"I'm a tad out of practice. I still would have gotten away perfectly fine."

"You stomped through the hall like some beast. I'm surprised the whole palace didn't wake from the sheer force of your footsteps."

"It didn't, so it's safe for me to continue. And I'm going to."

Her brother held up his hands. "I'm not here to stop you. I actually came all this way to visit you, but since you're set on leaving, I'll only warn you."

Cassandra braced herself.

"Deiphobus has been expecting something like this from you, so he and Polites have

taken to patrolling the grounds near the forest."

Cassandra sighed. Deiphobus and Polites had fantastic eyesight. If they were on the lookout for her, they'd spot her even if she used all her skill to remain hidden. She couldn't escape.

Hector leaned in close. "Take the eastern gate. Only the servants are up now. If you're swift enough, you'll reach it unnoticed."

Cassandra giggled as she threw her arms around Hector. She hugged her brother tight, a gesture he returned. Before they parted, he planted a kiss on her cheek.

"I hope you enjoy yourself."

"Thank you." She faced the window.

Without further interruptions, Cassandra climbed down the wall. She gathered her sandals, slipped them on, then ran toward the eastern gate. She stuck to the shadows, though she didn't pass a single soul. Much like her trek from her bedchamber to the linen room, nothing interesting occurred. She reached the eastern gate, ventured off the paved path, and fled into the forest.

The morning warmed while she made her way to Apollo. The sky lost the remaining orange and pink of dawn and flourished into a dazzling, cloudless blue; a magnificent start to the day.

The soft, captivating notes of a song met Cassandra's ears and sounded more beautiful than any music she'd ever heard. She followed the song, much against her will, and came upon the designated meeting spot. There, the sun god sat with his back against a tree. Apollo held a simple white lyre and strummed his fingers against the taut strings.

He smiled when Cassandra came into view. Before she could greet him, the god began to sing a joyful song about a poor man's love for an unhappy, married woman he convinces to run away with him. It ended with the pair dying old, their hands intertwined. The emotion he put behind the lyrics drew tears from Cassandra's eyes.

Cassandra burst into wild applause when the song finished. The lyre vanished from sight, and Apollo stood. He bowed.

Cassandra wiped her wet face. "You're amazing."

Apollo straightened his posture and approached Cassandra. "Thank you." He grasped her right hand and held it between his hot palms. "How have you been?"

She didn't hide the truth. "I've been miserable."

Apollo nodded. "The visions."

"Will I ever be able to control them?"

"Of course. It will take much practice, but you're an intelligent, quick young woman. It shouldn't take long."

Relief flooded Cassandra. Deep down, she'd believed the gift of prophecy wouldn't ruin her life. Apollo had granted others the farseeing ability, and they weren't mad or depressed. Aesacus, Priam's oldest son from his first wife Arisbe, was a priest of Apollo. The seer acted oddly at times but otherwise appeared to live fine.

But Aesacus had been raised as a priest as soon as it had been made clear he had Apollo's favor. He'd never known anything but servitude. He'd never been in the position of Cassandra. So, what did that mean for her?

Apollo squeezed Cassandra's hand. "What troubles you?"

"How will your gift change my life? Can I go on and get married like what is expected of me?"

"I hadn't thought of that." Apollo gazed into the distance. "You could...become one of my priestesses."

"No."

The response slipped out of Cassandra without thought. The god's eyes flashed, and he flung her hand away.

"I don't--It's too early for me to even consider that." Cassandra reached for her friend. She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings.

Apollo shrugged her off. Cassandra wouldn't surrender. She cupped his cheek and didn't flinch at the burning sensation of his skin.

"I need to understand what's going on with me first."

The fire in his eyes faded, and the heat under his skin extinguished. Apollo leaned into her touch. "Forgive me. I forget this is all new to you."

Cassandra beamed. "I forgive you." She patted his cheek before stepping away.

"Ready for your first lesson?"

"Yes."

And it began.

For half the day, Cassandra worked to keep the visions from consuming her. Apollo forced false prophecies to plague her and talked her through the various images she saw. He stressed Cassandra couldn't lose sense of her body, of herself. She had to keep a firm grip on her mind no matter what the visions showed her. If she didn't, she'd go insane.

By her sixth attempt, sweat soaked Cassandra's peplos. For brief moments she ruled the visions, but then her will crumbled, and the prophecies would overtake her. Each time, Apollo had to rip her from them and bring her back to the forest.

Finally, she'd reached her limit. Cassandra fell against the sun god and bawled. The task seemed impossible.

Apollo embraced her. "No, don't." He tipped her head back. His thumb brushed across her trembling lips. "You did wonderfully today; much better than I anticipated. You'll get there, I promise."

The god's caress felt as surprising as cold water. Her stomach knotted, and her heart leaped into her throat. A blush crept across her cheeks.

"I...I should go back."

"Yes..."

Cassandra thought he would kiss her. She swore he bent toward her. The air grew warmer, and she couldn't breathe.

The instant ended. Apollo's lips never connected with hers. Instead, he released her, and much-needed air rushed into Cassandra's lungs.

"Goodbye, my Lord."

"Goodbye."

Apollo didn't spare her a glance before he disappeared.

Chapter Eleven

The blush wouldn't leave Cassandra's cheeks. She pressed her palms to her face in vain hope to cool her inflamed skin. No reprieve came. If it didn't end, Cassandra knew she'd turn to ash. Her pulse still thundered in her ears; her breathing so unmeasured she feared she'd pass out. Her entire body shook.

What just happened? Why had Apollo been so tender--so unusual--with her? Had Cassandra confused an innocent gesture from one friend to another for something more profound? Had she been correct about Apollo being on the verge of kissing her? Or had it only been imaginative thinking on her part?

If he had kissed her, would she have kissed him back? Cassandra cared for the sun god--his friendship was luxury like no other--but were her feelings any stronger than what she had for her family? If Apollo had intentions to shift their relationship into the uncharted waters of romance, would she be comfortable with it?

Every moment with Apollo excited Cassandra. But if he wanted her, why? Cassandra knew of her beauty, but it meant nothing. Dozens of goddesses and creatures existed more alluring than her, and the sun god could obtain any one of them without much effort. What would he want with a mortal like her?

No, Cassandra had interrupted the situation wrong. Her training had exhausted her, and she'd imagined Apollo's touch as something more than he'd intended. They were just friends.

With that conclusion, Cassandra corralled her unruly body. She sighed, surprised a shred of disappointment stuck to her and no matter how she tried, she couldn't shake it. Had she wanted that kiss?

She pondered this as she moved forward without paying much attention to the direction she took. If honest with herself, Cassandra found she wouldn't dislike a kiss from Apollo. The sun god would undoubtedly make it an event she'd never forget.

A large part of her rose up and chastised the whimsical hunger inside her. It would be a poor idea to shift her bond with Apollo. What if it went sour, as so many of the gods' romantic affairs with mortals did? Cassandra would hate to lose Apollo's friendship.

No, she would do best to ignore her girlish desire. It couldn't mean much, anyway. It'd come upon her so swiftly she was sure it'd be gone just as fast. She shouldn't dwell on it.

Sadness overwhelmed Cassandra. She stopped in her tracks and leaned against a tree. A few tears leaked from her eyes before Cassandra could force her emotions into hiding. She grew furious with herself. Why did she act so foolish?

She had to cease this nonsense. Cassandra had been gone for much too long and had no doubt been missed. She needed to get home as soon as possible.

Cassandra pushed herself from the tree and looked around. Her lips pursed. She didn't recognize this part of the woods. She shook her head and scolded her stupidity.

She didn't waste time debating on which direction to take. Cassandra forged forward and figured she'd come to the end of the forest eventually. Once clear of the trees, she could decide where to go from there.

Her footsteps were quick. She thought of the chimera attack and grew weary of remaining in the forest without her bow and arrows or Apollo. The monster had likely only shown itself because of the sun god, but she wasn't sure enough to dawdle any more than necessary.

Soon the forest ended, and Cassandra entered a lush field. Numerous fat, content cattle dotted the area; pulled at the vibrant grass with their teeth. They chewed the vegetation and glanced at Cassandra as she passed by them. A tiny hut with a quaint, tidy barn beside it lay in the distance, and she angled herself toward it. The owner would set her right.

"You!" a sardonic voice thundered from Cassandra's left.

She jumped, and a few cows mooed in surprise. Cassandra turned and met the blazing violet-green eyes of the slim man who strode toward her. Red highlights streaked his light brown, coiled hair. His deeply tanned face was handsome in a mischievous, exhilarating way Cassandra had never seen before.

The man halted so close to Cassandra he could reach out and touch her if he wanted. "What are you doing on my property?"

"I'm--"

"Bothering my cows."

Cassandra reacted to the man's interruption as if she'd been slapped. Never had a commoner taken such a tone with her. Most cowered in her presence, and all showered her with respect, lest they wanted to feel the wrath of her father.

"I-I..."

"Were you planning on stealing them?" The man's thin lips curled into a cruel sneer. "Not too bright of you to come in the middle of the day. Or are you merely a distraction? I'll no doubt head home and find I've been robbed. Is that your plan?"

Anger loosened Cassandra's tongue and straightened her spine. She pinned the man with a glare of her own. "I'm no thief." She wielded her words like a whip. "And you'll be wise to cease speaking to me in such a manner."

"And why is that?"

"Don't you recognize me, you fool?"

The man's gaze drifted from the top of Cassandra's head to her sandals, then snapped back to her face. "Am I supposed to?"

"I'm a princess of Troy, and if I wanted any of your herd or your possessions I could have them without the need to trick them away from you."

Cassandra didn't like uttering what she had, and would never take so heartlessly from her people, but she didn't mind hurling the threat at such an unpleasant individual.

"What is a princess doing so far from her palace?" The glint in his eyes told Cassandra he didn't believe her.

"What makes you think you're privy to that information?"

"You're the one who trespassed on my land, so I'll get the answers I mandate."

"Not in this era." Cassandra turned on her heel, opposed to spending any more time with this insufferable man. There had to be a road nearby. She'd find it herself and let it lead her to someone willing to lend her aid.

She'd not taken more than five steps before the man called to her. "I'm sorry." His voice had lost its hostility. "I didn't mean to insult you."

He sounded sincere. For reasons Cassandra didn't understand, his genuineness spoke to her, and she halted. She took a deep breath before she focused back on the shepherd.

"I had no intention of stealing from you. I'm not that type of person."

The man had the decency to look ashamed. "I realize that. I overreacted, and I'm terribly sorry. Over the last few days, I've had some trouble." He shook his head. "I should have known better, though. You don't have the...appearance of a thief."

"And what do I have the appearance of?"

The man rubbed his chin. "Hmm...possibly a princess."

All Cassandra's anger evaporated, and she laughed. The man joined her, and the noise was so boisterous the closest cow scuttled away. The pair chuckled harder.

"I'm Dimus," the man said once his laughter had died away. "Are you truly a princess of Troy?"

"Yes, I am."

"And which one of King Priam's lovely daughters have I had the pleasure of meeting?"

"I'm Cassandra."

"Cassandra." Her name tumbled from his mouth like a soft prayer. He held her gaze, then nodded at the forest. "Why were you in there?"

"I like the forest. It's one of my favorite places."

"You go in there by yourself?"

"I'm hardly ever alone." She almost smiled. If only he knew.

"Is today one of those rare days where you had the misfortune of no companionship?"

"Yes," Cassandra lied.

"And let me guess. You got lost. That's why you've stumbled onto my field."

Cassandra sighed. "I can't believe it happened. I've spent a good amount of my life in those woods. I should know it like my own bedchamber."

"Everyone has an off day."

Dimus smirked. The gesture played with his features instead of contorting them like when he'd first confronted Cassandra; it heightened his attractiveness. Cassandra could barely keep her eyes from exploring his face. Dimus noticed and winked at her, and Cassandra dropped her attention to the cows behind him; her cheeks flushed.

"Would you like to know how to get back to the palace?" He sounded close to chortling again.

"If you'd be so kind." Cassandra refused to tear her concentration from the cattle. She couldn't bear to embarrass herself further.

"Do you mind if I show you?" Dimus reached for Cassandra's elbow. She allowed him to take it, and he led her back to the forest but a bit of a distance from where she'd exited from. He stopped before a well-trodden trail.

"Follow this until it forks into two separate paths. Take the left one, and it will lead you to a road I'm sure you'll recognize. It shouldn't be difficult from there for you to find your way home." He released Cassandra.

"Thank you."

Dimus bowed. "It was a pleasure." He straightened and took Cassandra's hand. He brought it to his lips. "Can I expect to see you again?"

"Possibly." Cassandra removed her hand from his grasp.

"I can't wait."

Dimus turned and retreated to his cattle. Cassandra watched him for longer than necessary, then fled into the forest. She raced over the trail; her emotions a jumble of confusion, happiness, and regret. They didn't stop her from making a vow that thrilled her as much as the idea of kissing Apollo did: she would revisit Dimus.

Chapter Twelve

Two gore-splattered men held Polyxena between them. The fat of youth had melted from her face to reveal straight, striking lines and her body had matured into attractive curves. The torn, dirty peplos she wore exposed parts of her battered torso and legs.

A man stepped in front of the terrified princess. He backhanded Polyxena and the two men that kept her prisoner snickered. Polyxena gasped, and blood trickled out of her mouth--she'd bitten her tongue. The man who'd hit her dragged a finger through the blood that stained her chin. His full lips broke into a horrible grin. The breath caught in Polyxena's throat and she struggled against the men's grip.

The man with the princess' blood drying on his finger glanced from Polyxena and took in the sight of Troy burning in the background. The entire city glowed with unholy light. Cries of anguish and fear filled the fast-approaching night. Combating the sounds of the damned were the cheers of Troy's attackers.

"Cassandra?"

The concerned voice broke the tight grip of the vision and knocked Cassandra into reality. Her dizziness made her queasy as her eyes focused on her environment--her part of the palace garden. Nearby, Paris and Polyxena gazed at her as if she'd grown another head.

Cassandra drank in the uninjured sight of Polyxena. Her sister was safe; hadn't a care in the world. Someday, though, somebody would harm her while Troy collapsed in the distance.

No, maybe what Cassandra had seen had only symbolized events to unfold. Apollo had made it clear during her third training session all her prophecies would come to pass, but not every image revealed to her was literal. Maybe...maybe the wounded, trapped older version of Polyxena simply meant Cassandra's beloved sister would be left devastated and heartbroken in the future.

And what of Troy ablaze? What could that prophecy mean other than what it presented? How did it connect with Cassandra's desperate hope she'd only witnessed a dramatic expression of Polyxena's unhappiness over a lost love?

Paris stepped toward Cassandra. "Are you all right?" He made a tentative move to comfort her, and Cassandra recoiled.

As sure as she was of her own name, Cassandra knew the vision that had gripped her so suddenly and so powerfully that she hadn't had the chance to control the situation all came about because of Paris' future actions.

Paris frowned, and the hurt reflected in his eyes ripped through Cassandra's all-consuming apprehension. Since his arrival, Paris had been nothing but kind and well-mannered. He never tried too hard to fit in with his long-lost family. He accepted they all needed time to adjust, though it hadn't taken long. Everyone loved him and treated him as if he'd been raised with his siblings. Even Deiphobus handled Paris well; adored every moment he spent in his older brother's presence.

Paris couldn't bring pain to anyone. He would instead turn a blade on himself before plunging it into someone else's chest. Cassandra's gut-instinct lied.

"Yes, of course," Cassandra said. She wiped away the sweat that had gathered on her brow during her vision. "It's this heat."

"It's not that warm," Polyxena said. She looked at the overcast sky. "It's going to rain. I can smell it."

"Yes, well..." Cassandra trailed off.

Paris watched her, his eyes shadowed with worry. Polyxena's attention with the conversation had already evaporated; she chased a white and purple butterfly through the flowers Cassandra had cultivated. On any other day, she'd tell the child to behave, but she couldn't bring herself to raise her voice. Besides, any damaged flowers would grow back.

"I think I should go lie down," Cassandra told Paris.

"Would you like me to escort?"

Cassandra shook her head and pointed at their distracted sister. "I'd hate to ruin her fun." She flashed a smile. "I'll be fine, I swear. I just need a little rest."

Paris regarded Cassandra. The skin around his mouth went taught, a gesture many of the King's children shared when dissatisfied but trying to conceal it. To placate him the best she could, Cassandra squeezed Paris' hand until her brother's expression softened.

"I hope you feel better," he said.

Cassandra called goodbye to Polyxena before she hurried into the palace. She wished she could stay outside longer--only two days before Cassandra had been given leave from her confinement--but Cassandra hadn't lied when she'd told Paris she needed to relax. Her most current vision had upset her more than any before it; so much so all the progress she'd gained over the past five days had evaporated. Her stomach rolled, threatened to expel her the meal she'd eaten before going to the garden.

The palace buzzed with activity. A marvelous party had been planned for the Queen's birthday. Every servant and slave moved with purpose, all seemed eager to make their Queen's celebration one she'd never forget. No one noticed Cassandra's quick passage to her bedchamber, or if they did, they didn't care.

She pushed open her door, thoughts focused on the promise of sleep and jerked with surprise. A tall, older man with a belly rounded by wine sat on her bed. His golden robes announced his prized station and had the added benefit of complementing his black hair and vibrant brown eyes--traits he'd inherited from his mother.

Cassandra smiled at Aesacus. "To what do I owe this visit?"

Her brother pointed at the door. "Close it, please." He had a voice much like the King, only rougher as if he had gravel caught in his throat.

"As you wish." Cassandra did as he'd asked, then faced Aesacus. "Why are you here? I was about to take a nap."

The barest hint of amusement danced in Aesacus' eyes. "You've been keeping an interesting secret."

The time she'd spent with Dimus flooded her mind. They'd only talked, much like she did with Apollo, but that didn't matter. Cassandra was forbidden to fraternize with a man the King did not approve of. If found out, her virtue would be questioned, she would be cast out to beg on the streets, and Dimus would die.

The seer wouldn't come to her first if his talent had revealed to him Cassandra had misbehaved, would he? Shouldn't he have gone to the King with his knowledge? Aesacus' first duty was to his father, not a sister he hardly saw.

"A secret? Whatever do you mean?" Her steady, nonchalant tone didn't betray her hammering heart.

"I don't know how you've gained Apollo's favor, but the god has granted you the mighty gift of prophecy. It seems your mother was right after all," he added, more to himself than to his sister.

Aesacus' statement floored Cassandra. "I-I--What makes you say that?"

"Don't worry." Her brother offered her a rare, brilliant smile that transformed his stern face, so it glowed with alluring benevolence. "I've no intention of exposing you. I only wish for you to tell me what's been revealed to you since you've gained the sight. Most specifically, anything to do with your brother Paris."

"Why?"

Aesacus regarded her, and his pleasant expression faded. He nodded. "I'm going to trust you with information you are not to repeat." His hushed voice forced Cassandra closer to the seer. "The King didn't give Paris away at birth because he was ill. No, I had a vision while your mother was laboring, and what I discovered forced Father's rash decision."

Cassandra's stomach dropped to the floor. "What did you see?"

Her brother rubbed the space between his thick eyebrows. "I saw Troy ablaze with soldiers running around, pillaging and killing the people. Between the images of carnage your brother's face loomed, and I knew he'd done something to cause the destruction."

Fear gripped Cassandra's heart. Aesacus was Priam's favorite prophet, not because of blood, but because whatever was revealed to the seer always came true. If she'd had the same visions as someone as experienced as Aesacus, that had to mean they would come to pass. Polyxena would be tortured. Cassandra's home would fall to ruin. And all because of Paris.

"Have...have you had that vision since then?" she asked and held her terror at bay. If her brother hadn't, then she couldn't trust her prophecies. Someone who'd been a seer for decades would have had such an earth-shattering vision since the lost prince's return.

Aesacus shook his head. "All I've seen lately is you."

Sharp relief flooded Cassandra. "And what makes you think I would have had a prophecy about it?"

"Mere curiosity. Have you?"

"No."

The prophet scrutinized Cassandra, and from the way his mouth tightened, she knew he suspected her lying. Aesacus sighed. "I've heard he's a well-adjusted young man, and I'm sure he is, but you must not ignore your visions. As frightening as they can be, they must be addressed. It's a gift from the gods to aid us, vulnerable mortals."

"Of course." Cassandra kept her eyes trained on her brother as she uttered her next lie. "I'll be sure to come to you if I ever see anything about Paris."

Aesacus didn't believe her, and they both knew it. Cassandra expected the seer to press the issue, but he astounded her by rising from her bed. He gazed at her until she grew uncomfortable, then patted her on the shoulder.

"You can easily find me when another--If you have a vision. I'm more than willing to help you control the sight, as well."

He strode past Cassandra and exited the room.

She watched him leave before she threw herself on her bed. For a moment, Cassandra felt guilty for deceiving the seer, but she quelled the emotion. Aesacus was mistaken, her prophecies showed nonsense. They upset her only because she'd yet to adapt to her gift.

Cassandra clung to her rationalization and drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Thirteen

The celebration had hit its peak. People gorged themselves on an endless supply of food. There was more wine than water in the Mediterranean Sea. Not one could resist the loud, exuberant music. No shortage of smiles or laughter existed.

Cassandra didn't enjoy any of it.

Hours ago, while she dressed for the party, she'd been dazed by a vision. It'd been the one she'd had when Apollo had first given her the gift of prophecy, though changed quite a bit.

Paris still held the round object--a gold-plated apple, inscribed with the words 'to the fairest'--as he looked between the peacock, owl, and dove. As he paused at each bird, an image formed above the creature. A massive stretch of land hovered by the peacock; a well-decorated soldier floated so close to the owl it almost touched the creature's vibrant white head; the face of a woman so beautiful it was hard to focus on her hung above the dove. Paris studied each image for a long time, then he placed the apple in front of the dove.

The vision had ended then, and Cassandra had returned to reality--sweat-covered and filled with anxiety. The event she'd seen hadn't happened yet, but it soon would. And the decision Paris would make would result in destruction.

Cassandra had spent most of her remaining time before the party trying to add color to her cheeks and attempting to force the startled, disturbed glint from her eyes. She'd thought she'd done a good job until she'd spotted Aesacus gazing at her with a knowing expression. Since then Cassandra had avoided the seer while keeping watch on Paris. She didn't think her prophecy would come true tonight, but she couldn't be sure.

So far Paris had done nothing suspicious. For the first part of the celebration, Hecuba had led her long-lost son around the large hall and told all who would listen how wonderful she thought him. Then Helenus and Polites had rescued Paris from their mother, and since then they'd spent their time dancing with many of the young women in attendance and speaking with men their age.

Once Hector had found Cassandra as she leaned against a column. He'd brought her a plate of food and a goblet of wine. He'd watched her consume everything before he'd tried to convince her to dance. Cassandra had turned him down, claimed she'd yet to fully recover from the illness she'd had a few weeks ago. Hector hadn't believed her, but he'd left her alone.

She wished she could shake the awful feeling and partake in fun. Instead of moping about, Cassandra should be stuffing herself and dancing until her sore feet couldn't hold her upright. Yet she kept replaying the prophecy, tried to decipher what it meant. As no substantial conclusion came, she grew more and more depressed.

Though what did it matter? Hadn't she decided yesterday that, because Aesacus hadn't had a negative prophecy about Paris since his birth, any visions she had of Paris couldn't be trusted? Why did she continue to dwell on an issue she had no reason to worry about?

"Cassandra!" Polyxena's voice cried over the group of men nearby who debated politics. The men ceased talking and watched the young princess as she approached Cassandra at a run; her nursemaid Agatha--a wizened woman with lively brown eyes and hair as gray as storm clouds, who'd been the nursemaid to every one of Hecuba's children--trailed as fast as she could after the child.

Cassandra stopped her sister before Polyxena could knock her flat. "What?"

Polyxena jutted out her bottom lip. "I'm not tired."

"It's time for sleep," Agatha said as she stepped behind the child, her rich growl of a voice labored. She pressed a hand to her chest as she struggled for breath.

"No," Polyxena retorted. She turned her large eyes on Cassandra. "The rest of you get to stay up. Why can't I?"

Agatha opened her mouth to respond, but Cassandra shook her head. "I'll handle this."

Agatha nodded.

"Now, Polyxena," Cassandra said, and crouched to a height more equal to her sister, "you must know you're not being punished. I and our brothers and sisters couldn't stay all night at parties when we were your age, either. It wasn't that we weren't wanted, but everyone knew we wouldn't couldn't stay awake; that we'd curl up in a corner and pass out long before the celebration came to an end."

"I swear I won't!"

"You may believe so, but you will," Cassandra said. Polyxena sucked in a breath; her expression promised a monstrous argument to come. Cassandra placed a finger to her sister's lips. "If you listen to Agatha and go to sleep, we'll go into Troy tomorrow, to the market," she promised before her sister could disturb any more guests in the surrounding area with a fit she was too old to throw.

Polyxena's eyes widened, and her face lost its scrunched, sour look. Her lips broke into a bright smile. "Really?"

Cassandra straightened her form and smoothed the wrinkles in her peplos. "Only if you obey Agatha."

"Of course, I will." Polyxena skipped to the nursemaid and grasped Agatha's gnarled hand. "I love you." She beamed the sweetest expression at Agatha.

Agatha patted the young princess's cheek. "I love you, too." She grinned at Cassandra, then charged toward the room's exit. "Thank you," she called over her shoulder.

"You're welcome. Goodnight," Cassandra cried after them; her heart light for the first time since her vision.

"Is she always a handful?" a familiar voice asked her.

Cassandra whirled around and met the shocking sight of Apollo. The god had toned down his otherworldliness--appeared no different than any other mortal attending the party. Well, mostly. His beauty outshined all the other men and stole the breath from Cassandra's lungs. She averted her gaze and pretended interest in the celebration.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, proud her voice betrayed none of her embarrassed surprise.

Apollo shrugged. "I thought I'd pay one of my biggest admirers a visit on her special day." He smirked, and Cassandra knew she hadn't fooled him. "Granted, I'm not going to let your mother know I'm here. She'd never cease talking about it. It'd be the one memory she'd cling to in the afterlife, and she'd drive my uncle insane."

A laugh tore out of Cassandra, and some of her awkwardness melted away. She met his eyes without fear of her cheeks reddening. The god's smirk softened into a gentle smile, which drew a smile from Cassandra.

"I'm glad you're finally happy." Apollo reached for her but drew his hand away before he touched her. "What's upset you so tonight?"

"Oh, just a vision from earlier." Though she knew Apollo could set her worries straight, she found she didn't want to tell him how disturbing her prophecies were. Part of her didn't want him to feel sorry for giving her a gift that often terrified her, and another part of her didn't want to ruin their time discussing upsetting topics.

Besides, the vision hadn't meant anything serious. Cassandra knew that. She only couldn't accept it because the prophecy had scared her so. Once she ceased having such harsh effects from Apollo's gift, she'd find the real meaning behind them, and they'd no longer frighten her.

"Do you want to discuss--"

Cassandra extended her hand. "Take a walk with me in the gardens?"

Apollo's lips pursed. His analytical stare penetrated her for many heartbeats. Finally, he sighed. "I'd love to."

Before he could change his mind, Cassandra laced her fingers between the god's and tugged him in the direction of the only window near them obscured by a column. Apollo followed without comment. Once at the window, Cassandra ensured no one crucial paid her and her male companion any attention. Confident they could escape unnoticed, she opened the window.

"This is the best way?"

Cassandra released his hand. "The most convenient," Cassandra corrected before she crawled out the window. She dropped to the ground.

Apollo copied her, and a moment later he stood beside her. He took her hand. "Which way?"

Cassandra pointed to her left. "There."

"Lead the way."

The fragrant flowers perfumed the warm night. On most nights, the stars and moon were the brightest objects for miles around. But not tonight. The palace glowed with an almost unforgiving light; it lit the grounds surrounding it and stopped short of the horse stables. No one in Troy could miss the giant building on the hill.

They reached the garden, and Apollo prompted Cassandra to tell her favorite childhood memories. He listened with a half-smile as they traveled from one part of the garden to the other. Cassandra shared her many experiences, a significant amount of which had happened in the very garden they appreciated.

"How do you and your siblings coexist so...easily?" Apollo wondered after Cassandra had told of yet another event that had involved her and her sisters and brothers. He guided her to a stone bench, sat down, and gestured to the spot beside him.

Cassandra claimed the offered seat. "It isn't easy. We bicker and are petty to one another just like all brothers and sisters are from time to time."

"You obviously love each other." Apollo's voice held a twinge of sadness. "I clearly saw that with your younger sister."

"I know gods aren't expected to be like mortals, but you're all still a family. Doesn't that hold weight with any of you?" Cassandra hoped she didn't sound too critical.

"It did for a short time, but as soon as the Olympians defeated the Titans all sense of family evaporated. Of course, some of us still care, like I do for Artemis, but it's rare. Many find it more amusing to wound one another. Because of it I...don't like being home. Though I haven't thought of Mount Olympus as home in too many years to count."

Cassandra couldn't imagine living an eternity without a place to go where she felt she belonged. "I'm sorry." She squeezed his hand.

His responding sad smile needled her heart. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Since meeting you, I've discovered I don't need a home as much as I need someone who makes me feel home."

The god's sincerity and soft gaze crashed into Cassandra, weakened her knees. On impulse, she leaned her head against his shoulder. With his free hand, Apollo ran his fingers through her hair. He ruined the elaborate hairstyle a handmaiden had given Cassandra, but she didn't care. His touch felt incredible; sent tingles from her scalp to her toes. A moan escaped her, much to her horror.

"We've been gone longer than I anticipated," Cassandra squeaked, and Apollo stilled his caressing.

"I'm sure no one's noticed, and even if they have, they're so drunk they won't remember in the morning."

"I'd hate to give my father another reason to keep me from our excursions in the forest."

The sun god sighed. "No, you're right. I should get back to Olympus, too, before my absence is discovered...again."

Curiosity blocked Cassandra's urge to flee from her previous embarrassment. "You make it sound as if you're breaking the rules by being here."

"I am."

"But...gods can come to earth. Don't they all the time?"

Apollo frowned. "Most can, but not Zeus' children."

"Why?"

"Hera's forbidden my father's trysts with mortals, and, in turn, he's decided to punish my siblings and me. He hopes our restless fury will convince Hera to revoke her sentence." Apollo laughed, a dark sound void. "By now Zeus should know his wife."

"Are you the only one who sneaks away?"

"No, though I'm the one who's left the most."

"Have you been caught?"

Apollo nodded. "The times we've been together, and it's thundered, or the sky has darkened, that's my father realizing where I've gone."

"Has he--What happens when you're caught?"

A grim look flashed across the god's face.

Guilt churned Cassandra's already turbulent stomach. "Why--Don't do it anymore. Don't risk your safety."

Apollo grinned, his teeth so radiant they almost blinded Cassandra. "Time spent with you is worth my father's wrath." He brought her hand to his mouth, turned it to expose her palm, and kissed the flesh underneath her thumb.

Cassandra loved the sensation of his lips on her skin, but she didn't let it distract her. "But I'm not--"

The god stood, bent, and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight."

He disappeared.

Bewildered, Cassandra traced the warm impression Apollo's lips had left on her forehead.

Chapter Fourteen

The furious grey clouds overhead promised the worst storm in months. The wind was non-existent. The humid air clung to Cassandra as she wove her way through the trees to Dimus' farm. Her hair and peplos had grown damp shortly into her journey; she almost regretted coming outside on a day hinting at nothing but trouble. Once she'd even tried to turn around and head back to the palace, to listen to common sense, but her craving to see Dimus had overridden the logical decision.

It'd been three days since she'd last visited the shepherd and, though foolish, a burning ache had grown in his absence. The lost sensation she felt frightened her. Every waking moment, she thought of Dimus. And many of her dreams were of him, dreams that reddened her face when they came to mind.

Why? What about the shepherd addicted her so? How could simple thoughts of him so easily take control of her brain and transform her into a mindless mess?

How Cassandra felt about Dimus was so different than her growing emotions for Apollo. When with Apollo, she felt self-conscious, and the god's every touch excited her, but she never had the overwhelming urge to be in Apollo's presence if she hadn't spent time with him in a while. And she didn't contemplate him as often as she breathed, though the first instants around the god filled Cassandra with a honied warmth she'd never experienced with Dimus.

When had she gotten herself into this confusion? Cassandra had always thought she would treat romance more rationally. Sure, she enjoyed fantasizing in her mother's fashion, but her older sister Creusa was the one who lived in romantic notions, just like the Queen. Creusa should be the one with a torn heart. Cassandra had once believed if, given the luxury of falling in love with the man she'd marry, she would only be able to feel so strongly for one man. The idea of craving two men--well, one god and one man--at the same time had never crossed her mind.

And the worst part of it all? Neither suited her. Apollo belonged with another immortal. Dimus was a commoner and forbidden to love royalty. If it weren't her, she'd find it funny falling for the wrong people.

Sooner than ready, Cassandra stepped into Dimus' field. No cows grazed; she could hear their muffled cries from the barn. Her gaze found the window in Dimus' hut illuminated by a single candle, and, like a poor insect to a flame, she approached it.

She reached the hut and knocked on the door. She didn't wait long before Dimus answered. Like always, from the first day they'd met, the shepherd's exotic good looks captivated Cassandra. She couldn't look away, not that she wanted to.

Dimus smiled, and her heart jumped. He reached for her hand and brought her close; over the threshold and into his hut--a place she'd never been before. Every time she'd visited, they'd been in the field. Sometimes they sat in the grass and looked at the sky to find shapes in the clouds as they spoke. Other times, they walked over his property, never beyond the border to the woods. Cassandra had tried to convince Dimes to venture into the forest (she wanted to show him why she loved it so much), but the shepherd always declined, more than adamant to avoid the woods. It puzzled Cassandra, but she didn't push the issue.

The shepherd's hut was bigger than it appeared on the outside, yet tiny in comparison to her bedchamber. Not much decorated the single room. A clear place had been made where Dimus cooked his food and then ate it, complete with a table under the window; a leather purse sat on top of it near the lit candle. A bed stood in the far corner, and a staff, with a design Cassandra couldn't quite make out, leaned against it.

Cassandra couldn't call the home horrible, but it held no cheer. If Cassandra didn't know better, she'd have sworn no one lived here, that it existed more for show than anything else. No wonder Dimus never appeared to mind Cassandra bothering him so much. He didn't have much to keep him entertained outside of tending to his herd.

Dimus pressed her knuckles to his lips. "What brings you here on a day like today?"

Cassandra fought a frustrating urge to giggle before she answered, "I...uh, thought that--It's been a few days. I wanted to check up on you." How mindless she sounded mortified her. All he'd done is--barely--kiss her knuckles.

"Thank you." Dimus smiled again. He scrutinized Cassandra's face and frowned. He pressed his free hand to her forehead. "You're way too warm."

"No, no, I'm fine." For the most part, Cassandra told the truth; she hadn't thought about her earlier discomfort in many heartbeats. Now with Dimus, she couldn't focus on anything other than him.

"You need to cool down." She protested, but he put a finger to her lips. "We're going swimming."

"Swimming?"

The shepherd nodded and nudged her out of his home. Cassandra offered no fight as he led her past the hut and barn, to the part of Dimus' property the pair had yet to explore. Not too far from the buildings stood a quaint pond surrounded by knee-high grass, except for the large section where three large, smooth boulders surrounded an impressive tree. Dimus took her to the tree.

Cassandra pointed at the sky. "Isn't it a bad idea to swim when the weather is like this?"

Dimus put his hand over his heart. "I swear that at the barest whisper of thunder we'll head inside."

"I..."

The impending storm didn't make Cassandra hesitate. The idea of swimming with him had sweat pouring down her back. How did he intend for them to do it? With their clothes on? Naked?

What would she do? It'd be senseless to swim fully clothed, but she couldn't strip down in front of him. And what about Dimus? Yes, she'd dreamt of him stark naked, but those were only imaginings. She couldn't deal with the reality of it.

With a swift, graceful movement, Dimus jumped into the pond; splashed water everywhere. He broke the rippling surface, shook his sopping wet curls, and then gazed at Cassandra. He held his attention on her for a moment before he flashed a knowing grin.

"Do whatever is comfortable."

"Uh..."

Dimus swam to the center of the pound and waved at her. "Get into the water. Have some fun!"

Cassandra took the best course of action and sat on one of the boulders. She slipped off her sandals, hiked up her peplos, and set her feet in the pond. A sigh escaped her. The water was cold, a perfect balm to the muggy heat of the day. She closed her eyes and leaned back on her palms.

Everything turned peaceful and perfect. Cassandra listened to the sounds of Dimus appreciating the water in his own way. No breeze existing no longer bothered her, and neither did the lack of nature going about its usual business. The one detail that could have improved it all was the sun's brilliance warming her skin, but Cassandra didn't miss it much.

In an instant, her body went rigid. A chill crawled down her spine. Her chest tightened, felt as if two giant hands had wrapped themselves around her and squeezed.

It took all of Cassandra's willpower to not overreact to the vision. She knew how to handle what would happen; she needn't be afraid. She had to breathe and let it pass without struggle...

Paris stood in front of the three birds again. Somehow, though impossible, the dove wore a smile as the prince set the apple in front of it. The peacock and the owl cried in outrage, and both took flight. Paris gazed, wide-eyed, at the dove.

"When shall I have her?" he asked.

The dove tucked the apple under one of its wings before it replied, "Soon, dear Paris. Very soon."

Its voice was intoxicating--as rich as olives and as smooth as wine. It had the most feminine tone to ever exist. Mortals and the divine alike could only dream of sounding so alluring. The dove's voice boiled the blood and twisted around the soul.

It enthralled Paris. He leaned forward as if he basked before a roaring hearth. His eyes took on a dazed glimmer.

"In due time, you'll know when to make your move," the dove continued in its enchanting tenor. It laughed, and Paris moaned. "Until then, be patient, dear one."

The vision ended, and Cassandra focused on returning to herself. She sat on a comfortable rock, and her feet wiggled from side-to-side in the refreshing water. Though it no longer troubled her, perspiration beaded on her exposed, scorching skin. The musky scent of the grass around her filled her nose, and she smiled. She heard the splashing noises Dimus made as he swam.

Dimus! She'd forgotten all about him. Had he noticed her episode?

Cassandra's eyelids snapped open as she prayed to the gods Dimus had been too fixated on his fun to pay her any mind. One look killed her prayer. The shepherd watched her, his eyebrows raised. Horror gripped her stomach, and she wanted to vomit.

Dimus waded toward her. "Is everything all right?"

"Y-yes, I'm...I'm fine." Cassandra couldn't meet Dimus' concerned stare. "I was just--The water's nice."

"Uh huh." Dimus neared her right calf, and he studied her. "It can be even better. Want to find out?"

"Wha--"

Before Cassandra could finish her question, Dimus took hold of her thighs and pulled. A cry flew from her lips as she fell into the pond. The shock of the water enveloping her entire body made Cassandra want to yell again, but she couldn't. Her head went under water, and she didn't want to swallow water. Cassandra forced herself above the surface. Once there, she sputtered and pushed the hair out of her face.

The shepherd laughed and reached for her. "I'd say you're cooled now." His fingertips grazed her bare arms and caused small bumps to form.

Cassandra wanted to be mad, but she couldn't muster the energy. She'd grown accustomed to the water's temperature. Truthfully, Dimus' action gladdened her, though she was painfully aware her soaked peplos hugged her body like a second skin and left nothing to the imagination.

"Yes. Yes, I am."

Dimus' embraced Cassandra, and his hands drifted down her back to rest on her rear. Cassandra gasped, and her heart flew into her throat. Her mind spun as her cheeks flared as hot as a forge. How had they gotten here? Where would they go?

She gazed at his chest, afraid to raise her head. Dimus couldn't see how he affected her. Her heart would burst, and she'd die on the spot if he found out.

"Cassandra," Dimus said over and over until she tilted her head back to look at him. The smoldering desire brightening his eyes stole her breath. She couldn't believe it. He wanted her as much as she longed for him; one of her dreams come true. For a fleeting moment, Cassandra wondered if she'd fallen asleep on the bank or had blacked out after her vision.

Dimus bent his head forward and pressed his lips to hers, and Cassandra didn't care one way or another if what happened was truth or fantasy. The demanding kiss intoxicated. Dimus' mouth worked with obvious skill, and Cassandra's knees became as unstable as hot wax. Her stomach shook as if a thousand moths had taken flight. Her brain had turned to the mush of decaying fruit.

While he devoured her mouth, Dimus' hands slid up her back to her shoulders. He caressed her there, then played with the pin over her left breast. With one hand, he unhooked the pin and tossed it onto the bank. Unstable, the top of her peplos tumbled down and exposed her breasts. If not for the belt around her waist, the entire garment would have fallen off her. Surprised anticipation hardened her nipples, and Cassandra shuddered.

Dimus released her lips, and Cassandra swallowed much-needed air. The shepherd chuckled and cupped her breasts. Cassandra's eyes widened as her mind filled with thoughts of Apollo. Guilt and shame brought the urge to cry, and before she knew it, she stepped away from Dimus while shaking her head. She covered her breasts.

The shepherd frowned. "What's wrong? Did I do something to upset you?"

"N-no." Cassandra threw a quick glance at the sky. "I heard--I thought I heard thunder."

"I didn't hear anything."

"Well, I should b-be going. It's late."

Dimus' hand stretched toward her. "Is that what you really want to do?"

"Yes, it is."

She raced as fast as she could to the bank. She crawled out of the pond and wrung as much water as she could out of her peplos. Then she retrieved her pin and secured the top of her fabric to its rightful place.

The entire time Dimus watched her, motionless. Cassandra managed to muster enough courage to steal a glance at him. She wished she hadn't. He scowled, all traces of his previous affection gone. She wanted to go back, to make him forget his anger, but her feet wouldn't move like she wanted them to.

Cassandra waved instead. "I'll come again on a better day."

The shepherd nodded once and turned away from her.

Cassandra sobbed as she wove her way across the field and into the forest. Once within the comforting shade of the woods, her tears fell. She couldn't have held them at bay any longer if she'd wanted to.

Caring for two people was destroying her. A part of her hated that she'd fled from Dimus, and screamed at her to return, while an equal part applauded her for not betraying Apollo and encouraged movement forward. The ongoing battle pounded in her head, and she teetered on psychosis.

She paid no mind to her trek through the forest. All her thoughts focused on the problem she'd gotten herself into. Cassandra didn't feel the rain that started shortly after she'd entered the woods, she didn't notice the multiple times she just avoided tripping over roots and fallen branches, and she would have missed Paris if the prince hadn't darted in front of her, as loud as a stampeding horse.

Cassandra snapped out of her misery and fell behind Paris; prepared to hurl herself behind a tree if he happened to look in her direction. He never did.

Her stomach churned as she followed him. Why had her brother been in the woods (he didn't have much interest in them, not like his siblings)? And why did he seem so eager to return to the palace?

She remembered her prophecy, and Cassandra was sure it'd come true, more confident about it than anything else in her life. Whatever horrible thing she'd seen for weeks had reached fruition. Troy had moved one step closer to annihilation.

But maybe her own emotional troubles clouded her judgment. Cassandra needed to see Aesacus. He'd know the truth. He would set her straight.

Chapter Fifteen

Besides the Queen, Aesacus had the best view the palace had to offer. His chambers were off the throne room and doubled as where he slept and where he performed many of his priest duties. Cassandra knocked on her brother's door but received no answer. She pressed her ear against the door and heard movement inside.

"Aesacus?"

The noises ceased.

"Aesacus, are you inside?"

A long silence. Then, "Go away."

"Please, I need to speak with you."

Aesacus sighed. "Fine. Come in."

Cassandra opened the door and stopped short of entering the room. Aesacus' bedchamber looked like a whirlwind had gone through it. Herbs, linens, ceremonial tools, and clothing littered the floor. Half-full packs sat on her brother's bed.

"What's going on?"

Aesacus shook his head. "Why are you here?"

"I...I need to speak to you about a vision I had."

The color drained from her brother's face. "About Paris and the great goddesses?"

"Great goddesses?"

"You saw three different birds, each a representation of an Olympian goddess."

Cassandra wanted to kick herself for her stupidity. How could she have missed the obvious? She felt like the densest mortal to ever walk the earth. How many times had Apollo told her to think of her visions' symbolisms?

"Why would they seek him out?"

"They choose him to make a decision."

"The apple..."

Aesacus nodded. "I'm not sure what the apple signifies, but I do know Paris' action has doomed us all." He rubbed his eyes. "If only the King had certified his death."

Anger blocked Cassandra's fear. "Paris is wonderful, and I'm glad he's alive."

Her brother smirked. "Yet, because he lives, you're now in danger."

"I--We could be wrong!"

Aesacus' smug expression evaporated. "I wish we were. I don't want--I love Troy, and I'd rather die than see it destroyed. But my sight hasn't led me astray."

Cassandra sagged against the door, close to crying again. She ran her fingers through her damp hair. "What do we do? How do we reverse what he's done?"

Aesacus sat on his bed and fingered a dagger with a bone-white handle covered with yellow gemstones that sat near one of the packs. His gaze never left the weapon as he said, "We could kill him."

Cassandra gasped. "You aren't serious?"

"I would be if I knew it'd solve the problem Paris has created, but I don't know what his death would do. And I don't want to risk a goddess' wrath."

"So, we do nothing?"

"No." Cassandra's hope spiked, then her brother continued. "I suggest you leave like I am."

"You're running away?"

Aesacus continued to caress the dagger; still wouldn't look at her. "If I stay, I will hurt Paris. And, you're right, he is a good person. Harming him will only end with the King taking my head. And if the King chose not to kill me, I'd take my own life. I couldn't live with the guilt."

"Instead of leaving, you should tell the King, or convince Paris to retract his verdict. Fleeing isn't the right thing."

Aesacus swallowed hard, then lifted his gaze. Since the start of their conversation, he looked as if he'd aged a decade. The sight of the fine lines around his eyes and mouth reminded Cassandra how many years separated her and her oldest brother, of how he could pass for her father.

Her brother stared at her. "I tried telling Father, but he wouldn't listen. Since Paris' return, I've lost his trust." Tears shimmered in his eyes. "I have no purpose now. Even if Paris hadn't sealed Troy's fate, I'd still leave."

"But...but we can talk sense into Paris." Cassandra lunged toward Aesacus, and, for the first time in her life, took her brother's hands. "Please, he'll ignore me if I approach him. No one knows of my gift, but you have noted experience. I can't fix this without you."

Aesacus pulled away from her. His attention returned to his dagger. "There is no fixing this."

"How can you act so cowardly?"

"I'm sorry."

Spite and bewilderment influenced Cassandra's next words. "May you never find happiness, and if you do, I pray the gods rip it away from you in the cruelest way possible." She spun on her heel and ran.

Cassandra didn't focus on her surroundings as she raced through the palace, her thoughts on her prophecy of Troy and how to stop it from coming true. Though Aesacus' fear left her on the edge of bleakness, Cassandra wouldn't give into it. A solution existed if she was only intelligent enough to discover it.

She rounded a corner and collided with a person. She tripped and would have fallen to the floor if not for the person grasping her elbow. Cassandra steadied herself. "Thank you. I wasn't--" Disbelief stole her words.

Paris grinned and pushed his wet hair from his face. He hadn't changed, and his clothing dripped water onto the floor. "It's fine. No harm was done."

"I-I'm glad."

His eyed her, then pointed at the pin on her left shoulder. "It isn't fully fastened."

Cassandra let loose a nervous giggle and adjusted the pin. "I...I had a mishap in the w--on my walk."

Paris grunted.

"And you...got caught in the storm?"

Her brother blanched. "I wanted to...practice my marksmanship and didn't pay attention to the weather." He picked at his chiton. "I want to be as good as Deiphobus, or, if the gods see fit to favor me, Hector. Last time I went hunting with them, I made a fool of myself."

"Oh...well, give it time. Your talent has the same potential."

Paris chuckled. "I hope so, but it doesn't look promising."

Cassandra smiled.

Paris patted Cassandra's arm. "We both should change before we get sick." He turned to walk away.

"Paris..."

He looked over his shoulder; apprehension etched in his features. "Yes?"

"Don't take this as an insult, for I'm sure you're already aware, but now that you're a prince of Troy...all you do will affect this nation. And our family."

The weary look fell from Paris' face. A soft grin graced his lips as he reached for Cassandra. She entered his embrace. "I know we haven't spent as much time together as either one of us would like, and you don't fully trust me."

"No, that's not--"

"I swear on my life, I'll never do anything to endanger our home or family. I love you and Troy too much to cause you pain." He squeezed her tight, then released her. Paris searched her face. "Feel better?"

She didn't, but she said, "Yes." Cassandra saw no point in furthering the discussion. She couldn't say much more without revealing her secret.

Paris grinned again. "Good." He eyed their clothing once more. "We really need to change."

Cassandra nodded, and her brother stepped away from her. On impulse, she called out, "Beware of gods' gifts. Often they're curses in disguise."

Her brother's footing faltered, but he didn't stop, nor comment. With a heavy heart, Cassandra watched him leave.

Chapter Sixteen

For days, Cassandra spent most of her time as Paris' shadow. No matter how hard he tried, Paris couldn't shake her. Every time he seemed on the verge of complaining or demanding she leave, Cassandra teared up and gushed about how much she liked his company. Without fail, her ruse worked. Paris would sigh, smile, then lead her to another activity.

She learned much about her older brother. None of the information could aid her endeavor to save Troy, but Cassandra enjoyed the facts nonetheless. She'd already known he was a caring, thoughtful young man, and the stories he told only inflated those truths. From what she learned, Paris had lived as a selfless and generous person; values engraved in him by his guardian.

That fact hurt Cassandra's heart the most. The one selfish act Paris had taken had damned all he loved. Not for the first time since gaining Apollo's gift, she loathed the gods' meddling with mortals.

During Cassandra's efforts to persuade her brother away from Aphrodite's offer, Apollo called for her twice. She ignored both summonses. Once, she'd thought of getting Apollo involved. Maybe he could talk to Aphrodite. And if he couldn't, perhaps he'd think of a solution to save Troy.

But Cassandra's visions had revealed no other gods beside the three great goddesses knew of Paris' decision. If she told Apollo and he confronted any other god, they'd punish him for breaking Zeus' rule. And what if Zeus hurt him beyond repair? What if Apollo got fed up with suffering because of her and lashed out, sought vengeance by harming her loved ones?

Though the task of derailing a prophecy seemed impossible, Cassandra knew it'd be better for her to proceed alone.

"How did the King and Queen meet?" Paris asked as a servant offered him a tray of olives. He selected two, bit into one, then sat back on his couch. Another servant resumed fanning him.

The servant with the olives approached Cassandra, but she waved the woman away. She smiled at her brother. "The Queen hasn't told you?"

Paris shook his head. "And I'm nervous to ask."

"That's wise of you. Always be wary of her stories."

Her brother frowned, and Cassandra laughed. She caught the smiles the servants attempted to hide and laughed harder. After a moment, Paris joined her. Their merry sounds echoed in the courtyard; startled a flock of birds from their perch on the palace roof.

When they'd quieted, Cassandra told the epic that was their parents' romance. She spoke with a feverish passion that rivaled the Queen's. Though she thought her mother had embellished most the details, she relished the thrilling story. Paris hung on her every word and smiled and chuckled on cue. He clapped when she finished.

"How lucky they are. Aphrodite herself crafted their love."

Cassandra nodded, though her stomach knotted at the goddess' name. She opened her mouth, ready to launch into another lecture about interfering with powerful forces, but a movement to her right caught her eye. She turned, and the sight of a slithering, gold-and-green snake as thick as her forearm greeted her.

Her eyes widened. Apollo had never been so bold in his invitation. She glanced at Paris and the servants. No one else had noticed the snake.

The knot in her stomach tightened. She wasn't ready to see the god yet. Cassandra had been so busy with Paris, she hadn't thought through her romance troubles. And she'd vowed she'd leave both Apollo and Dimus alone until she'd decided.

But she missed them both. She desired Apollo's refreshing humor and charm. Cassandra hadn't realized how much the comfortable afternoons with the god mattered to her until they'd stopped.

And Dimus...she craved his touch, his lips. Their bout of passion at his pond haunted her; woke her in the dead of night. The intensity in which she wanted the man terrified her. If she didn't have Paris and her visions to distract her, Cassandra would have gone mad.

What drew her to the shepherd? Why did she want him so badly, more than food or air? Was it love she experienced?

The snake wound itself around Cassandra's feet and hissed. She knew it wouldn't leave her alone until she complied. Might even bite her.

Cassandra pressed her hands to her face. "Oh..."

Paris sat up and leaned toward her. "What's wrong?"

"I'm feeling a little dizzy. I think I've been in the sun too long."

Her brother stood and extended his hand. "Let me escort you to your chamber."

"No. No, you stay out here. I can get there myself."

"But I don't--"

"See." Cassandra rose, as graceful as a swan taking flight. "I promise I'm well enough to reach my chamber."

"Not without one of the servants." Paris pointed to the woman with the olives. "Assist the Princess."

Despite Cassandra's protests, the servant nodded and handed off her tray. While Paris hadn't been a prince for long, his word outranked hers. And if Cassandra made more of a hassle, the servant would worry she'd suffer for following orders. Some of Cassandra's siblings might like messing with the servants and slaves, but Cassandra found no joy in the practice.

Cassandra smiled at the servant, then Paris. "Thank you for your concern."

Paris beamed back. "Of course. I hope you feel well."

"I'm sure I will. Good day, Paris."

"Good day."

Cassandra allowed the servant to guide her to the palace. The snake followed, nipped at her heels, then veered to the right. It circled back and repeated the process over and over. Cassandra's patience waned, yet she couldn't respond without looking insane. And she hadn't traveled far enough from Paris to avoid his intervention. She inhaled and exhaled slowly and drew the servant's attention.

"Are you feeling worse, my Lady? Do you need to rest?"

"No, I'm fine." Cassandra glanced around. She didn't spot her brother. Apprehension flooded her veins. Where had he gone? Did he seek Aphrodite?

The snake slid over her foot and pulled her from her thoughts. She sighed. Even if Paris planned to meet with the goddess, she couldn't do much about it now. She had her own god to deal with.

Cassandra paused and pulled the servant to a stop. "In fact, I've improved so much I've changed my mind about retiring to my chamber."

The servant frowned. "But Prince Paris--"

"I won't tell if you don't."

The woman bit her lip. "I don't know..."

Cassandra patted the servant's hand. "All will be well, I swear."

"If you say so..."

Cassandra beamed her brightest smile until the servant drifted into the palace. She waited a long moment, then dipped her head at the snake, which had circled her while she spoke with the servant. "All right. Take me to him."

The creature darted to the right again. It moved at a fast clip Cassandra followed with ease. The snake led her toward the servants' quarters--one of the few places the King had forbidden her from visiting. Like the forest, her father claimed it unfit for a princess of Troy. Cassandra's brothers on the other hand--More than once she'd heard the whispered tales of Deiphobus' and Polites' many exploits with the servant girls and of their gambling the servants and slaves were all too happy to indulge in.

But unlike with the forest, Cassandra feared the King's outrage if he caught her amongst the servants and slaves, though she thought more of their wellbeing than her own. The King wouldn't do much to punish her. Lock her in her bedchamber, send her away for some time, maybe marry her off to the next suitor, no matter what he offered. Her father wouldn't hesitate to kill any servant or slave he thought should have kept his daughter from the debauchery of the servants' quarters.

Cassandra's trepidation grew when the snake headed for the gate the servants used when they traveled between the palace and the city. It experienced near constant activity during the day, and the soldiers standing guard never relaxed like the ones on night duty. If they caught her, she couldn't bribe their silence. Priam's men were loyal to a fault.

The snake entered the shadow of a giant archway near the guardsmen's post. No matter how hard the men tried, they couldn't spot Cassandra if she remained in the archway's shadow. And if they managed to, they couldn't identify her.

A hand extended from the shade. Cassandra's heart raced, but she laced her fingers with the sun god's. Apollo pulled her into an embrace, and for the briefest instant she forgot everything and relished in the heady heat of him. In his arms, she felt her strongest yet as fragile as spider's silk. The contradictory ideas shouldn't have combined into anything resembling sense, and she shouldn't have liked them. But they did, and she did.

The next instant, memories of Dimus with his hands on her swamped her mind. Guilt soured the previous good she'd experienced. She wiggled out of Apollo's hold with a smile she hoped hid her discomfort.

"This is quite the meeting place." Cassandra gestured to the surroundings.

Apollo watched her for a heartbeat too long, and Cassandra's smile faltered. Then the god smirked. "Well, it seems you've grown tired of our previous rendezvous spot."

"I'm sorry. It's not that I haven't wanted to see you. Paris has kept me busy. He's...been on a bonding endeavor with all my siblings. The past few days have been my turn."

Apollo's earnest gaze drank in Cassandra. "Lucky for him he has siblings worthy of such effort."

Cassandra looked away. "Uh, did you want to hunt or...work on my visions...today?" She hoped he didn't. Not only did she have to find Paris again, but she also didn't want to endanger Apollo with what she might reveal through her visions.

Apollo sighed. "I don't have time today for much more than a quick conversation."

"Do you need to tell me something? Or, have you missed me?"

Thoughts of Dimus rebelled against her last question, but she silenced their protest. What harm could come from a friend telling her he'd missed her company? Yes, he may be a friend she wanted to kiss and stroke, but he was first and foremost one of her dearest companions.

The god took her hand once more, and, with his thumb, rubbed small circles on her palm. "Both." With his other hand, he brushed back the strands of hair that had fallen on her face. "Have you missed me?"

Her feelings for Dimus rose to choke back her next words, but Cassandra held them at bay as she said, "More than I ever have."

Apollo's eyes lit up; glowed with such happiness they shined in the shade. "You don't know how glad I am to hear that."

A part of Cassandra despised herself for encouraging the god. She wanted to believe he didn't have romantic intentions, that he wouldn't bother with a mortal when any goddess would gladly swoon before him, but she knew that wasn't true. For whatever reason, Apollo had chosen to woo her. And if not for Dimus, the sun god would have already won her heart. While all evidence proved Cassandra and Apollo couldn't have a long-lasting union, she wouldn't have cared.

But, though Apollo was everything she could ever want, her rational side didn't see the point in the inevitable heartbreak caring for a god would bring. Mortals weren't meant to love the divine. The Fates wouldn't allow it.

Yet, her loving Dimus had as little chance of success as a fruitful relationship with Apollo. Why had her heart chosen two unobtainable contenders? And why couldn't she turn off her emotions? They were hers, should she not have unwavering control of them?

Cassandra hated her sense of impending insanity over this situation.

Tears welled in Cassandra's eyes, and shame filled her. She couldn't cry until someone else solved her problems. She'd waited years for the maturity that came with age, and she needed to prove she was strong enough to use it.

Cassandra straightened her spine and forced back her tears. "What do you need to tell me?"

Apollo's joy extinguished. He sighed and dropped his hand from Cassandra's hair. He didn't release her fingers, though. "Have you been bothered by any other god?"

"No." Cassandra frowned. "Might I be?"

The god bit his lip. His gaze stared beyond Cassandra. "I may have roused curiosity in you, purely by accident. Once, when I didn't respond to Zeus' summons as quickly as he saw fit, he took his anger out on some of my siblings. When I returned, they cornered me, and I think I let slip a clue about you. Since then, I do my best to mask my trail, but...I don't know if that's been enough."

"Would they hurt me?"

"I don't know."

Fear prickled Cassandra. Many of Apollo's siblings weren't known for their fondness for mortals, especially ones that inconvenienced them in any way. "What are we going to do?"

Apollo's anxiety left him. He cupped her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. "I won't stop seeing you, but the risk to you is immense. From now on, if you leave the safety of the palace, take the arrows and bow I gave you. They won't bother you here. I don't know if you're aware of this, but Zeus favors your father."

"Better not let him ever discover that. His head would swell to dangerous proportions."

A brief grin crossed Apollo's lips, then somberness hardened his expression. "Do you promise to keep yourself safe?"

Cassandra nodded. "I'll do my best. But...are you sure you want to continue spending time with me? The price seems too perilous, to you and me."

"I've lived much of my existence doing what pleases my family or being bothered by their petty squabbles." Apollo shook his head. "I won't let them take you from me. You're the first good thing to come into my life in a very long time. However..."

His eyes pierced her, seemed to see into the very depths of her, and Cassandra swore he'd discover her feelings for Dimus. She dreaded dropping her gaze, though. To do so would reveal her current dilemma, and if Apollo found her heart may be owned by another, he'd abandon her. And she couldn't imagine a future without her friend. A part of Cassandra would shatter if she never spoke to him again.

"If you're afraid," he continued, his stare still on her, "I'll walk away. I don't want to cause you harm."

Here was her out, Cassandra's chance to avoid hurting him. But she didn't take it. If she chose to forgo a romance with the god, she'd find a way to turn him down without causing him too much heartache.

"I'll be all right."

Gladness replaced the god's searching look. Apollo pulled her closer, and Cassandra knew he intended to kiss her. While her feelings for Dimus screamed for her to stop, she ignored them. For weeks, she'd wanted Apollo to kiss her, and though thoughts of Dimus had diminished the craving, they'd never destroyed it. And maybe the god's kiss would settle her internal debate.

Moments before their lips touched, shouts from guardsmen to the servants caused both Cassandra and Apollo to jump. They broke apart, glanced at each other, and laughed. Once they'd finished, Apollo rubbed his face.

"I guess I should go."

Disappointment pulled at Cassandra's good mood, but she battled it away and smiled. "Sure."

"Will you answer my summons when it comes?"

"Paris should be through with me by then."

Apollo leaned forward and kissed her cheek, very close to her lips. A pleasurable sigh escaped Cassandra. The god beamed and repeated the gesture until Cassandra blushed so hard she swore he felt the heat.

He pulled away from her. "Goodbye, Cassandra."

"Goodbye."

Apollo disappeared into the shadows.

Cassandra leaned against the archway, her heart as confused and frustrated as ever. She sighed. How would she decide?

Chapter Seventeen

Cassandra trampled through the woods. Though she'd ignored her promise to Apollo and didn't carry her bow and arrows with her, she didn't care if the noise she made attracted every predator in the forest. Cassandra walked with a heavy heart and had already cried twice. A part of her hoped something stopped her before she arrived at her destination. Then Cassandra could avoid the terrible task before her.

The previous day she'd woken with an answer to her romantic problems. It had always hovered on the fringe of her thoughts, but Cassandra had refused to give it any focus. She'd led herself to believe she could find a different solution, though, deep down, she'd always known it would come to this conclusion.

She couldn't be with either Apollo or Dimus. Mostly, Cassandra had decided that because she knew she had no future with either of them. But, even if she ignored good sense and picked one of them, she'd never find true happiness with her choice. She'd always wonder about the other, always worry she'd chosen wrong, and would eventually cause more harm to the one she'd settled for.

So, Cassandra would have neither of them. The thought of turning Apollo down didn't hurt her nearly as much as doing it to Dimus did. The god could remain in Cassandra's life, even if she had to force him to swear on the River Styx he wouldn't pursue her further.

Rejecting Dimus meant Cassandra purged the shepherd from her life. Her feelings for him were too intense. She couldn't ignore the temptation he presented and just be his friend.

Tears poured from her eyes once more; blinded her, though Cassandra didn't need sight to reach Dimus' home. She'd visited it enough in reality and her dreams that the path would always be branded on her memory. Cassandra didn't wipe away her tears. She'd wanted to present a collected front to the shepherd, but she'd given up when she'd stepped into the forest. Cassandra didn't have the strength to keep her sadness at bay. If she tried, she'd grow too exhausted and would abandon her task. And she didn't know if she'd have the courage to try another day.

Too soon, she marched into the field surrounding Dimus' home. His cattle grazed, and Cassandra composed herself as best she could as she watched the creatures go about their business. A few looked her way and bleated a greeting. She cooed unintelligible words, and her heart tore a bit more. Cassandra had grown quite fond of them and the way they followed Dimus and sought out the pets he awarded. Occasionally, they'd even gone to Cassandra for affection.

Unable to handle their presence any longer without bawling again, Cassandra sprinted across the field to Dimus' hut. She didn't pause once she stood before the front door. Cassandra rapped her knuckles against the wood and prayed she wouldn't have to wait long for his response. Already, she had to suppress her urge to flee.

The gods answered Cassandra's prayer, and a moment later Dimus opened the door. He frowned. "You've been gone longer than I thought you'd be."

His disappoint pierced Cassandra's resolve. She'd hurt him, and she needed to fix her mistake. Dimus' unhappiness was worse than anything she'd experienced on her way over.

Then her rational side kicked in. She couldn't use Dimus being upset over her absence as an excuse to back out. What she had to tell him would make him feel much worse, and so what? He was an adult. He could handle rejection.

"Dimus, I--"

A wicked, sensual smile washed away Dimus' previous discontent. "But you're here now, and that's all that matters."

Before she could respond, the shepherd took her hand and spun her over the threshold and into his arms. Without missing a beat, Dimus crushed his lips to Cassandra's. She fought the absolute pleasure his kiss aroused. She couldn't give in to him.

Cassandra pushed on his chest until he stopped. He pulled back and once again frowned. "What?"

"We can't do this."

"Why not?" Dimus brushed a finger against her throat. "Doesn't this feel nice?" He cupped her breasts. "What about this?"

Despite her determination, Cassandra couldn't restrain her moan. A warning screamed in her mind, but she ignored it. She leaned into Dimus' touch and wished away the thin fabric of her peplos. With a soft laugh, Dimus traced circles around Cassandra's nipples until they grew stiff. A louder moan escaped her.

Dimus bent close to her ear and whispered, "Surrender to me, Princess."

Her mouth opened, yet she didn't know the reply that would follow. Her longing and levelheadedness battled a war unlike the cosmos had seen. Cassandra's indecisiveness twisted her stomach and brought tears to her eyes. She wanted to rip her hair out. The fleeting touch of Dimus' fingers shouldn't undo her like they did. How did a shepherd spiral her into chaos?

Dimus nibbled the bottom of her earlobe. "What say you?" He pinched her nipples, and Cassandra gasped.

He laughed harder and moved to remove the pin at her shoulder. With a mind of its own, Cassandra's left hand covered Dimus' hand. He paused, but Cassandra didn't knock away his fingers. Impatience dulled his alluring gaze. It lasted only a heartbeat, then vanished.

Unlike before when she'd annoyed him, Cassandra's first instinct wasn't to apologize. Instead, mild anger blossomed and caused some of her confusion to evaporate. If he cared about her like he led her to believe, wouldn't he understand her nervousness? Though he'd never asked, Dimus had to assume Cassandra had never done much with a man, if anything. Why did her hesitation bother him so? Did that mean his feelings weren't as pure as she'd thought? Could bedding a princess be his sole interest in befriending her?

"Dimus, we need to--"

A roar, so massive it shook the hut, resounded, and Cassandra and Dimus cried out. A shining figure stormed through the open door and rushed the pair. Neither princess nor shepherd had time to avoid the figure's assault. It knocked Cassandra aside and punched Dimus in the face.

Cassandra stumbled to the floor. As she fell, her eyes registered the figure. Bile filled her mouth.

Apollo had followed her. She didn't know if he'd tried to make his presence known to her while she traveled the woods. Cassandra hadn't thought to look for him. Only two days had passed since their talk near the servants' courters. From what he'd revealed, she'd thought he wouldn't bother with her for a decent amount of time, to let his siblings lose a bit of their interest in her and him.

A chilling thought occurred to her. What if Apollo had suspected her inner turmoil and had watched her and taken note of who she talked to? Would he put his own safety on the line to find out if he had a rival for her love?

Cassandra shook away the thought. It didn't matter one way or the other. She had to protect Dimus from the god's wrath. Without a doubt, she knew Apollo would kill the shepherd if she didn't intervene.

She yelled for both Apollo's and Dimus' attention as she lunged for the pair. Neither paid her any mind. The sun god continued to hit Dimus; most his blows landed on the shepherd's chest and face. Dimus blocked his fair share and even punched Apollo once in the jaw.

The sun god's head rocked with Dimus' hit, and Cassandra's eyes widened. How could a mortal's ability match a god's strength?

He'd never mentioned it, but the shepherd could be a demigod with similar powers to the famed Heracles. Maybe Dimus had pleased a god in the past and been awarded extraordinary strength, much like Apollo had gifted her. Or--

Her mind froze the dark idea before it could fully form. She couldn't conceive it, it was too absurd. Leftover fear from Cassandra's previous conversation with Apollo had combined with her current terror to give her wild thoughts.

Apollo wrapped his right hand around Dimus' throat and lifted the shepherd into the air. Dimus pulled at the god's fingers but couldn't loosen Apollo's hold. Apollo drove him into the nearest wall; the force caused the wood to groan and bulge. Dimus kicked at the god's chest and legs, but his attacks didn't give Apollo pause. He snapped his free fist forward, and it met Dimus' nose. The shepherd cursed as a gold substance gushed from his wound.

The room spun. Cassandra lost her footing and fell to her knees.

No.

No, she'd seen wrong. The dreadful thought she'd killed couldn't be the truth. Somehow, Dimus must have cut Apollo's hand, and the god's blood had gotten on the shepherd.

Yet, as hard as she tried, she couldn't deny that the ichor that covered the lower half of Dimus' face came from his nose. As much as she wanted to believe it, demigods and mortals gifted by the gods didn't bleed ichor.

Only gods did.

Chapter Eighteen

A sob tore from Cassandra. "Who are you?"

Her anguished cry finally broke through Apollo's murderous rage. He didn't release the other god, but he did turn to look her way. Though he had the chance to attempt freedom, the other god didn't take it. He wiped away the ichor from around his mouth and smiled.

"You're about one of the thickest mortals I've ever met."

Apollo shook the other god so hard his head bounced off the wall. "Insult her again, and I'll carve your heart from your chest."

The other god smirked. "Go ahead. Then have fun explaining to Father why my death transpired. I'm sure he'll take it well."

Cassandra's mind flipped through what she knew of Apollo's godly brothers. She vetoed many of the lesser gods. Only an Olympian could have withstood the sheer force of Apollo's attack. That left just four candidates: Ares, Dionysus, Hephaestus, and Hermes. Though gods could look however they chose, Cassandra nixed Hephaestus. The god before her looked nothing like Hephaestus was portrayed, and he didn't leave Olympus much, and she didn't believe he'd mess with Apollo. Cassandra didn't think Ares would waste his time with a mortal who'd never challenged his prowess.

Dionysus and Hermes would put a lot of effort into tricking someone like her, though. And for most the time she'd known the fake shepherd, she'd felt she teetered on the edge of sanity. Could the god be--

Suddenly, the image of the staff Cassandra had once seen in the fake hut came to mind. She focused on the design she'd been too distracted at the time to clearly understand. It was two intertwined snakes topped by a knob. Small wings protruded from the knob.

Then she recalled the cattle, and Cassandra realized the other god was right. She had to be one of the most foolish mortals to ever exist. He'd never hidden his identity, she'd merely lacked the intelligence to put the pieces together.

"Hermes," she croaked.

The other god laughed. "Nice to meet you, Princess."

"Why would you deceive me?"

Apollo turned toward her but didn't look at her as he said, "He intended to bed you. To hurt me." He tightened his hold on Hermes' neck. "And you got Aphrodite's bastard involved."

Hermes nodded, then frowned. "He used his most potent spell, but..." His gaze narrowed. "You've done something to her. I should have had her before now, yet she's bucked me at every turn. What did you do, Brother?"

Apollo didn't answer.

Hermes' suspicion melted away, and he shrugged. "No matter. It wasn't all for naught." He leered over Apollo's shoulder at Cassandra, and she cowered close to the table. "I got to see you mostly naked, and you have great tits, Princess."

Apollo growled and slammed his free fist into Hermes' chest. Instead of retaliating, Hermes burst into laughter. With every blow Apollo landed on his brother's body, Hermes laughed louder and harder. Pure delight radiated from the messenger god's battered face as he took the thrashing.

Why didn't he leave? Apollo couldn't catch him if he ran. Was the satisfaction of Apollo's fury worth the threat of getting beaten to death?

Cassandra wanted to go home, but her legs wouldn't obey her commands to move. She sat beside the table and bawled; her heart shattered. All Cassandra had felt for the fake shepherd had been a carefully constructed plan forced on to her by the roguish god of love, Eros. She'd been an unwilling pawn in a game to harm Apollo. For kicks, the gods had wasted weeks of her life.

The gods' wanton lack of care for her wellbeing shouldn't have surprised her, but it did. How could they toy with her like this? Why would they do to her what they'd despise someone else doing to them?

Through her tears, Cassandra watched as a white glow engulfed Hermes. He cackled worse than ever and raised his legs. Hermes kicked Apollo in the lower abdomen just as the glow reached an unbearable brilliance. The sun god cursed his brother as he stumbled back.

Hermes smiled at Cassandra. "Goodbye, Princess."

Apollo blocked Cassandra's view of Hermes, and the messenger god took true form without her bursting into ash. When the light from Hermes' transformation had faded, Apollo pulled away from Cassandra and eyed her. The blank expression he wore chilled Cassandra to the bone. He no longer seemed her beloved friend, but instead a god incapable of understanding emotion.

Terrified, but unable to consider the risks of her actions, Cassandra reached for Apollo's hand. "I'm sorry." Her voice sounded inhuman.

The sun god jerked his hand back. "You still want him, don't you?"

Apollo's question struck her harder than a physical blow ever could. She wanted to deny his accusation, but they both knew it'd be a lie. Their intensity had weakened a fraction, but none of her lustful inclinations towards Hermes had fled entirely. It'd be some time before Eros' spell faded--if it ever did. Cassandra had yet to fully consider she may always yearn for a god who sickened and infuriated her. That if Hermes ever appeared before her, she'd have to fight with herself to keep from throwing herself into his embrace.

Cassandra swallowed until her throat no longer felt full of pebbles. "That isn't fair. You know what's been done to me."

Apollo didn't appear to have heard her. His eyes looked through her. A muscle in his cheek twitched. "Did you like his touch?"

"Stop."

"How fast did your heart race for him?"

Cassandra's tears had lessened since Hermes' departure, though Apollo's cruel questions forced them to fall again. Her hands covered her face, and she screamed through her fingers, "Please, stop."

The next moment, Apollo had her in his arms. He wrenched her hands away. "What parts of your body did he claim?"

Before she made a sound anywhere near a response, Apollo's lips met hers. All her terror and heartache disappeared in the gentle rightness of Apollo's kiss. His mouth didn't devour hers like Hermes' had. He didn't seek to confuse her senses or weaken her resolve. The sun god's kiss filled her with bliss she'd never felt before, and now that she'd experienced it, she'd crave it all her life. But the craving didn't concern her. Without it, Cassandra wouldn't go mad. She'd only live partially alive.

Self-disgust crashed over Cassandra. How could she have allowed herself to be used by Hermes? Why had she run from Apollo? All this time she'd been a pathetic mess when she could have avoided it if she'd let herself fall entirely for Apollo.

Cassandra tangled her fingers in Apollo's ichor-covered chiton, desperate for more of him. The yearning she experienced for the sun god shadowed Eros' spell. The passion was as intense and demanding but offered a tenderness only real love could.

Apollo moaned and broke their kiss. He leaned back and regarded Cassandra. Tears had gathered in the corner of his eyes. Cassandra's self-loathing soared to new heights. She'd caused her greatest friend and first love to cry.

She brushed away his tears. "I'm so sorry."

The sun god let her complete her task. When Cassandra finished, she returned her hand to Apollo's chest. She waited, and her heart thundered. Cassandra hoped the longer he remained silent, the higher her chances he'd forgive her. From his staggered look, she knew he'd experienced what she had when they'd kiss. He loved Cassandra as much as she did him.

Then his surprise vanished, replaced by a sinister scowl. Cassandra's blood ran cold. Instinct drove her to struggle, but Cassandra couldn't break the sun god's hold. He laughed, the sound more insane than any noise Hermes had made.

Apollo bent close to her ear, much like Hermes had. "I don't believe you."

Cassandra's lips parted to correct the misconception, but Apollo moved as quick as a snake. He straightened his spine, and before she uttered a word, he spat into her mouth. Cassandra recoiled from the repulsive act. As she did, the sun god released her. For the second time that day, she tumbled to the ground, this time on her backside instead of her knees.

His spit had landed on her tongue, and it burned. The pain crawled down her throat; stopped the scream that had built up. She tried more than once to expel Apollo's spit, but she couldn't force her jaw to open. Horror squeezed her insides. What had he done to her?

Apollo towered over Cassandra as she writhed in anguish. He smirked. "For the rest of your days, no matter your sincerity, when it matters, no one will believe you."

He turned and walked out the door. Apollo spared her no last glance or parting words. Cassandra clawed at him. If only she could speak, she could convince him of her love. He ached for her to, she'd seen it in his eyes. He needed her to prove he wasn't right, that his jealous ideas weren't reality. Yet she couldn't find her voice.

Cassandra gave up. She couldn't break Apollo's spell. She'd lost him.

She curled into a ball and bawled.

Part Three

Chapter Nineteen

For seven days, Cassandra lied in her bed. She refused food or company. Cassandra wanted to forgo water, too, but her baser instincts wouldn't allow her to. Once a day, never at the same time, she would crawl out from underneath her blankets and go to her bedchamber door. Without fail, a fresh pitcher of water would be sitting just beyond it. She'd gulp down as much as she could, then leave the sometimes half-empty, sometimes empty pitcher where she'd found it and return to bed.

Though she didn't want to, Cassandra slept. Her dreams fared no better than her waking thoughts. Sometimes, she swore prophecies intertwined with her dreams, but she'd lost the ability to discern the two.

Each time she woke, Cassandra would convince herself all that had happened with Hermes and Apollo had been a nightmare. Once, she'd even gone as far as to tell herself she'd never met a shepherd in the woods. But her lies never held. Reality would crash through her weak imaginings, and she'd cry out and wrap her blankets tight around herself. She hoped they'd suffocate her, but her prayer went unheard.

Part of Cassandra knew she felt so terrible because of Eros' spell. By the fourth day, she wanted to fling herself out her window just to find relief. Death was better than her sickening desire for Hermes. How she'd managed to resist and not lose her wits in the past? She didn't know.

But by the end of the fifth day, she felt Eros' influence crack, then dissipate altogether. That night, she slept better than on the previous days.

Cassandra's relief at her freedom didn't last long. What did it matter if she felt better? She'd ruined everything with Apollo. How could she move forward without him?

Anger so hot it twisted her stomach replied to this question. Yes, she'd acted like a fool, but it hadn't been her fault. And the sun god knew that. Forces beyond her control had impacted her, and Apollo had cursed her for it.

If he refused to understand, did that mean he didn't love her? Had he only wanted her like Hermes had?

***

Early night of the seventh day, someone knocked on Cassandra's door. She'd been dozing off and jumped at the sound and sat up. She hadn't heard it in days (after day three, everyone had given up), and on impulse called out, "What?"

"Open the door, please," said Helenus.

Tears fell at the worry Cassandra heard in her twin's voice. She didn't want to hurt anyone else, especially not Helenus. But Cassandra couldn't face the world. She didn't want to accept her new cold, lonely reality.

"No."

Cassandra expected him to plead further, like in the past. He didn't, and she cried harder. Why had she sent him away? She needed his comfort, needed reminding of her family's love for her.

Suddenly, a loud boom echoed on her door. It came again, then the inside lock busted, and the door opened so fast it bounced off the wall. The next moment, Helenus entered her bedchamber.

"What do you think you're doing? You broke my lock."

Hecuba strode in behind her son. "Don't be upset with him. I asked him to do it."

Cassandra glared at her twin. "Did you have to be so willing?"

Helenus frowned. "I'm sorry, but we're all so concerned. Are you ill? What's wrong?"

The Queen patted Helenus' arm. "Let me speak with her."

"But--"

Hecuba shoved him toward the door. "You two can visit later."

Helenus' lips pursed, and his chest puffed out like Priam's when his demands weren't being met. Hecuba stared him down, unbowed. Her young son's ire couldn't match the decades she'd dealt with the King's indignation.

Their battle of wills ended when Helenus' shoulders slumped, and he averted his eyes. Hecuba smiled and kissed his cheek. "You're such a good boy, caring so for your sister."

Helenus took the Queen's hands. His attention flicked to Cassandra, then back to Hecuba. "Will she be all right?"

"Yes. Now go tell the cook to prepare her a light meal with plenty of liquid."

Helenus nodded, and he smiled at Cassandra. "Talk to you soon."

Cassandra didn't respond, and her twin exited her bedchamber with a frown. Once sure he'd gone, Hecuba shut the door. The Queen walked over to Cassandra's bed and sat close to her daughter. Her gaze regarded Cassandra, and she grasped her daughter's chin and tilted her head toward the weak light from the window.

"Well, you're not with child. Thank the gods for small mercies."

Cassandra pushed her mother away. "W-why would you say that?"

"My little honeycomb, I know what's kept you confined to this room."

The breath caught in Cassandra's throat. The Queen couldn't have guessed her dilemma. While Hecuba spun many tales about the gods and her interactions with them, Cassandra doubted her mother would believe her encounters with Apollo and Hermes.

"What is it you think has kept me in here?"

"Your heart has been broken."

Hecuba's observation skills never ceased to amaze Cassandra. The Queen didn't act stupid, but she scarcely displayed her true self. She did it so infrequently Cassandra often let herself buy into Hecuba's lie--most the palace did.

"I-I--You--"

The Queen rested a finger against Cassandra's lips and silenced her. "You have nothing to fear. Your secret is safe with me."

"Why?"

Hecuba chuckled. "The men that surround you don't need to be privy to all your life. Especially not the topic of forbidden lovers."

Her mother's words shocked her. "You've had a secret lover?"

Cassandra's mind drifted to the numerous handsome servants, slaves, guardsmen, and dozen others in the palace. None would deny the Queen if she pursued them. But it seemed so unlike her mother. Hecuba and Priam shared one heart. No one could claim otherwise.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face for her mother laughed harder and shook her head. "No, no. When I was young, around your age."

"Why have you never mentioned him before?"

Hecuba's good humor evaporated. "Like most first loves, it ended in tragedy." Her eyes glazed over. "Though many can't compare with mine."

"Mother, don't--"

The Queen tucked Cassandra's dirty curls behind her ears; her gaze still unfocused. "You know, you're much more like me than your father. In my early years, I often snuck off to places I shouldn't have." She frowned. "Unlike you, I did it to escape my father."

Cassandra winced. She never liked to hear about her grandfather. He'd been a horrid man who'd deserved his grisly end--trampled to death by the very horse he'd preferred to his daughter.

"It was because of my father," Hecuba continued, "that I met Raleus. After a nasty bout with my father's temper, I decided to run away. I had it in my mind I could sneak onto a ship, and the Fates would see me to someplace better." A soft smile tugged at the Queen's lips. "Raleus discovered me and laughed when I told him what I intended. Oh, he infuriated me, but he was the most good-looking man I'd ever seen. I didn't know it then, but I fell in love with him on the spot.

"He convinced me to return home. After that day, for weeks, I found every excuse to visit him. At first, he resisted my advances. He told me how it was against the law, that he was too old for me, that I'd regret my actions afterward. Nothing he said deterred me, and he caved.

"Our love, though short-lived, was the greatest Aphrodite had ever conjured. For a few moments, I'd found paradise. Before Raleus, I'd never known true happiness."

"What happened?"

Hecuba sighed. "My father grew suspicious and instructed a servant to shadow me. The servant reported I rendezvoused with Raleus, and my father had him bound and gagged and tossed into the sea. I prayed to Poseidon to spare him. I doubt he did, but...I like to imagine Raleus is living well on an uncharted island."

More tears stained Cassandra's cheeks. "How did you endure? This pain...I could die, it's so terrible." And her mother's situation had been so much worse than Cassandra's.

The Queen wrapped her arms around Cassandra and cradled her close. "Time will lessen it, I promise. Sooner than you believe, your heart will heal, and you'll move forward." She kissed Cassandra's forehead. "But you can't give up. Life is too wonderful to leave it so early."

"I don't know if I can."

Hecuba squeezed her daughter. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. As I said, you're much like me. After I grieved over my father's horrible deed, I picked up my shattered heart. I won't lie, it wasn't easy. I even swore I'd never love again, but then your father came along. I took another chance, and my fate turned out better than I could have ever hoped for. You'll be just as lucky."

Cassandra didn't believe her mother, not in her core, but she let the Queen's fantasy dull her pain nonetheless. Her mother was wrong about much, but not about Cassandra moving forward. While she knew she'd never risk love a second time, she couldn't let her sadness get the better of her. Cassandra had to thrive for Troy's survival.

Chapter Twenty

Despite her revelation during Hecuba's talk, Cassandra spent much of the next few days trying to contact Apollo. She refused to believe she'd lost him completely. They'd been great friends; he'd shared with her thoughts she was sure he'd never told anyone else, not even Artemis. He couldn't throw away what they'd had so quickly. If she found the right words or the right offering, he'd return to her.

For her prayers and contributions, Cassandra used the chamber Aesacus had conducted many of his works. Since his departure, no one had been inside the makeshift temple. The King had yet to replace his high priest, and Cassandra didn't think he would. Though he'd never reveal his feelings, she knew Aesacus' leaving had wounded Priam. Unlike many other kings, Priam had never caused any of his minor children to feel as if he didn't care for them. Each of his offspring, close to fifty, brought him joy in their own way. And he often said, if not for his children, he'd see no reason to exist.

A few servants and even Polites caught Cassandra entering or leaving Aesacus' empty chambers. They neither commented nor stopped her. One night after supper, Deiphobus congratulated her on finally finding a hobby worthy of her time.

None of her actions saw success, and Cassandra cried herself to sleep every night. But she woke each morning with new vigor. She wouldn't accept defeat.

Her motivations changed, though, when she heard of the King's upcoming voyage to Laconia to discuss trade. Paris begged to accompany Priam, and the thought overjoyed the King. The news brought to image the face Cassandra had seen hovered over Aphrodite in her visions, and Cassandra knew Paris intended to meet the woman on his trip.

She gave up trying to contact Apollo and focused her energy on convincing Paris to stay in Troy. Two days after her constant berating, Paris' presence grew scarce. Cassandra sought out the crooks and crannies of the palace, but, though her brother hadn't been in the palace for long, he'd found places to hide Cassandra couldn't being to imagine. For once, she prayed for a vision to aid her. Her wish went unheeded.

On the fourth day of her searching, while in the garden, Polyxena and Creusa approached her. They moved with caution, like many of her siblings had since Cassandra had abandoned her moping in bed. Only Hector and Helenus treated her the same as always, though they hadn't suggested partaking in the strenuous activities they'd all once done.

To relax her sisters, Cassandra plucked them each a flower. She handed them to her sisters with as bright a smile as she could manage. Creusa took hers with a sad smile that darkened her face, almost identical to Cassandra's but for a few minuscule differences in their mouths and noses. Cassandra averted her eyes.

Polyxena didn't notice her older sisters' exchange. She squealed and hugged Cassandra.

"What brings you to me?" Cassandra asked once Polyxena had loosened her hold.

"We're going to the city," Polyxena said.

Creusa tied her flower into her curls that mimicked Cassandra's, though shone a softer red. "We thought you'd like to join us."

Polyxena danced away from Cassandra and coaxed Creusa to do the same with her flower and her hair. "Will you?" she asked after Creusa had finished.

Creusa took Cassandra's hand. "Your being with us will make the day perfect."

Polyxena took her other hand. "Please, please, please."

Cassandra had had no luck in hunting down Paris. She didn't want to give up, but she couldn't find the point in continuing, either. And she'd missed spending time with her sisters.

She nodded. "Sure."

Polyxena shrieked again and raced for the palace. Cassandra and Creusa followed her at a much slower pace. They talked of nothing significant, and Cassandra relished in the gentle ease of her older sister's voice and mannerisms. For a moment, she allowed herself to think everything would work out--that's the sort of effect Creusa had. More than once, Priam had used her to calm an ambassador who'd grown irate over one of the King's proposals. Without fail, Creusa smoothed over the situation, and Priam got his way.

***

Toward early afternoon, the three sisters and their entourage headed for the city. Polyxena filled their journey with her quick chatter. On more than one occasion, Cassandra and Creusa caught the other's gaze, and they'd chuckle under their breath.

At the market, Polyxena was worse. She coupled her fast talking with her insistent need to touch everything. The child flitted from one vendor to the next, demanded a list of their wares, then ran away mid-sentence. Agatha waddled after her and shouted for order. Polyxena didn't listen. Cassandra and Creusa shook their heads, and both spoke of their pity for their old nursemaid. Only time would cool their sister's enthusiasm.

Cassandra and Creusa sought their own adventure; their attendants not too far from them. Unlike Polyxena, they listened to the vendors and treated each with the respect they deserved. They made many purchases, more than enough to rectify their sister's poor behavior.

While before a vendor who sold fabric from the far east, Cassandra's sight tunneled, and fear yanked on her heart. No, no, not now. Couldn't this wait for home? She didn't know how she'd--

The prophecy dragged her under.

Unlike in the past, Cassandra felt part of what she saw. She stood near the main gate of Troy. Men and women danced around a massive horse covered in eyes. She screamed at those nearest her, warned them of the sinister nature the horse emitted, but the people only stared at her and laughed. Cassandra reached for the nearest weapon--an ax--and ran at the horse. Someone grabbed her and flung her away. She stumbled, and the vision shifted.

Now Troy lay in shambles around her. The fire crept toward her. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Foreign soldiers chased, killed, and did much worse to Troy's citizens. She tried to look away, but she didn't control her body. Each atrocity took a piece of Cassandra's soul until she had nothing left. Halfway through, she lost the ability to cry or yell.

"My Lady!"

A light tapping on her cheek forced the vision to disappear. Her true surroundings came into focus, and Cassandra retched on the feet of the attendant who'd drawn her from her vision. Another attendant held her upright, and she slumped against the woman. Cassandra sobbed.

Agatha pushed aside the vomit-covered attendant. She gathered Cassandra into her frail embrace. "What's wrong, child?" She looked at Creusa. "What happened?"

"I don't know. Everything was fine, then she cried out and lost her footing."

The nursemaid returned her attention to Cassandra. "Are you okay? Tell your dear Agatha what's troubled you so."

"Troy," Cassandra croaked.

"What about Troy?"

"The horse with the eyes will destroy us all. Everything will burn!"

Agatha's arms tightened. "No, nothing will topple Troy. Certainly not a horse." She turned Cassandra away from the curious vendors. "Let's get you home. You need rest. You've had too much sun."

Cassandra struggled against the nursemaid's grasp. Though she knew she appeared crazy, she had to speak. Cassandra couldn't ignore her prophecy. "You have to listen," she yelled. "Troy is in danger." She met the gazes of the staring vendors. "You're all in danger."

"That's enough!" Frustration clipped Agatha's words. "You're much too old for this nonsense." She reached for Cassandra.

Cassandra slapped at Agatha's fingers and staggered back. Her sandal caught on a crack, and she fell. Pain exploded as her head bounced off the ground, and she blacked out.

Chapter Twenty-One

Cassandra's episode had been declared mild hysteria brought on by stress. After the third time correcting someone to no prevail, Cassandra gave up. Apollo had indeed cursed her. Even Helenus, the one who'd at least given her wild ideas consideration in the past, turned a deaf ear when she spoke of Troy's end. Never had Cassandra felt this alone.

But not defeated.

The doctor had declared Cassandra's head wound inconsequential and had ordered her to rest for two days. During daytime, she followed his instructions. At night, she traveled.

The first evening, after she knew Polyxena had been tucked into bed, Cassandra crept to Agatha's chamber. She apologized for her behavior at the market, and like the wonderful woman she was, Agatha forgave her with no fuss. Then the nursemaid kissed Cassandra's cheek and sent her old charge away. Afterward, Cassandra slept peacefully.

The second evening, well after the palace's activity had ceased, she went to Paris' chamber. Early the next day, he'd leave with the King. Cassandra had one last chance to change her brother's mind. While she traveled, she didn't let herself think of Apollo's curse. Cassandra would find a way around it. She had to.

Cassandra knocked on Paris' door. She heard shuffling, then, "Who's there?"

"Cassandra. I'd like to talk."

Paris sighed.

"Please. This will be the last time we do in a long time." For added measure, she said, "And I'll hate you if your ship sinks and you're lost at sea, and I never got to say goodbye."

The door opened. Before Cassandra Paris stood, still dressed for the day. A wild light burned in his eyes, and Cassandra knew he wouldn't sleep tonight, even if he wanted to.

Paris shook his head. "Must you be so dramatic?"

Cassandra smiled. "When it gets me results."

Paris eyed her for another moment, then he laughed. He moved aside to allow her into his chambers. "Are you feeling better?"

Cassandra stepped past him. "My head is still tender, but otherwise I'm fine."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Her brother shut the door and walked around Cassandra to one of the chairs near his roaring fireplace. Paris sat and offered her the second chair. Cassandra shook her head. Too much energy flowed in her limbs for her to remain still.

Paris sighed again. "What do you wish to talk about?"

"Why are you going along with Father?"

Paris' gaze turned to the flames. He swallowed. "It's a good...learning experience. I know I'm not the heir--I'm not Hector--but I need as much...exposure as I can get. I want to be an asset to Troy."

"But you can stay here and learn. I don't think traveling all the way to Laconia will offer you much."

"Father wouldn't agree with you."

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "The King doesn't know everything."

Her brother looked at her and smirked. "Oh, and you do?"

Paris' tone made Cassandra want to kick him, but she ignored her childish urge. Anger wouldn't aid her endeavor. For weeks, she'd been following and pestering him. She'd worn his patience thin.

But how could she get through to him? What words would override Apollo's curse and get through to her brother? Once, she'd been smart enough to outwit an Olympian god and live. She could find a solution to this problem and save her home.

Cassandra thought hard. A glimmer of an idea popped into mind. Apollo had cursed her because of her suspected lying. Since meeting the sun god, all Cassandra had done was lie to her family, to her friends, and to herself. Maybe to break the curse, she had to come clean about everything and damn the consequences.

She took three breaths and met her brother's exasperated gaze. "Of course, I don't know too much, but I'm more informed about what's going on than you could ever guess."

Paris leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. His body language screamed nonchalance, but his eyes revealed his true feelings. "Well, enlighten me."

Cassandra complied. She started from the beginning, from her attack of Apollo. She revealed all to him: the chimera, Apollo's gift, all her visions, Dimus, the day at the pond with the fake shepherd, how her romance dilemma had escalated to her hurting the god she'd loved. Cassandra left out no small detail.

At first, her voice cracked, and she stumbled over her words. As Cassandra continued, her voice grew in strength. The more she spoke, the higher her sense of relief. She hadn't realized how much concealing this information had weighed her down.

By the time she finished, the fire burned low. Out Paris' window, a pink hue could be seen in the early morning sky. Outside his door, Cassandra heard the servants' shuffling feet.

Throughout her tale, Paris hadn't moved. He'd merely watched her; his face as blank as the wall behind him. Not once had his gaze wavered from her. His stoic nature had bothered Cassandra, but she hadn't let that hinder her.

Now, Paris' attention left her and fell on the fireplace. He uncrossed his arms and rubbed both his arms and legs. A contented moan escaped him.

Cassandra took that as her cue to walk around the room to wake her own limbs. Being the King's and Queen's second son meant he had an impressive bedchamber. Unlike her other brothers' chambers, Paris' was sparsely decorated. He'd had much of the furniture removed shortly after he'd settled into his royal life.

The lack of adornment reminded Cassandra of Hermes' hut. Bitter disgust reared its ugly head, but it didn't overtake her. She wouldn't let anything about him ever control her again.

Once done, Paris turned toward her, and Cassandra ceased her pacing. "That's quite a story."

She nodded.

A smile played on her brother's lips. "It certainly outdoes all the stories Mother has told."

Knots formed in Cassandra's stomach. He wouldn't smile if he believed her. Had she been wrong? Would nothing lift the sun god's curse?

She had no answer, but Cassandra couldn't give up. "Yes, well, unlike her, I speak the truth."

The smile widened. "Come on!" He chuckled. "When did this tale come to you? After you hit your head? Or is this what you do in your garden, pretend? You do realize you're much too old for nonsense. I know Mother gets away with it, but you don't have the luxury of a Queen."

"But...if this is all make-believe, how would I know your real reason for leaving?"

Paris' face darkened. "I told you why I'm going."

"No, you want that woman Aphrodite promised you for choosing her. Paris, you can't have her. Your possession of her will mark Troy's end."

Paris snorted. "Because visions told you."

Cassandra wanted to rip out her hair. "If I were Aesacus, you'd listen to me."

"Aesacus didn't act like a fool."

With a mind of their own, Cassandra's feet carried her over to her brother. She stood before him. Her anger and hurt bubbled up, and she slapped Paris across the face. She went to do it again, but he caught her hand.

"Don't you dare put a hand on me again." Her brother's voice held a terrifying note that would have chilled Cassandra's blood if she weren't so furious.

"Don't insult me."

"If it bothers you so, don't make it so easy."

The hand Paris held twitched. In response, he squeezed until her fingers turned bright red. She didn't utter a cry, didn't drop her glare.

They remained like that so long morning burst into full bloom. Sunlight streaked the floor. Someone knocked on Paris' door. "My Lord, are you awake yet?"

"Yes," Paris called, "but leave me for now."

"The King wants you ready as soon as possible. He refuses to be--"

"I'm aware of the King's wishes. I don't need much time."

"...As you command."

Paris released Cassandra's hand, flung it at her so hard it bounced off her chest. "Go. I'm done with you."

"You're condemning Troy and your family to death. Is a pretty face worth that?"

"Enough."

Cassandra's anger disappeared. Her shoulders slumped, and tears dampened her cheeks. "I thought you'd never do anything to hurt what you care about."

Paris stood and placed his back to her. "If you don't go now, I'll have the guards escort you away."

Cassandra cried harder but did as ordered. Servants watched her pass with bewildered expressions, but none stopped her on her way to her bedchamber. Once there, she crawled into bed, wrapped the blankets around herself, and wept for Troy.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Not long after the King and Paris left for Laconia, autumn set in. The palace became a whirlwind of energy as the servants and slaves prepared the building for winter. Hecuba, bored without her king by her side, chased after her inferiors night and day. When she didn't nag her subjects, the Queen pestered Hector, who sat on the throne in the King's absence.

Since her time at the market, none of Cassandra's siblings bothered her like they once had. At first, their avoidance upset her, but in time she decided it was for the best. She had to stop Paris and figured if she could curry favor with the gods, they'd aid her.

Every day, Cassandra worshipped a series of gods. She started with the Olympians (minus Apollo and Hermes), then moved on to the lesser deities. She studied the scrolls Aesacus had left and discovered gods she'd never known existed and prayed and honored them.

When not in prayer, Cassandra spent her time in her garden. Many of her precious plants had died for the year without her appreciating their beauty. What remained, she tended to with a level of care she had never applied before. The flora flourished and brought Cassandra the only joy she allowed herself.

Three weeks into the King's voyage, Hecuba gathered all her available children into the throne room and announced another pregnancy due to end at spring's beginning. For the first time in days, Cassandra felt connected to the present as she eyed her mother with the same concern as her siblings. No woman her age should conceive and hope to have a healthy child, nor live through the ordeal. But the same had been thought when she'd carried Polyxena, and the Queen had had no trouble with labor, and Polyxena had been the fittest child Hecuba's midwife had ever seen.

At the responding silence, Hecuba broke down in tears. The Queen's misery shattered the bewildered spell her announcement had cast, and, as one, Cassandra and her siblings swarmed their mother. They hugged and kissed her until her crying ceased.

That night, Cassandra prayed to Eileithyia for hours and made a note to do so every night before bed until Hecuba had her newest child.

***

Another month passed, and news came of the King's travels. They'd reached Laconia safely, and events had progressed smoothly with King Menelaus thus far. Paris had taken to his duties as a prince of Troy well, and couldn't have pleased Priam more. No mention was made of a woman who'd caught the prince's eye, but a prophecy Cassandra had a day before the messenger arrived told her Paris had met the woman and had started his seduction of her.

Shortly after the messenger's news, Cassandra and Helenus turned seventeen. Despite the twins' protests, Hecuba planned a spectacular party almost as extravagant as her own. When they appealed to Hector, their eldest brother laughed and vowed to encourage their mother's overzealousness.

The day of the party, Cassandra forwent her religious duties and spent all her time in her bedchamber. She wanted to attend the party to please Hecuba but longed to avoid it. She couldn't stop thinking of the Queen's party earlier in the year and how Apollo had surprised her with his sincerity. Cassandra knew better but still couldn't kill the hope he'd show.

When the hour came, Cassandra swallowed her foolish thoughts and dressed in the outfit the Queen had chosen for her. She allowed a handmaiden to do her hair and makeup. Once finished, she joined Helenus outside the hall Hecuba's party had been thrown in. He threw her a soft smile, then intertwined his fingers with hers.

"Ready?"

Cassandra sighed. "No."

"We'll have fun, you'll see."

The twins entered the party.

As Cassandra knew would happen, the Queen paraded the birthday duo around the room. She gushed over them like any other proud mother, to the point Cassandra caught a few eye rolls once the Queen's back turned. Neither Cassandra nor Helenus spoke much--Hecuba left no opportunity.

Halfway through the night, Hector convinced the Queen to let the twins go and intermingle on their own. With a frown, their mother complied, and Cassandra and Helenus raced away as fast as they dared without hurting their mother's feelings. They sought food and sat some ways from the main action. They conversed about nothing remarkable, but Cassandra didn't mind. It was almost like nothing had happened to change their relationship. Their newfound closeness wouldn't last, she knew, yet she'd allow herself to believe so tonight.

At some point, a young man with the blackest hair and prettiest grass-green eyes Cassandra had ever seen on a man caught her attention. As soon as she focused on him, a quick vision struck her, but one unlike she'd experienced in a long time--a pleasant one. She saw the young man and Creusa kissing and playing with a child clearly theirs.

Once the vision passed, Cassandra excused herself from Helenus and approached the young man. She smiled at him. "Hello."

The young man bowed. "Happy Birthday, Princess."

"Thank you. Are you enjoying yourself?"

The young man nodded. "This is quite the party."

Cassandra chuckled. "The Queen really outdoes herself."

At that moment, Creusa appeared nearby. The young man's attention drifted to the older princess. His lips turned up into a grin Cassandra was sure he didn't notice. A feeling stronger than lust enflamed his eyes.

Cassandra stepped closer to the young man. "Would you like to meet her?"

He jumped. "Oh, I didn't--I don't know--I'm sorry, Princess."

"For what? Looking at my sister?"

"Well, it was rude of me to ignore you."

Cassandra shrugged. "No harm was done." She gestured to Creusa. "I swear she won't bite."

The young man gazed at Cassandra, then glanced at her sister. "Would you be so kind to introduce us?"

Cassandra smiled again. "It'd be my pleasure."

She took the young man's hand and led him through the crowd where Creusa talked with her favorite attendant. Creusa stopped mid-sentence when Cassandra and the young man stepped in front of her. She looked between the two.

"Why, hello."

The young man bowed. "Hello, Princess. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise, uh..."

The young man blushed. "Forgive me, Princess. My name is Aeneas. My father is your father's cousin."

"How is it you've never visited before?"

"I don't know." Aeneas' gaze drank in Creusa. "I regret every opportunity I've missed."

Creusa's cheeks flushed, and she looked at her sandals. Cassandra took that as her cue to leave. She wished them both well, but neither paid her any mind. Cassandra laughed as she walked away, and from then on managed to tolerate the rest of the party.

***

Instead of returning home, Aeneas remained at the palace. He claimed he liked to travel and adventure, and only stuck around for that reason, but no one believed him. Especially not when he and Creusa disappeared at the same time, all the time. Rumors flooded the palace, and, just like with Cassandra, Deiphobus butted his nose in. Unlike Cassandra, though, Creusa couldn't hide well, and Deiphobus caught her and Aeneas in a compromising position.

Deiphobus dragged his sister and her lover, both half clothed, to the throne room. He shamed them in front of Hector and demanded the worst possible punishment. Before Hector could respond, Aeneas declared his love for Creusa and asked to marry her. Hector approved, to the surprise of Deiphobus, and ordered the pair to behave until their wedding.

Hecuba wanted to put the wedding on hold until the King and Paris returned, but Creusa claimed she was too in love to wait. She threatened to elope if the Queen pushed the issue. Hecuba relented and set the wedding for two weeks after Deiphobus had discovered the young pair. Many guests who'd attended the twins' birthday party were invited to the wedding. Aeneas wanted his father there, but not only couldn't he have made it in the short time, but his lame foot kept him from traveling far. After Aeneas lamented his woes to Helenus, Cassandra's twin suggested, once married, Creusa and Aeneas visit Anchises.

For a hastily put together affair, the wedding went smoothly. It wasn't as lovely as Ilione's (Cassandra's oldest sister) had been, but Creusa looked pleased all the same. Hecuba cried all day but blamed it on her pregnancy. Cassandra allowed her thoughts to take on a lighter air, much like they'd been during the summer, though it was hard. More than once the idea of her and Apollo getting married broke through her shield of happiness. It never lasted long, its quick retreat made by the goblet after goblet of wine she drank. By the end of the event, Helenus had to carry Cassandra to her bedchamber.

Her sleep that night troubled her. At some point, a dream of her being buried by a pile of olives decorated with Deiphobus' face turned into a vision. The woman Aphrodite had promised Paris crawled into a massive bed fit for the king that occupied it. Cassandra knew the flat, bloated face of King Menelaus well (he'd traveled to Troy often over the years).

The woman wore too lovely of clothing to be a mere concubine. She kissed the King's cheek. He cupped her breasts, laughed, and pulled her against him.

The vision ended abruptly, and Cassandra woke, more terrified than before. She shook her head, unwilling to accept what she'd learned. Paris couldn't be that stupid, wouldn't want a woman of her status. He had to realize his goal would come with severe consequence.

But Cassandra knew he wouldn't care. He adored the ground the Queen of Sparta walked on, and, if Paris had her, the rest of the world could fade away. His love blinded him from seeing how disastrous his decision would be.

Instead of crying or bemoaning Troy's fate, Cassandra crawled out of bed, dressed, and went to Aesacus' prayer chamber. As she went about her rituals, Cassandra didn't believe she'd please the gods enough for them to listen to her, but she had to try. Cassandra feared for her wellbeing if she accepted fate and gave up.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The knocking turned to furious pounding; so hard it shook Cassandra's closed door. "My Lady, please let us in."

Cassandra rolled away from the door to stare at the opposite wall. "Go away."

"We can't. The Queen demands we tend to you."

On any other day, Cassandra would give in to the servants' pleas for fear of their punishment if they didn't complete her mother's orders, but today she wouldn't let their plight sway her. If they were beaten for her bad behavior, so be it. She refused to go through the mockery of accepting the former Queen of Sparta into their family.

The sounds of the servants disappeared, and Cassandra sighed. She'd wait some time, then sneak away to perform more prayers, just to soothe her agitated nerves. Clearly, no god cared about her situation or Troy's demise, or else they would have kept Sparta's queen in Sparta. She'd wasted months hidden away trying to please beings who'd turned their backs on her long ago. Secretly, Cassandra damned every god she'd worshiped. When Troy fell, she hoped they did, too.

Just then, Cassandra's bedchamber door swung open, and Cassandra sat up. Hecuba waddled in; her round, low-hanging stomach hindered the quick, angry walk she'd clearly intended. She rested her hands on her widened hips and glared at her daughter.

"Why don't you want to get ready? You can't go to the celebration as you are."

"I'm not going."

Blotchy, red patches broke out on the Queen's face. "And why not?"

Cassandra wanted to tell her mother about the surprise Priam had eluded to in his last message, but Apollo's curse would keep Hecuba from believing her. Instead, she pressed a hand to her forehead and lied through her teeth. "I'm not feeling well."

"Illness?"

"No..."

Hecuba shook her head. "Then get up."

"But I--"

"No, I've indulged your melancholy for far too long. Stop this. You will get up and join your family."

"No, I won't."

"I command you, not as your mother, but as your queen."

Her mother's sharp tone felt like a slap. Unwanted, tears gathered in Cassandra's eyes. Her mother had never spoken to her like that. Cassandra wanted to blame Hecuba's pregnancy but knew it had nothing to do with her mother's harshness. No, Cassandra had pushed the Queen to her breaking point, and she'd no longer deal with her daughter like her child, but more like a servant if she continued refusing.

Hecuba snapped her fingers. "What say you?"

Cassandra bowed her head. "I'll comply."

Without further comment, Hecuba exited the room, and the handmaidens filed in. They bathed and dressed her faster than Cassandra liked, but she didn't complain or struggle. She understood why they moved so quick. She'd wasted much of the morning and their time.

The servants had just finished her makeup when Deiphobus arrived to escort her to the main hall. He held her arm too tightly and listed several ways he'd punish her if she ran or ruined the celebration. Deiphobus assured her their mother had already approved his suggestions.

They entered the decorated hall, and Hecuba ushered Cassandra to her spot between Helenus and her younger brother Troilus. The Queen surveyed her extensive line of children (minus Creusa and Aeneas. They'd yet to return from visiting his father), nodded, then stood at the end, near Hector. She clapped her hands twice and calls from the servants echoed around the room and outside the palace. Music followed.

Cassandra gripped Helenus' hand, and her twin kissed her cheek; whispered how excited he was too. More tears threatened to fall, but she held them back. Cassandra wouldn't give any god watching the pleasure of seeing her crumble. She'd endure the future suffering and rise above it.

To the disapproval of his advisors, Priam raced into the room with the agility of a man four decades younger. He pulled Polyxena into his arms and kissed her face until she howled. He squeezed her tight, then placed her back on the ground, and moved on to his other children.

For both his sons and daughters, Priam had a tight hug and kind words. None of them denied his affection, not even Cassandra. Though she'd been occupied all autumn and winter with her own goals, she'd found time to mourn her father's absence. They didn't have much in common, nor talked often, yet his presence gave her stability she hadn't realized she loved until he'd gone.

The King finally reached his Queen, and both were in tears as they embraced. Their lips locked together with frightening hunger, and by the time they separated, both could hardly breathe. Priam ran his hands over Hecuba's swollen stomach and asked many questions about her health and the pregnancy. When the Queen had satisfied his curiosity, Priam smiled at his wife.

"Are you ready for the surprise, my love?"

Hecuba nodded, and the King ordered Paris to enter the hall. A gladdened cry escaped the Queen when her son stepped into the room, but her glee abruptly died when the woman tangled around Paris' arm came into view. Hecuba's breath caught in her throat, as did everyone's in the room.

The woman, the former Queen of Sparta and Troy's destroyer, was indeed the loveliest woman alive. Her loose golden locks fell past her bottom and caught every bit of light in the room. Her white skin held a rosy glow that brightened her already luminous blue eyes. Her perfectly balanced features looked sculpted by a god. She had a few years on Paris, yet she didn't appear much older than Cassandra.

In an instant, Cassandra's awe at the woman's beauty melted. Only hate remained and turned Helen into the most hideous creature on earth. Cassandra pressed her hand to her mouth to keep her outrage contained.

Hecuba shook her head and gazed at her husband. "Is that who I think it is?"

Before the King could answer, Paris intertwined his fingers with the woman's and ran with her to his parents. "This is Helen, Mother," he said as he stopped in front of the King and Queen. "She loves me and has run away to be with me."

Hecuba frowned. "But you're married to King Menelaus."

"He's not worthy of me," Helen said, her head raised.

Priam laughed. "Isn't that the truth."

"What does this mean for us?" Hecuba asked.

The King patted his wife's cheek. "Don't worry, my love. Helen has blessed us with her decision to live here."

The Queen didn't look pleased but didn't push the issue. She grinned at Helen and embraced the younger woman. "I'm glad to meet you."

Priam waved at Cassandra and her siblings. "Come, children, and welcome Helen into our family."

Cassandra's siblings surged forward, and all wore smiles of admiration. She watched as one after the other offered a kind word, kiss, or hug. Cassandra noticed her brothers leered at Helen when they thought no one looked, and each threw Paris a glare. Their open hostility shook Cassandra. One woman shouldn't have the ability to tear apart a family so quickly.

"Are you the shy one?" Helen called as she pointed at Cassandra. Her captivating tone held no malice, yet Cassandra's blood boiled as if the woman had insulted her.

"Not usually," Deiphobus said, and her family had a good chuckle at Cassandra's expense.

Hecuba gestured for Cassandra, her grin strained. "Don't be rude. Say hello."

With each painful step she took toward Helen, Cassandra's fury mounted. By the time she reached the vile woman, her nails had dug holes in her palms from how hard she'd clenched her fists. Helen opened her arms.

On impulse, Cassandra struck the woman in the face. Silence filled the room; not one person knew how to react. Delirious satisfaction pooled in Cassandra's stomach, and she hit Helen again; harder, with the intention to tear the woman to pieces.

All at once, Cassandra's family burst into activity. Her younger siblings cried out. Priam and Hecuba demanded her to stop. Hector and Deiphobus pulled on her arms, but nothing halted Cassandra's assault. She wrapped a fist in Helen's hair and continued to pummel the woman with blows. As she beat Helen, Cassandra screamed about how selfish and idiotic the former Queen of Sparta was and about her pure hatred for the ridiculous woman. Helen begged for mercy while, in vain, she tried to protect her face.

At last, Paris wrenched Cassandra away from Helen. He shoved her, and she fell to the ground. His intervention only angered her more, and Cassandra lunged for Helen again. She didn't get far. Helenus circled his arms around her and held her close to his chest. Cassandra struggled, but couldn't break free from her brother.

"Get her out of here!" Priam shouted.

"Her gentle face is a lie. She's a monster. She'll destroy us all," Cassandra cried. "Purge her from Troy!"

No one listened as Helenus pulled Cassandra from the room. All converged around Helen, who sobbed against Paris. Seeing her broken and bloodied brought a full-bodied laugh from Cassandra. Helenus shook his head but didn't comment as he took her to her personal quarters. He left her there with a disgusted look, yet Cassandra didn't care. Helen couldn't want to remain in Troy now. She'd run back to Sparta, and none of Cassandra's dire prophecies would come true.

Chapter Twenty-Four

For Cassandra's behavior, the King had her locked away in her chambers without food. Her confinement would end once his anger lessened, but Priam was well known to hold long grudges. No one could visit her, only a servant once a day to tend her most basic needs.

After the third day, Helenus and Hector snuck her food scraps from the kitchen. They chastised her actions but believed her ill. They didn't think confinement would do her well, yet they wouldn't dare air their misgivings to the King.

Cassandra let them think what they wanted, and barely talked with them when they visited. She only ate a little of what they brought. She didn't want to die, but she saw no point in living. Helen hadn't left and seemed more than determined to remain at Paris' side. Cassandra hadn't saved Troy--nothing she did would.

Proof of this came a week into Cassandra's sentence. King Menelaus sent a summons for his wife, or Troy would suffer. Priam laughed at Sparta's threat, though he had no idea the power King Menelaus could wield. A vision had revealed to Cassandra that all Helen's previous suitors had sworn to come to her aid if she ever got captured. Most of Greece would come against Troy, but, of course, King Menelaus didn't mention this, and so Helen remained in Troy. Shortly after, King Menelaus declared war.

The attitude toward Helen changed with her previous husband's announcement. Her beauty was still lusted after, but she ranked no higher than an ordinary whore in most people's thoughts. Only Priam, Paris, and Hector considered her better than a servant. From what Cassandra overheard, on more than one occasion Helen had stated she wanted to return to Sparta, that she couldn't understand why she'd fallen for a prince of Troy.

Part of Cassandra wanted to sympathize with the former queen. Helen had no doubt fallen prey to a similar spell that had been used on Cassandra. And unlike Cassandra, the former queen hadn't had another god's intervention to keep her from succumbing to the powerful magic. Helen was as much a victim of the gods as Cassandra.

Yet Cassandra couldn't muster the energy to overcome her anger at Helen. She knew her emotions were really aimed at the gods but expressing fury with them could do nothing but worsen her and her loved ones' lives. Despising Helen helped keep Cassandra from screaming obscenities at the sky.

***

Nearly two months after Helen's arrival, Priam finally forgave Cassandra and allowed her to leave her chambers. He gave her orders to avoid Paris' wife at all costs, lest she wanted to feel the full weight of his wrath. The King didn't need to bother with his words. Cassandra had no intention to harm Helen further. Plus, the former queen had taken to staying in bed most of the day.

With Cassandra's freedom came an increase of suitors the King paraded in front of her. Most were either powerful men or the sons of influential men. They all thought the princess lovely but couldn't stomach her disinterest. All left almost at a run.

Priam ranted and raved about her lackluster attitude, but nothing he said convinced her to care. No matter his allies, the King wouldn't win against most of Greece. Once, Cassandra told her father this, and he sentenced her to three days in her bedchamber.

On her second day of imprisonment, Hector knocked on her door. She hadn't seen much of him since King Menelaus had professed war. Her brother spent most of his time with the other generals in council and overseeing Troy's troops.

Cassandra turned away from her window and the lightning storm she'd watched all morning. "Come in."

Her brother opened her door and entered her chambers. He eyed her, then gestured to her bed. They both sat on it, and Hector took her left hand.

"I hear you're worried about this war."

"And you're not?"

Hector chuckled. "I'm not going to lie to you. Of course, I am; I'm terrified. But I am every time we encounter opposition."

"Doesn't it upset you to go to war over something so absurd?"

"There is more to this than Helen."

But nothing a negotiations meeting couldn't handle, Cassandra thought, but wouldn't say. She'd mentioned that to one of Priam's advisors a few days prior, and he'd told her she couldn't possibly understand the complexities of ruling and needed to keep her ignorant opinions to herself. That night, Cassandra had prayed to the gods to make the advisor's hair leave him faster than it already was.

"You do know his army outnumbers ours, right?"

"For now, but we've just started. Troy has many friends, too."

"It won't be enough."

Her brother sighed. "What's happened to you? Why have you become so pessimistic?"

Cassandra looked away. "I'm just painfully aware of reality. Something all of you are trying to avoid. It'll be the death of Troy."

Hector pouted. "When did you lose your faith in me?"

Cassandra sighed. "It's not that."

"Then what?"

Cassandra removed her hand from her brother's. Even if Apollo hadn't cursed her, she knew Hector wouldn't consider her misgivings. Since he'd joined the military, Troy's troops had overcome all their endeavors. Hector had no reason to believe the same wouldn't happen now. "I'm tired," she told her brother.

"It's not even mid-morning yet."

"That doesn't change the fact."

Hector stood and glared down at her. "Maybe more days in here will fix your unsettling behavior."

"I wouldn't bet a healthy crop harvest on it."

Hector marched to the door. He glanced over his shoulder. Sadness replaced his previous frustration. "I don't like who you're becoming."

He left without further comment.

Cassandra pulled her knees to her chest. She rested her head in her lap and cried. If admitting it would make a difference, she didn't like who she was becoming, either.

***

Despite his threat, Hector didn't petition the King to expand her sentence. And two days later Cassandra left her bedchamber and resumed her praying and garden-tending. She passed Hector on her way to Aesacus' old chambers moments after her release, but he refused to meet her gaze. Cassandra spent more time sobbing that day than praying.

A week after Cassandra's freedom, Hecuba went into labor. For an entire day, the palace forgot about the war and focused on the Queen and her newest child. Priam paced outside the Queen's chambers and winced every time Hecuba screamed.

Cassandra prayed to Eileithyia all during her mother's ordeal. When news reached her that the Queen had given birth to a sturdy, beautiful boy and looked to be on the road to a fast recovery, Cassandra cheered. For a bit after that, she sang the goddess' praises and vowed to always honor the wonderful being.

Later that day, Cassandra went to her newest brother's chamber--the one every child of Priam and Hecuba had occupied in their early years. The wet-nurse had just tended to Cassandra's youngest brother when Cassandra opened the door. The older woman smiled and held out the child to Cassandra.

"Would you like to meet him, my Lady?"

Cassandra nodded and approached them. She took the child in her arms like she'd done with all her younger siblings before and gazed at his still-red face. He stared back with the most enormous blue eyes Cassandra had ever seen. She ran a finger over his already twisting blond hair and marveled at how much he looked like the Queen.

"He's spectacular, isn't he?"

The child grasped Cassandra's finger and squeezed tight. Cassandra laughed. "He is." She cooed unintelligible words at him until he made a face at her. "What's his name?"

"No one's told you yet?"

"I've been hard to find today," Cassandra lied. This new servant didn't need to hear her woes, and she didn't want any more rumors circling about her.

"Oh..." The wet-nurse glanced away, and Cassandra knew tales of her oddities had already reached the woman's ears. "The King named him Polydorus."

"Hello, Polydorus," Cassandra said to her brother and kissed his soft cheek.

As soon as her lips touched his skin, a prophecy engulfed her. An older Polydorus--the boy didn't stand past her mid-chest--raced out onto a chaotic battlefield. He sped through the adult men and cut at their legs with a small dagger. His sure, quick jabs mimicked Hector's fighting style. Polydorus' actions brought much-needed distractions for Troy's troops, and pure joy radiated from the boy's face.

A buff, tall man with closely shaved black hair spotted the young prince. He positioned himself close to the unaware boy and threw his spear. The man's aim was true, and the spear skewered the boy's stomach. Polydorus screamed and toppled to the ground. The man found the dying boy and, without fanfare, severed Polydorus' head from his body.

The vision ended, and Cassandra came back to herself. Tears dripped from her eyes and onto Polydorus' face. The child squealed, and he squirmed in Cassandra's arms.

The wet-nurse reached out. "Maybe I should--"

"No!" came a cry from the door.

Cassandra and the wet-nurse turned to see Polyxena standing in the doorway. She pointed from Cassandra to the wet-nurse. Rage colored her cheeks an unsettling pink.

"Don't let her touch him," the youngest princess commanded.

"My Lady, I don't--"

Polyxena cut the wet-nurse off with a sharp hand gesture, then hurried into the bedchamber. She wrenched Polydorus from Cassandra. "Never come near him again."

Shock rendered Cassandra motionless. "Why not?"

"You'll poison him."

"Poison him? What are you talking about?"

"You're sick. Bad." Polyxena pointed at the door. "Go, and don't come back here."

"You can't speak to me this way."

"Go," Polyxena repeated with another jab at the door.

Cassandra looked at her sister and brother then the wet-nurse. The servant twisted her hands as she eyed the unhappy child Polyxena held. The sharp annoyance at her sister's rude tone fled Cassandra. She lowered her head and retreated. More tears fell down her face, but Cassandra didn't notice or care.

Part Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Eight years after King Menelaus issued war, the battle between Troy and Greece raged on. Though a vision had never outright told Cassandra this, she believed the gods purposefully continued the fighting to earth many demigod heroes. Every current-living demigod hero Cassandra had ever heard of fought either for Troy or Greece. A few had already perished, and various prophecies had revealed more death on the horizon.

Shortly into the war (around the time Hector married Andromache, daughter of the king of Thebe Hypoplakia), Cassandra decided to get a handle on her visions, and, while not as good as Aesacus, she grew accustomed to their severity and vividness. Now when one hit her, she hardly reacted and could go on with her day within moments. And any person around her was none the wiser.

Not that she had to worry about disturbing the masses. Solitude consumed much of Cassandra's days. She'd go weeks without speaking to a family member, and the servants and slaves only addressed her when necessary. Cassandra had long ago given up on keeping attendants.

For the first two years, her isolation bothered Cassandra so much she cried herself to sleep almost every night. On more than one occasion she groveled before her siblings, but to no prevail. She only drove them away from her faster. Like Creusa and her husband. They'd claimed they'd wanted to move into the city because the palace felt too crowded, but Cassandra knew her presence disturbed Aeneas.

All except Helenus avoided Cassandra. He did his best to spend time with his twin, but the war took most his focus. Against the Queen's wishes, Priam allowed all his age-appropriate sons to participate in the war any way they chose. Helenus didn't do much fighting but acted as personal messenger to the King and Hector.

To Cassandra's dismay, when her twin wasn't with her or doing his part in the war, he kept Helen company. The former queen didn't appear to like the young prince much, but Cassandra had overheard Helen say Helenus reminded her of Hector, enough so she could pretend she was in better company. Cassandra had been sheering a bush in the garden at the time and had considered snipping off all of Helen's hair, but she hadn't retaliated for fear of the King's response.

Priam continued to bring suitors before Cassandra, and though she reacted better than she previously had, her behavior didn't foster any serious interest from the men. The King grumbled about her lack of marriage but didn't bother her about it. She kept herself busy with noble pursuits, never wandered away from the palace like she had in her youth, and no longer worried everyone with her delusions. Cassandra seemed the perfect image of a mindful daughter.

***

On the hottest summer day of her twenty-fifth year, Cassandra picked a handful of flowers she planned to take to the Queen later. Her mother had been ill in bed for the past three days and could use the kind gesture. Plus, she hadn't been alone with Hecuba in months, and she missed her mother's undistracted attention. Sure, the Queen would talk nonstop about her girlhood, but Cassandra didn't mind the stories as much as she once had.

With her back to the main garden path, Cassandra hummed to herself as she worked. The song, one Agatha had sung to her in her childhood, didn't bring much more than a flicker of nostalgia, but Cassandra relished in the emotion nonetheless. Some days she felt so hollow she almost forgot what feelings were.

Suddenly, someone tapped on her shoulder. Cassandra jumped and uttered a cry. She whirled around to meet her laughing twin.

"Are you trying to make my heart stop?"

Helenus ceased laughing and smiled. "And if I am?"

Cassandra swatted at her brother's chest. "You're an unpleasant dolt, you know that?"

Her twin kissed her cheek. "Love you, too."

Cassandra turned back to the flowers. "What's brought you out here to bother me?"

"You should see what I found."

Cassandra rolled her eyes but returned her attention to Helenus. At the sight of what he held, her breath caught in her chest. Her mouth flopped open, and her stomach hurt like someone had kicked her.

Helenus' grin widened. "These do belong to you."

"W-where did you get t-those?"

Helenus adjusted his grip on the unique bow and quiver of arrows Apollo had given Cassandra. "A servant discovered them in the horse barn the summer we turned seventeen. He thought they might belong to Deiphobus or Polites, but I knew better. I was going to return them to you, but that was around the time you went--our lives got hectic.

"So, I put them in a trunk in my bedchamber, and forgot all about them 'til I came across them yesterday." He held the hunting equipment out to her. "Would you like them back?"

Cassandra's hands shook as she took her old gifts. Memories she'd thought buried washed over her. She remembered hunting with Apollo, saving him from the chimera, spending many afternoons just talking, the multiple times she'd wanted to kiss and stroke the sun god.

"How did you come by these amazing specimens?"

Cassandra didn't hear her brother as the terrible times with Apollo overrode the good. Her heart hardened, and she threw the quiver to the ground. She stomped on the arrows yet couldn't break or bend them. Her anger at peak level, Cassandra tried to snap the bow over her knee. She couldn't damage the material.

She screeched and tossed the bow away.

Helenus coughed. "You wouldn't want to hunt with me, then?"

Cassandra shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself in the hope to quell her mounting wrath and sadness. "Now...now isn't the time."

"It might make you feel better."

"Not today."

Helenus frowned. "I don't know when I'll be able to see you next. I'd like to--It's been years since we hunted. I miss it."

Cassandra made to decline again but paused. For years, all she'd wanted was to move on from her ordeal with Apollo and Hermes. She'd believed not thinking about it and avoiding anything that reminded her of the happiest and most devastating time of her life would accomplish that. Yet it hadn't. Maybe she needed to do the opposite, and hunting with Helenus would be a good, small first step.

And what if her twin didn't survive his next war-related task? She'd never forgive herself for forgoing precious time with him.

Cassandra distanced her current swirling emotions and managed a soft smile. "I miss it, too. And I'd love to do that."

Helenus' face lit up. "Really? Today?"

She nodded. "Gather the equipment, and I'll meet you at the horse stables."

Boyish enthusiasm overtook her twin, and he ran at full speed back the way he'd come.

After his departure, Cassandra signaled to a passing servant. The older man bowed and approached. She handed him the flowers she'd gathered. "Give these to the Queen." She pointed at the bow, quiver, and discarded arrows. "And have these thrown in the river. I will not tolerate their presence on palace grounds."

The servant bowed again. "As you wish, my Lady." He took the flowers, then gathered Apollo's gifts.

Cassandra dismissed him and hurried to the meeting spot. While she traveled, she wondered if she should change. Over the years, Cassandra had taken to dressing more akin to the servants, to impress the gods, but she still wore clothing better suited for palace activities. Halfway to the horse stables, she laughed as she remembered how she used to trek through the forest in her finest peploi and sandals. Oh, how her mother had complained!

Her merriment continued after she reached her destination. Cassandra still tittered when Helenus found her. A puzzled expression crossed his face as he handed her one of his well-made bows and a quiver.

"What have I missed?"

Cassandra swallowed her chuckles. "Just reminiscing about my previous poor behavior."

"You did love goading Deiphobus."

Cassandra smirked. "He shouldn't have made it so easy."

Helenus let out a full-belly laugh. Cassandra joined him, and tears welled in her eyes as it hit her how much she missed this closeness with her twin. Apollo and Hermes had done much more to her than make it impossible to love a man, they'd almost ruined her ability to connect with those that mattered to her most. She'd convinced herself her wounds weren't so thick, but she couldn't deny the truth any longer.

As she shouldered the quiver and positioned the bow in her right hand better, Cassandra swore she'd begin healing today. Though her visions still showed Troy falling, she'd enjoy what time she had left with her family. What good did alienating herself and being unhappy do?

Once they'd quieted, the twins discussed their course of action. Then, with a reflexive glance around to ensure their secrecy, they entered the forest. Cassandra inhaled deep, and let the familiar, comforting scents awaken the happiness only being in the woods could bring. She ran a hand over the nearest tree trunk and tapped her foot on the loose dirt.

Helenus watched her; a grin stretched his lips so far it had to hurt. But he didn't comment. Nor did he rush her.

Finally, Cassandra nodded, and the twins crept further into the woods. Dismay washed over her as she realized she'd lost much of her skill. She didn't clomp through the underbrush like a blind bear, but she performed more than her fair share of stupid mistakes. Many birds and small rodents sped away from her careless steps.

And when she came across worthy prey--a decent-sized doe--she tried to shoot it but held her bow wrong, and the arrow fell to the ground a few paces in front of her. The doe flicked its tail and darted into a denser part of the forest. Up until now, Helenus hadn't made a sound, but a laugh tore from him.

Cassandra groaned. "This isn't funny."

Helenus wiped at his eyes. "No, I know, but--Occasionally, Deiphobus will lament about your cheating and the gods' unfair favoritism of you. If only he could see you now, the shock would kill him."

Cassandra glared at her twin. "Don't you dare tell him."

Helenus shook his head. "I wouldn't even if I wanted to. Hector would be upset with me for offing one of his best soldiers."

"Yes, well--"

At once, a vision overcame Cassandra. She saw two men, their faces obscured with black smoke, bow before Priam. The King smiled and boomed warm words of welcome. As the men straightened, the vision ended.

Cassandra returned to herself with such swiftness, it caught her off guard, and she tripped. She attempted to use the bow to steady her movement, and the wood broke in two. She crashed to the ground.

In an instant, Helenus crouched beside her. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I just...lost my footing. I'm fine." Cassandra allowed him to help her stand. Once righted, she pointed at the broken bow. "I'm so sorry."

Helenus shrugged. "I've wanted a new one for some time. Now I have an excuse." He put an arm around her middle. "But we'll worry about that later. Right now, we need to go home, and have the doctor look over you."

Cassandra wasn't hurt, but her adventure in the woods couldn't continue. It had tired her more than she liked; left her ashamed. Where had her youthful vigor gone? Yes, she'd long left girlhood, but she was far from a crone. How had she lost so much in such a short time?

On top of nursing her wounded pride, she wanted to reflect on her vision and its importance, if any, to all her previous ones. She'd yet to receive a prophecy she hadn't found meaning in, even if she'd only had it to show her how terribly one-sided this war was.

Cassandra leaned against Helenus. "If you promise to skip the doctor, I'll go home without a fuss."

Her brother eyed her for a moment, then nodded. "Deal."

Chapter Twenty-Six

A servant spotted the twins as they crested the hill to the palace. The woman shouted to get their attention, then ran to them. She bowed as she neared. "I'm glad I found you."

Helenus pulled away from Cassandra, and his body stiffened. "Why? What's occurred?"

The servant inclined her head to the prince. "The High Prince is looking for you." She looked at Cassandra, and her mouth pursed. "The King would like to see you in the throne room, my Lady."

"Should I change first?"

The servant considered the question. She shook her head. "There's no time, my Lady. The King has already been waiting for some time."

Helenus kissed Cassandra's cheeks. "It'll be fine, I'm sure."

"Easy for you to say," Cassandra mumbled.

Her brother nudged her toward the servant. "Just charm the King with your smile. You used to do it all the time."

Yes, back when he liked me, Cassandra thought but didn't dare say. Over the years she'd grown very suspicious of the palace staff. None of her actions went unreported. At first, she'd believed the King or Deiphobus had ordered the servants to watch her, but Cassandra had come to realize the servants and slaves did it to entertain themselves. They considered her a sad, pathetic creature to be mocked. Since they couldn't do it to her face without repercussions, they found pleasure making her continuously feel under inspection. She had to second-guess her every action.

Cassandra sighed. "I'll try."

Helenus waved as he turned. "I'll see you soon."

Cassandra wished him well, and watched her twin race away, though she knew she couldn't afford to. The servant fidgeted, and Cassandra quite liked the woman's discomfort. No, she didn't want the servant to suffer for her bad behavior, and Cassandra would vouch for the woman if her father chose to act cruelly, but, right now, she felt she exacted revenge on all those who thought her nothing more than gossip fodder.

"My Lady?"

"You're dismissed."

"But the King wanted me to ensure you went to--"

Cassandra set off for the throne room at a quick clip. She didn't check to see if the servant followed her, and she didn't care. She just wanted to get past the King's summons and head to her bedchamber.

At the throne room doors, two guardsmen who hadn't been there before the war bowed to Cassandra. She acknowledged them each with a tight nod, and the right guard opened the doors. He reclaimed his post, and Cassandra entered the throne room.

Priam stood before the dais' steps; for once free of his hovering advisors. He'd been conversing with two strange men before Cassandra's arrival, and now all three men eyed her in silence as she approached the throne.

Before the King, Cassandra curtsied. As she did, she noticed her father's slight frown as he took notice of her crumpled appearance. His gaze held a tired annoyance he reserved solely for her.

"Sorry for the delay, my King," she said, her voice even, almost void of emotion.

The King's features relaxed, and he chuckled. Only his eyes still betrayed his true feelings. "To the young, what importance does time hold?" he asked the two strangers. Neither man answered though the older of the two laughed with Priam.

Her father gestured for Cassandra to get closer to the trio. She did as he wished and stood beside the King as he introduced the men--her newest suitors--to her. The older one was Coroebus, the son of King Mygdon, the ruler of Phrygia. He had prominent features and black hair he wore in a series of braids. His bronze-colored eyes evaluated the princess. He grinned but didn't seem overly impressed.

The second man, named Othryoneus and the only son of the prince of Cabesos, didn't have as handsome of a face as his rival, yet Cassandra found he held all her attention. He had the oddest yellow-brown eyes and short hair that didn't know if it wanted to be brown or blonde. With every tilt of his head, different strands caught the available light and changed the color. He wore an easy-going expression that, despite her best efforts, put Cassandra at ease.

Each suitor bowed before Cassandra, then took her right hand and kissed it. Coroebus went first and left a bit of spittle on her knuckles. She almost giggled when Othryoneus placed his lips directly on the spit and grimaced.

"Nice to meet you both," Cassandra said with the poise befitting her rank; she betrayed none of her amusement.

The unhappiness lessened from the wrinkles around Priam's eyes. He returned the suitors' focus to him. "I've had a meal prepared for the occasion. I say we adjourn to the dining hall."

"Is there wine?" Coroebus asked.

"Of course."

Coroebus' grin widened. "I can't wait to try Troy's best offerings."

"Uh," Othryoneus started, and the King's gaze bored into him. "I'm not very hungry right now. I was wondering--" He glanced at Cassandra. "If your intriguing daughter would care to show me the palace, to awaken my appetite?"

"I'd love to," Cassandra said. She saw her father nod his approval.

"Keep it short," the King ordered.

"Yes." Cassandra held her arm out to Othryoneus. "Shall we?"

Othryoneus took her arm, and Cassandra led him to the throne room doors. After she'd called for the guards to open them for her, she evaluated how being near one of her newest suitors made her feel. He didn't make her nervous by trembling uncontrollably like the previous man had. Nor did her skin crawl like it had when the horrid Larciss had touched her.

No, Cassandra discovered she didn't mind his brief company. Othryoneus stood proudly but didn't radiate a rotten ego. His firm grip on her arm remained respectful. And his gaze never drifted lower than her chin.

"Where will we go first?" Othryoneus asked when the guards had cleared a passage for them.

Cassandra thought for a moment. For reasons she couldn't grasp, she wanted him to see her garden. Since she'd shown Larciss it, Cassandra had never considered taking another suitor there. Most of the men hadn't seemed the type to appreciate the beauty of plants. Plus, the garden had become one of the few places Cassandra allowed herself any sort of internal peace.

"I've done a lot of work in the palace garden. Would you...like to see it?"

Amusement brightened Othryoneus' face. "You work with flora?"

Irritation burned Cassandra's cheeks. "In fact, I do."

"Explains your appearance."

She hadn't thought she'd ever mention it, especially to a suitor, but Cassandra blurted, "I look this way because I'd just returned from a hunt with my brother when I received the King's summons. How unfortunate for you I couldn't change before upsetting you with my unsightly presence."

Othryoneus smirked. "You hunt, too?"

Cassandra untangled herself from him. "I speak the truth, regardless if you chose to believe it or not."

Othryoneus studied her. Then his teasing expression left him. "The King allows you those pursuits?"

The awe in his voice surprised Cassandra, and she didn't answer at first. "Well, he doesn't have a problem with the gardening. The hunting on the other hand...I'd appreciate it if you didn't repeat what I just revealed to you. The King thinks I've learned to behave."

Othryoneus shook his head. "I wouldn't betray your confidence."

Cassandra managed a small smile. This suitor meant well enough, and his shock at her revelations was understandable. How many noble women, especially princesses, bothered to dirty their hands, and for fun? No wonder he had first considered her words to be lies.

"So, would you like to see the garden?"

"Yes, I would."

Othryoneus offered his hand, and Cassandra placed hers atop it. Then she steered him toward the garden. While they walked, he asked her questions about hunting, though Othryoneus admitted he didn't know much more than what he overheard his father and his friends talk about. When he was younger, Othryoneus' father had tried to get his son interested in the sport, but, though Othryoneus respected the skill required, he didn't have the stomach for it.

The ease with which Cassandra spoke with her suitor reminded her of her time with Apollo. She felt she could reveal her most earnest secrets and Othryoneus would listen and understand. His interest in her words appeared genuine and not just a ploy to gain favor over Coroebus.

Just before they reached the garden, a ridiculous thought came to Cassandra. Could Othryoneus be the sun god in disguise? After all these years, could he want to rekindle what they'd once shared? Would he go through all this trouble for her?

Bitter sense shredded her hope. Of course, Apollo wouldn't. It'd been too long. If the sun god had wanted to be a part of her life, he would have shown an effort before now.

With her destroyed optimism came sudden anger at Othryoneus. Cassandra knew the poor man didn't deserve her rage, but that didn't stop her from stepping away from him like he'd just sprouted horns.

"Is something wrong?"

"Look, I'm not interested in becoming anyone's wife. You wasted your time coming here."

Othryoneus' lips pursed. "I just--Why don't we--I would like to see the garden."

"See it by yourself. Keep going forward and take a right."

"And you?"

"I need to rest." Then, because she liked him more than would let herself believe, she added, "I'm really sorry. I was having fun. You're--You can do better than me."

She turned around before he could comment and ran for the safety of the palace.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Cassandra yanked on Polydorus (already a strapping young boy at the age of eight) until he dropped the dagger he held. His upturned eyes bored into her, a combination of fear and loathing in their depths. Her brother's apparent dislike of her stabbed Cassandra's heart like always, but she ignored the old wound.

"What do you think you were doing?" she demanded.

Polydorus puffed out his chest. "Practicing."

"For?" But Cassandra didn't have to ask. Though both the King and Queen had forbidden it, Polydorus one day planned to fight alongside his older brothers. Hector had already taught him how to defend himself, but not for the reasons Polydorus thought.

Polydorus struggled in Cassandra's grip. "It's none of your concern. Unhand me!"

Cassandra dropped to her knees before her brother; her hand still clamped tight around his left wrist. The image of his decapitated body crossed her mind like it always did whenever she stared at him for more than a moment. Since the vision she'd had after his birth, Cassandra had done everything to change his destiny, yet he fought her at every turn. Sometimes, she wondered if her actions drove him more toward his grisly fate, but she loved him too much to not try.

"You'll get your day when you're older. Why are you so eager for the battlefield?"

Polydorus opened his mouth, but a shout from behind them distracted him. The siblings turned, and the sight of a furious Polyxena approaching met them. The eighteen-year-old reached the pair and took hold of Polydorus' free wrist. She towered over Cassandra's crouched form.

"Why are you bothering him?"

The venom in her sister's voice felt like a slap but wasn't unexpected. In the years of the war, she couldn't remember a time when Polyxena hadn't treated her like a pile of horse dung. Most often she ignored Cassandra, yet she never held her tongue when she had a biting comment.

Cassandra wished she knew who'd turned her sister against her. Long ago, she'd even exhausted herself trying to find the culprit. A small part of Cassandra, though, thought she'd done the damage herself. Once, back after Polyxena had just turned thirteen, she'd cornered her sister and asked, but Polyxena had laughed in her face.

"He was sneaking off the palace grounds," Cassandra said. She pointed at the fallen dagger. "He planned to go make trouble with that."

Polyxena snorted. "And? You used to hunt in the woods all the time. How is this any different?"

"I wasn't his age doing that."

"The age doesn't matter, you hypocrite."

"Well, Father and Mother don't want him doing this."

Polyxena bent her face close to Cassandra's. "Are you going tattle on him?"

Cassandra's gaze narrowed. "I will if it'll keep him safe."

Polyxena smirked. "I don't think our parents will care much when I reveal where you went with Helenus the other day."

As one of Cassandra's first prophecies had shown, Polyxena had grown into a stunning woman, with a face the perfect combination of Priam and Hecuba. Yet the coldness in her features made her seem less beautiful and more like a creature waiting to pounce.

And her sister's threat didn't shock Cassandra. Polyxena went to great lengths to protect Polydorus from the illness she thought Cassandra had. She contradicted every word Cassandra spoke to their youngest brother, and on more than one occasion Polyxena had even assaulted Cassandra to rescue Polydorus.

Cassandra sighed. "I just don't want him to get hurt. Why does that make me a bad person?"

"Because you can't even look after yourself." Polyxena tugged hard on Polydorus' arm, and Cassandra let the boy go. "His welfare is my concern, not yours. Don't bother him again."

"But--"

Polyxena spun around and, with Polydorus in tow, marched away from Cassandra. They found a path that would lead them to a grove just outside the palace walls the King had declared safe. In a short time, Cassandra knew Polydorus would escape Polyxena and venture into more dangerous territory--he always did. And what if today was the day the boy died? Cassandra didn't want that on Polyxena's conscious, but she couldn't think of a way to intervene that wouldn't cause more problems.

So, she watched her siblings leave; her mind whirled with prayers. If Eileithyia had come through for Hecuba, another god might look after for her siblings.

Cassandra stood and gazed in the direction Polyxena and Polydorus had left after their forms had disappeared. Lost in deep thought, she didn't hear Othryoneus' approach. She jumped when he tapped her on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry to scare you," Othryoneus said when Cassandra faced him.

Cassandra frowned. "I'm not scared, just a bit startled. What do you want?"

Annoyance dripped from her words, and she didn't care about her rudeness. Cassandra had told Othryoneus to leave her be four days ago and had expected him to return home. Coroebus had the day before, but the prince had been so taken with Troy's hospitality he'd vowed to aid Priam however he could. Othryoneus had made a similar offer, yet still, he remained at the palace.

Othryoneus smiled. "Have you eaten recently?"

"Why?"

"I'd like to dine with you."

"I can't. I have...devotions to perform."

Cassandra hadn't planned to until later in the day, but it gladdened her to use the excuse now. All the other suitors she'd told of her religious activities had instantly lost interest in her. And even if Othryoneus didn't find it unattractive, he couldn't possibly want to--

"May I join you?" he asked.

"It's personal."

"Then can I just watch? I could probably learn a thing or two. I'm not very good with prayers."

"It's going to be a long day." And she spoke the truth. Today was the day she'd planned to pray to the most powerful gods.

Othryoneus shrugged. "I have time."

Cassandra longed to yell at him but swallowed her discontent. She nodded and gestured for him to follow her. She didn't check to see if he kept up as she hurried to Aesacus' chambers. Cassandra took the long way in the hope the twists and turns confused the suitor, and he got lost.

Her wish was dashed when she reached the door to Aesacus' chambers and found him right behind her. Cassandra groaned under her breath, then opened the door. The two servants Cassandra had ordered to set up the altar room bowed to both her and Cassandra dismissed them.

She pointed at the far-left corner. "Please remain over there for the duration of my devotions."

Othryoneus nodded. "Will do."

After he situated himself, Cassandra performed her regular routine. She lit candles and burned herbs. Then Cassandra went about her offerings and chants. She took longer than usual to irritate Othryoneus, but every time she glanced at her suitor, he grinned and gave a little wave.

By the time she finished, Cassandra's mood had turned as dark as the sky outside. As she cleaned the room, Othryoneus left his corner and stood in Cassandra's line of sight. He made to help her, but she stopped him.

"No, I like to do this myself."

"Fine." Othryoneus leaned against a wall. "So, if I'm correct, you prayed to the Olympians today."

"Yes."

"But not to all of them."

Cassandra paused her actions but didn't comment. She braced herself for the following question.

"You even prayed to The Rich One but snubbed two of the most powerful gods. Why? That doesn't seem wise."

Cassandra glared at him. "I don't think it's any of your concern."

"I'm not trying to condemn you. I only worry you're causing problems for yourself."

Cassandra passed him the supplies she held. "Thank you for your concern. And today was so much fun, but I'm tired now. Goodnight."

Othryoneus called for her, but Cassandra's steps didn't falter as she exited the room. She told a servant she crossed paths with to check on her suitor and to finish cleaning the altar room. Then she continued to her bedchamber, all while thinking Othryoneus couldn't want to pursue her any longer.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Othryoneus proved a harder man to discourage than Cassandra had thought. He never outright forced her to be around him, but Othryoneus always suggested spending time with her whenever they were in earshot of the King, Queen, or Deiphobus (Cassandra's brother had taken to following the pair to ensure his sister's virtue). Cassandra would agree as expected, but glare at her suitor every moment she could.

His insistence didn't bother her as much as her flattery at his actions did. Cassandra hadn't lied to Othryoneus when she said she didn't want to be someone's wife. She'd never make any man happy, even if she tried. And despite his exasperating tenacity, Othryoneus seemed a good man. He deserved a woman who could give him all her heart, who wasn't as damaged as Apollo and Hermes had left her.

But, though she knew she'd grumble and act like a brat, joy filled Cassandra when Othryoneus sought out her attention. After a few weeks, she woke with a smile on her face as he was her first thought of the day.

During their time together Othryoneus talked a lot about himself. He'd occasionally ask Cassandra questions, but she never answered all of them. With those she ignored, he'd instead speak as if she'd asked him it. Cassandra didn't let on, but she adored hearing of his childhood in Cabesos. He hadn't lived as grandly as she had, and he'd been terribly lonely without a mother or siblings, but his father had done his best to make Othryoneus happy. From the sounds of it, Othryoneus' father would challenge Zeus if it meant ensuring his son didn't have to suffer.

Cassandra didn't tell Othryoneus, but she envied him.

***

Their relationship changed a day in early fall. Cassandra caught Polydorus climbing back over the palace walls with weapons he'd stolen from the guardsmen. Like before, she yelled at him and Polyxena came to their youngest brother's defense. Though this time, Polyxena hurled cruel insults and disgusting words Cassandra hadn't thought she knew. Cassandra wanted to walk away, but her pride wouldn't let her. She retaliated, and the sisters would have gotten into a physical fight if Othryoneus didn't intervene.

"Take him to get cleaned up," Othryoneus ordered Polyxena.

"You dare command me?"

Othryoneus didn't back down from Polyxena's hot stare. He stood a head taller than her and had the bulk to rival Hector's. Polyxena's intense stare pinned him, then she took Polydorus' hand and fled.

The suitor turned his focus on Cassandra. "Are you okay? That--What she said--"

Cassandra flinched. Polyxena had screamed for the entire palace to hear about Cassandra's insanity, how much of a waste of flesh she was. Cassandra had heard it all before, and not just from Polyxena, but knowing Othryoneus had heard the damaging words made Polyxena's insults hurt as severely as the first time they'd been uttered. Tears fell from Cassandra's eyes, but she dropped her head so Othryoneus wouldn't see them.

"I... I'm sorry you witnessed such horrendous behavior," she said, her voice steady even though her hands trembled. "She, um--I know I shouldn't have--"

"I saw the entire thing. You didn't do anything wrong."

Surprise made Cassandra raise her head. In years, no one had come to her defense, not even Helenus. Her twin wouldn't let anyone treat her too harshly, but he never put a stop to it like Othryoneus had.

Othryoneus wiped away Cassandra's tears. "You know, I want to--" He sighed. "Why won't you let me court you?"

Cassandra felt too wounded to lie. "I'm not worthy of you."

Othryoneus reached for Cassandra, and she let him take her in his arms. He tilted her head, so they gazed into one another's eyes. "No, Cassandra. No man is worthy of you." He bent close. "But I'd like to try and be."

If Cassandra cared about him as much as she refused to believe, she would have turned him down. But it felt nice to have someone look at her like Othryoneus did. And what if she wasn't as damaged as she'd convinced herself she was? By the gods, Cassandra wanted to love, and she wanted to give it to Othryoneus.

Cassandra stood on the tip of her toes, so her lips hovered near his. "I'll give you a chance."

Othryoneus kissed her. Her mind didn't fog, nor did her legs weaken like when Hermes had seduced her. Neither did Cassandra feel a soul-elating rightness like she had with Apollo. She discovered no mortal's lips could compare to a god's, yet the softness and surety Othryoneus radiated held its own thrill. Through their kiss, Cassandra could tell how much he cared about her, how he would devote every waking hour to make her smile. His heart was pure and hers.

"Hey!" Deiphobus' voice cried from a distance. "None of that. Stop right now!"

Cassandra and Othryoneus broke apart with a giggle. As her brother approached to give the pair a thorough scolding, she took Othryoneus' hand. Contentedness filled her and gave her reason to dream of a better tomorrow.

***

From that moment on, Othryoneus exhausted himself as he showed Cassandra the depth of his love. Every day he brought new presents or flowers. He never left her side, though Deiphobus trailed them like a well-trained hunting dog and didn't let them get too close. Othryoneus didn't woo her with empty, sentimental words, but instead by being her most trusted confidant. He never appeared too distracted to listen to her misgivings and didn't call her an idiot for worrying about Troy's fate. He even shared a few of her thoughts.

As they grew closer, a fierce debate raged inside Cassandra. She wanted to expose her gift of prophecy, and the curse Apollo had placed on her, but she didn't know if the curse would prevent Othryoneus from believing her. And if he didn't, would he think her as mad as the rumors claimed?

On the other hand, what if she did convince him of the truth? Would he flee in terror? Could he marry a woman so heavily impacted by the gods?

And if she kept her secrets to herself, could Cassandra live with them? What if they plagued any children they might have? Could she risk that?

Loneliness and selfishness finally decided Cassandra, and she remained silent. She'd suffered for years, and she refused to lose the one good thing to happen to her for far too long. All her concerns would work themselves out.

***

Toward the end of fall, Othryoneus came to Cassandra early one morning. Her handmaidens had just bathed and dressed her in a peplos Hecuba had selected. Since Cassandra and Othryoneus had made their intentions clear, the Queen had taken an intense interest in Cassandra. She was almost as bad as Deiphobus following the young couple, except she didn't throw a fit whenever Cassandra and Othryoneus held hands or kissed. Often, she encouraged the couple's affection and raged at Deiphobus when he yelled at them.

Othryoneus stood in her open door; the small smile he wore whenever in her presence on his face. "You look incredible."

Cassandra blushed (a sensation she hadn't realized she enjoyed until all reasons to do so had vanished). "Thank you."

Othryoneus entered her bedchamber and enveloped her in a tight hug. Then, after glancing around to ensure their privacy, he kissed her. Warmth pooled in Cassandra's stomach and she pulled him closer. Her eagerness made Othryoneus chuckle, and he released her.

"Ready for our day?"

"Yes."

"How do you feel about horseback riding?"

Usually, the idea made Cassandra apprehensive. She knew how to ride and had a fair amount of skill, but she didn't like being at the mercy of a massive beast. Her riding instructor had told her gruesome stories about when horses got startled or angry and forewent their training. And after her vision of the horse covered in eyes, Cassandra often had nightmares about the creatures.

Now, though, Cassandra didn't hesitate to say, "I love it." She relished in every opportunity to be around Othryoneus and wouldn't let little worries ruin their time together. Plus, the playful glint in his eyes enticed her to see what he had planned.

Othryoneus cheered and took Cassandra's hand. He drew her out of her bedchamber, and she looked for either of their shadows. Suspicion gripped her when she didn't see Deiphobus or her mother. Either Othryoneus had developed sudden craftiness, or this was part of his plot.

Cassandra didn't comment as the pair left the palace and headed for the stables, unhindered and alone. She pretended ignorance as Othryoneus stumbled over his words in an attempt at casual conversation. More than once, she had to suppress a laugh or hide a smile.

Attendants saddled the pair on the gentlest horses, then reminded the couple of the King's travel restrictions. Othryoneus promised they'd behave and urged his horse out of the stables. Cassandra petted her horse (one of her father's new ones she'd yet to learn the name of) and gave the mare the command to move forward. The horse reacted instantly, and they met up with Othryoneus and his steed outside.

They trotted to one of the well-kempt trails near the stables. While they traveled, the pair spoke; Othryoneus still sounded tongue-tied. Cassandra wanted to tease him, but the sense to pretend nothing was out of the ordinary had yet to leave her. So, she sat back and appreciated her mare's smooth gait and the beautiful day.

The path led the pair to the tree-lined field Cassandra and Helenus had played in often as children. In the middle of the field sat a blanket laden with all of Cassandra's favorite foods. A servant stood at the corner of the blanket and bowed when Cassandra and Othryoneus advanced.

Cassandra smiled at Othryoneus. "How did you know I liked all this?"

Othryoneus dismounted, then helped Cassandra to do so. He handed the reins to the servant, and the older man tethered the horses to the two closest trees. "I want to say I'm so in tune with you, but, in truth, I asked Helenus."

Cassandra kissed his cheek. "This is very kind of you. Thank you."

Othryoneus' glow brightened. He sat on the blanket and gestured to the spot next to him. "Come. Enjoy this bounty with me."

Cassandra sat, and the pair dug into the food. The impressive spread didn't compare to the meals she'd shared with Apollo, but the gesture meant more to her because Othryoneus had gone the extra distance to discover what she liked best. He hadn't used magic. Everything about him was wonderfully mortal.

Neither had eaten anything prior, and they ate much of the food. Cassandra had a little of every dish. Othryoneus copied her, though he found their tastes often ran opposite of each other. Cassandra asked him why he hadn't added anything for himself, but Othryoneus told her today was all about her.

Now at their destination, Othryoneus seemed more restless than ever. His hands shook, and his foot tapped nonstop. He knocked over three plates and dropped a full goblet of water into his lap. He apologized over and over to Cassandra and the servant.

After his last mishap, Cassandra took his hand. "What's on your mind? Why are you so nervous?"

Othryoneus gulped. "Well, I...I have something important to ask you."

"Ask away."

"I was wondering if I'd--Thank you for allowing me to love you."

"You do make it an easy task." Cassandra squeezed his hand. "That wasn't a question, by the way."

Othryoneus chuckled. "I-I know. I'm just--I rehearsed all this, so I shouldn't act like this. But now, here with you, I can't remember what--how I had my words." He groaned. "I sound like an ass."

Cassandra shook her head. "No, you don't." She leaned closer to him. "Would it help if I took a guess at what you're trying to say?"

"It might."

She paused as if she had to think hard, but Cassandra already knew. She'd had no vision, not that she needed one. For weeks she'd been waiting for Othryoneus to find the courage he currently grasped for. Had he not brought it up, Cassandra would have taken matters into her own hands, damn tradition.

"Are you trying to propose marriage?"

Othryoneus' eyes widened, but he nodded. "I-I--Do you want to--You'd make me the happiest man by becoming my wife. Life won't be as grand as what you're used to, but I'll make you smile every day, I swear."

"That's all I want."

"Are you saying yes?"

Cassandra pressed her lips against Othryoneus'. "Yes."

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The kiss they shared was their best to date. Yet, like every other time their kisses had turned from chaste to exhilarating, Cassandra compared Othryoneus to Apollo. Though she'd killed most of her longing for the god, she knew she'd never thoroughly purge herself of her feelings for him. Until he died, Othryoneus would live in the shadow of Cassandra's first love, but Cassandra would never let him know.

As they drew apart, Cassandra's sight tunneled. She cried out, and physically struggled like movement would stop the oncoming vision. No, not now! She didn't want anything to ruin her perfect moment with her husband-to-be.

The prophecy didn't care, and, with ease, dragged her under.

A battle waged below Cassandra. Trojans and Greeks stabbed and hacked at one another. Spears flew every which way, and the cries of anguish and conquest filled the air.

In an instant, Cassandra's focus found a Trojan covered from head-to-toe in the enemy's blood. The man moved with expertise and killed without flourish. His actions strengthened his fellow soldiers when he neared.

Beside the man moved a whirlwind of energy as red as the blood covering the battlefield. Animal grunts and hellish screams came from the cyclone. Somehow, Cassandra could see inside the column of energy and made out the raging figure in its depths. Its form transformed from boar to dog to vulture in the matter of a few heartbeats. It held a shield and sword it used interchangeably to kill any close-by Greeks.

Cassandra didn't know if the Trojan man--Hector--realized he fought with the war god, Ares. He moved as if unaware of Ares' intervention, yet he ducked and weaved at the right times to avoid a blow intended for a Greek soldier.

The fighting pair cut across the battlefield in an impressive display of skill. At this pace, they'd win the battle, and without too many more casualties to the Trojans. By dusk, the Trojans would celebrate a well-earned victory.

Then Hector's head turned, and he watched as a spear tethered Polydorus to the ground. He roared and raced toward his brother. But he didn't move fast enough, and the dark-haired man who'd speared Polydorus lopped off the young prince's head.

Hector met the dark-haired Greek in a fierce battle. Ares had followed Hector, but he didn't interfere. He kept back any soldier that attempted to aid either the Trojan or Greek.

The Trojan fought well, but his grief and fury drove him to take risks he wouldn't have otherwise. Hector moved like a man possessed, while the Greek challenged him with a level-head and sure blows.

One wrong move left Hector's chest unprotected, and the Greek took the opportunity. He stabbed his sword past Hector's armor and into the Trojan's heart; stopped it. Hector's movements ceased, and Ares fled from the battlefield.

The vision stopped there, and Cassandra came to reality with a shriek. She slapped at Othryoneus, who'd tried to take her hands. She jumped to her feet and ran over to the spooked horses.

"I don't think that's wise," the servant said.

"What's wrong?" Othryoneus called.

Cassandra paid neither of them any mind as she untethered her mare and mounted the horse. Quick, sharp commands wrangled the creature into her control, and she urged the mare to the opposite side of the field. There, she found a trail that would take her where she needed to go.

A part of her mind heard Othryoneus demand his steed, then give orders to the servant to go get help from the palace. Shortly after she'd entered the woods, Cassandra's husband-to-be followed her. He yelled her name, but Cassandra didn't slow her mare, nor did she respond to Othryoneus.

Cassandra reached her destination, a knoll that overlooked the large road that led to the palace's main gate. She dismounted, and her mare ran for the palace. Cassandra didn't care. She didn't need the horse any longer.

Othryoneus joined her. He left his steed, but the creature didn't race away like Cassandra's had. The horse trotted a bit farther down the knoll to graze.

"What's wrong?" Othryoneus asked again as he took Cassandra's hand.

Cassandra didn't reply, couldn't find the words to express her turbulent emotions. She merely looked at the main path and hoped her husband-to-be would leave. Othryoneus mumbled under his breath but didn't engage her further.

While they stood, Cassandra prayed to the gods. She hoped what she'd seen wouldn't come to pass, that it had somehow been a terrible metaphor. Yet, in her soul, she knew her vision would come true today.

More servants and the doctor came to see Cassandra, but she didn't respond to them. And after a bit, Othryoneus sent them away with orders to tell the King and Queen soon everything would work out. As the day wore on, food and drink were delivered. Othryoneus had a bit but couldn't convince Cassandra to consume even a tiny morsel.

Toward dusk, a lone figure raced along the road. The messenger moved as if Hermes had control of his movements, and in a blink of an eye, he was within the palace walls. It seemed like no time had passed when a terrible, blood-curdling scream echoed around the palace.

Othryoneus jumped. He looked at Cassandra, terror in his eyes. "What was that?" He took a step toward the palace. "Should we go see if we can assist?"

Cassandra tugged on his hand. "No. Please, stay with me."

"But--"

"The King will deal with my mother."

"Your mother?"

Cassandra offered no more information, and Othryoneus sighed. He reclaimed his spot beside her. Together they watched as the sun sank lower, and a bitter wind whipped around them. Cassandra shivered, but she didn't complain. Othryoneus wrapped an arm around her; his gesture offered little warmth.

Night settled, and the faint glow of torches could be seen on the road. As they neared the hill, Cassandra could make out the two wrapped figures carried by a vast progression of people. The dam around her emotions finally broke. Cassandra burst into tears and went limp against Othryoneus.

***

Creusa, being the closest and oldest sister, took control of the burial rituals. Hecuba should have led them, and she tried to on multiple occasions, but each time she either broke down into tears or fainted. For her health, the doctor demanded she remain in bed until the funeral procession.

For hours on the first day, Polyxena kept Cassandra out of the room where Hector's and Polydorus' bodies were washed and anointed with oil. She'd convinced herself Cassandra had been responsible for their brothers' deaths. After Cassandra pleaded and cried until her voice grew hoarse, Priam finally stepped in and ordered Polyxena to stand down. From then on, the sisters and Andromache worked in silence until they completed their gruesome task.

The dressed and wreathed bodies (Polydorus had to be fully covered to hide his grotesque injuries) were laid out at dawn the next day, and all of Troy came to pay their last respects to the King's two most treasured sons. On and off, family members stood with the King to greet the mourners. More than once Priam's advisors tried to get him to eat or take a moment to rest, but Priam wouldn't leave his sons.

Cassandra spotted Polyxena flitting through the large crowd. Every so many people, she'd stop and whisper in their ear. Somehow, they'd find Cassandra and stare her down until she fled the room. When she returned, the cycle would repeat. By mid-day, Cassandra couldn't withstand the soundless accusations without losing her mind.

She spent the rest of the day in Aesacus' ritual chamber. Cassandra didn't bother to pray, had nothing to say that wouldn't result in more gods' anger. She sat on the floor and cried. The brief times her tears ceased, Cassandra relived the many cherished memories she had of Hector and the few she'd managed to make when Polydorus had been younger. They comforted her when not even Helenus could be bothered to come to her side.

Othryoneus found her in the late afternoon. He begged her forgiveness for his absence. The King had asked him to stay with him to keep the advisors from bothering him so often. He hadn't wanted to but hadn't thought of a good reason to refuse.

Cassandra held out her arms. "It's fine. Just hold me now."

Her husband-to-be was next to her in an instant. He took the spot beside her and embraced her. Othryoneus rocked her to sleep.

***

Before the sun rose on the second day, all family members and the most-trusted servants gathered at the main gate. Hecuba arranged her daughters, Hector's wife, and Helen behind herself, in front of the two horse-drawn wagons with Hector's and Polydorus' bodies. Priam and the royal sons stood behind the carts, while the servants took up the rear.

Each woman but the Queen carried a brightly colored vase filled with libations. In Hecuba's hands, she held a giant torch a servant lit for her. The King and his sons had the deceased's favorite weapons, toys, and trinkets. Every servant brought a bit of food or cloth, whatever they had of worth.

Once ensured of everyone's correct place, the Queen went to the front of the group. In an emotion-drenched voice, Hecuba started the prayer meant to usher the dead safely to the Underworld. A third of the way through the prayer, Cassandra and her sisters and Andromache joined in (Helen's lips moved, yet no sound came), and Hecuba marched forward. The King, his sons, and servants remained silent.

The group continued along the main road. When they came to the first crossroads, Hecuba turned left. She aimed them all toward the highest cliff overlooking the ocean. There, much like in Athens, Hector's and Polydorus' bodies would be burned on a pyre. Once ash, they'd be collected into specially crafted jars and placed alongside their ancestors in the royal burial grounds.

The journey was short, but it seemed an eternity before they reached the prepared pyres. Cassandra, her sisters, and Andromache each took turns dancing around the pyres as they spilled their libations, all while they continued to chant. Even Helen did her part, though not with as much heart as the others.

Once they'd finished, the men put the dead's possessions around the pyres. Afterward, Priam, Paris, Deiphobus, Polites, and Helenus placed each of the bodies on a pyre. Then, with quick, deft hands, the King slit the throats of the four horses who'd hauled the wagons. He added a prayer of his own before he nodded at Hecuba. The Queen lit each pyre and tossed the torch over the cliff. The bodies burned brightly.

The servants tossed their tokens into the fires. When done, the King stood before the group, his back to the pyres. He spoke of his sons, and the delight they'd given him. He wished for the great judges to look kindly upon them, then stepped aside for Hecuba.

The Queen's words were hard to understand through her tears. Before she'd gotten far, she collapsed to the ground in a hysterical fit. Priam ran to her side and pulled her into the group; his words soothed her.

A rustle went through the crowd when Helen pushed past Andromache and took the spot before the pyres. Through her black veil, her tears were clear. Whispers started but abruptly stopped when Helen spoke. Her light voice carried over the crackling of the fire as she thanked Hector for his friendship. She told her audience if not for Hector, she would have jumped into the sea years ago.

Rage and lack of sense drove Cassandra out of the crowd. How dare the Spartan whore weep as if she'd loved Hector as much as anyone in attendance? Lies! Her very presence stained Hector's memory.

"Why not do it now?" Cassandra called.

Helen jerked as if Cassandra had pinched her. Voices hissed at Cassandra to quiet and behave, but she ignored them as she neared Helen. Cassandra pointed at Hector's pyre.

"Or, if Hector meant so much to you, why don't you join him in flames?" She bent close to Helen's face. "His blood is on your hands. You're why the city he loved will fall." With a sudden burst of energy, Cassandra struck Helen across the face.

Helen's veil toppled to the ground, and she screamed.

Cassandra made to slap her again, but Helenus dragged her away from Paris' terrified wife. Around the twins, chaos ensued. People spat on Cassandra or yelled insults at her, but Cassandra no longer cared. What did anything matter when she'd lost so much, and the worst had yet to come?

Part Five

Chapter Thirty

The King berated Cassandra for hours after the funeral concluded. He told her many times how he wanted to punish her worse, but the King feared Othryoneus losing interest in her if he took it too far. Instead, he concluded his rant with a violent shake of his head and ordered Cassandra to leave his sight before he did away with her. As she went, Cassandra overheard Priam mumble how he wished the gods had spared his sons and taken her instead.

What little ground Cassandra had gained with those around her since allowing Othryoneus to court her evaporated after her actions at her brothers' funeral. Though Helen wasn't liked much more than Cassandra, the disrespect Cassandra had displayed outweighed the palace's hatred of Paris' wife. Even Helenus couldn't find it in his heart to forgive Cassandra, though he didn't glare at or insult her like many others.

Only Othryoneus remained loyal. While he didn't approve of what she'd done, Cassandra's betrothed rationalized she'd acted out of grief. He told everyone within earshot of how sorrow could turn the nicest person into a monster. His words fell on deaf ears, yet he never ceased championing her.

For the first few days after she'd attacked Helen, Cassandra stayed in bed. Othryoneus spent every moment with her she'd allow. When alone, Cassandra pondered her reason for continuing forward. Life held no purpose. Troy's fate, as well as her own, had already been sealed. Unlike those around her, she knew the outcome of the pointless war. So, why did she stay and suffer?

While much of her believed she'd die when Troy fell, no vision had ever shown Cassandra's end. A grain of hope she'd come out of the war alive existed inside Cassandra, no matter how hard she ignored it. And, though she entertained the idea, Cassandra wasn't a quitter. Hector had never tolerated it, and he'd be upset to hear she'd even allowed the thought to cross her mind. While their last years together hadn't been as grand as in the past, Cassandra had still wanted Hector's approval more than anyone else's, and the desire continued even after his death.

Plus, Cassandra couldn't abandon Othryoneus. Though she'd proven many of rumors about her, Othryoneus still spoke to and looked at Cassandra as if he couldn't believe he'd won her affection. His love was a blessing Cassandra would never take for granted.

Finally, Cassandra shed her sadness. She continued as she had before her brothers' deaths, though no one cared what she and Othryoneus did when alone. Hecuba couldn't be around Cassandra without crying, and Deiphobus tried to fill the void Hector's passing had made for Helen.

The palace had just regained a semblance of normalcy when tragedy struck again. Against orders, Paris, to avenge his brothers' murders, sought out the Greek who'd caused his family such misery. The warrior, an invulnerable demigod named Achilles, met the Trojan prince in combat. Sources claimed what skill Paris lacked, he made up for with his determination. The two battled for much longer than any other Trojan had with Achilles.

With sheer luck, Paris struck the demigod in his one weak spot: his ankle. With the Greek's invulnerability suddenly gone, Paris took the advantage to hit Achilles with a handful of fatal blows. But he didn't kill the demigod outright, and Achilles managed to murder the prince before his last breath left him.

The King forbid Cassandra from attending Paris' funeral. Though Cassandra hated her father for his cruelty, she didn't argue. She'd resolved herself to causing her family as little distress as possible. So, she spent the three days with Othryoneus in prayer.

***

Hecuba didn't fully recover from Paris' death. She wondered the palace at odd hours, always in a state of semi-dress. Priam sent for doctor after doctor, but none could find a treatment to cure the Queen's woes. All told the King she needed rest and support, yet the entire palace could see the King was at his wit's end.

Many thought Priam withdrew from his wife and her problems to protect his sanity. Days would pass when he didn't speak or even look upon Hecuba. Without her love, the Queen wilted.

The only time Hecuba gained a firm grasp on reality was when Creusa visited. Days before Paris' death, Creusa had announced her pregnancy. Now, for hours, the Queen would sit with her daughter and discuss every aspect of motherhood. Over the weeks that followed, Creusa's condition became more noticeable, and Hecuba delighted in cooing and talking to her developing grandchild.

All at once, the Queen's abnormal actions ceased, but her thoughts still seemed distant. Priam took to spending a few moments with Hecuba, yet nowhere near what he used to. Her presence seemed to cause him more pain than joy.

As their love faded, both their ages caught up with the King and Queen. All their hair grayed, and wrinkles appeared that hadn't been visible over the summer. Both lost more weight than they could afford.

Helen didn't fare much better than the Queen, though her beauty didn't disappear. In her depression, her beauty flourished. Though she didn't encourage them, Deiphobus and Helenus competed for Helen's attention. They bickered and fought like foolish little boys, and Cassandra often told them so. Even the King called out his sons' poor behavior, but the princes wouldn't stop.

One way or another, one of them would become Helen's new husband.

***

A day in mid-winter, Cassandra sat in the garden. She wore a heavy wool peplos and himation, but neither kept away the chill of the day. Though she dreaded growing sick, Cassandra couldn't bring herself to return to the warmth of the palace.

The Queen had taken up a new project: she wanted a nursery prepared for when Creusa gave birth (Hecuba had already decided her daughter would have her child at the palace, no matter what anyone else thought). The old nursery held too many memories, and the Queen wouldn't be able to accurately devote her attention to her grandchild if surrounded by the past. Priam's advisors complained about the cost, but the King waved away their concerns. For the first time in weeks, Hecuba had regained a bit of her vigor, and Priam looked at her with a hint of his previous feelings for her.

Hecuba tore about the palace like a woman possessed. She hurled endless questions at every person she came across. The Queen wouldn't wait for answers and grew impatient when her inquiries hung in the air.

On top of Hecuba's hectic behavior, Deiphobus' and Helenus' rivalry had grown to ridiculous heights. They'd taken to playing cruel tricks on each other, ones that if a little detail was off, could seriously hurt the other. It'd gotten to the point Priam had demanded Helen choose which brother she wanted, though she'd proclaimed she didn't care for either of them. Regardless, if she didn't pick soon, the King would cast her out of the palace and leave her to the mercy of Troy's streets.

Like Hecuba weeks prior, Helen wandered the palace as she moaned about her fate. She cursed everyone she passed. On two occasions, she'd gotten drunk and stumbled around the woods until she passed out.

Creusa tried to get Helen involved with her pregnancy, but Helen only ever talked about the daughter she'd left in Sparta. And once she got started, her rants would end with her accusing everyone in the immediate area of conspiring against her. The third, and last, time Creusa spent with Helen, the former queen grew so enraged she threw a vase. Shards of glass nicked Creusa's arm, and the King prohibited Helen from being around his daughter.

So, though the tips of her fingers had gone numb, Cassandra relished in the rare moment of calm she'd managed to steal. Her mind drifted, settled on no topic for too long. With lazy interest, she watched the birds search for food and debris to improve their nests.

"What are you doing out here?" a voice called; drew Cassandra from her pleasant haze.

She turned and smiled as Othryoneus approached. "Taking in the fresh air."

Her husband-to-be sat next to her and hugged her. "But you'll catch your death out here."

Cassandra almost laughed. To die from an illness instead of the Greeks ransacking Troy. Would the Fates be so absurd?

"I'm fine." She kissed Othryoneus. "Your concern is welcomed, though."

Othryoneus studied her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I just needed have a moment alone. The palace is...too crowded."

Othryoneus nodded. "I've found it quite suffocating myself at times. That's why I think after I return, and we marry, we should move to Cabesos. It'll be better for the both us."

"After you return?"

"Your father has ordered me to lead an assault on the Greeks."

"But...he has generals."

Othryoneus chuckled. "Have you forgotten I employed myself as one when I came to court you?"

In truth, it had slipped Cassandra's mind. When Othryoneus had first arrived, Priam had had more than enough generals to leave Cassandra's betrothed alone. But morale had dropped after Hector's and Paris' deaths, and many generals had either fled or perished in battle. The King now grasped at straws and had even placed lowly Trojan soldiers in leadership positions.

Distress enclosed Cassandra's heart. She gripped Othryoneus' hand. "You can't leave me."

Othryoneus tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Love, I promise it won't be for too long. And the King's ensured me after this mission, he'll grant me leave from the rest of the war. In no time, we'll be able to start our life."

"B-but what if you don't come home?"

Her husband-to-be kissed her then, with such passion he stole Cassandra's breath. She sensed every bit of his love for her. "Nothing will keep me from you," he whispered when they pulled apart.

Cassandra scolded his brash words as she snuggled closer to him. But she prayed he spoke the truth, that the gods who'd forsaken her for so long would grant her this one wish.

Chapter Thirty-One

Time slowed in Othryoneus' absence. Without him, Cassandra had no one to speak to. She often stood on the fringe of a room and watched her family. When she commented or asked a question, her voice went unheard. The only one to take notice of Cassandra was Polyxena, but just to glare. Depression taunted Cassandra, but she refused to succumb to it. Othryoneus wouldn't want her to.

To fight boredom, Cassandra returned to the habits that had filled her days for years. Though now she went about her devotions with determination and even managed to offer a prayer to Apollo and Hermes every so often. She hadn't forgiven them yet but felt she'd taken a substantial first step.

Once spring set in, Cassandra often took trips to Troy to visit the various temples with the idea the priests and priestesses could aid her cause, not that she told them of her reasons. They welcomed her, and her extensive knowledge delighted them. One priestess remarked that Cassandra might have missed her true calling.

It seemed her increase of prayers brought about more prophecies. They plagued her throughout the day, though she experienced the bulk of them at night. Cassandra saw ones she'd seen for years: the horse covered in eyes, Polyxena's beating, Troy engulfed in flames. But she had many new ones; most about the gods' involvement with the war.

The vast amount of their deeds shocked Cassandra. Yes, she'd known they'd taken a personal interest in the war, but she hadn't realized to what extent. The fighting affected the gods worse than the mortals, and from what Cassandra witnessed, she dreaded the civil war would lead to a cosmic battle reminiscent of the Titanomachy.

All could end quite peacefully, for the gods and mortals, if Zeus chose a side. But the God King refused. A vision hinted that Hera kept him from acting, but why Zeus would allow his wife to cow him, Cassandra didn't understand.

While Cassandra worshipped him, in her heart, she cursed the Olympian for his cowardliness.

***

Helen never decided between Deiphobus and Helenus. She bawled or went into a screaming fit whenever the King brought it up. With Helen's lack of decision, the brothers' rivalry spiraled out of control, and many people got hurt in the crossfire.

To settle the feud, Priam forced his sons to compete in three physical tests to win her hand. All the palace was ordered to partake in the spectacle, more to humiliate Helen, Cassandra thought, than to make it harder for her brothers to cheat. The palace itself seemed to sigh in relief when the King made his announcement.

The day of the competition dawned bright and warm. Deiphobus and Helenus met before the horse stables, shook hands as the King instructed, then refused to look at each other. Polyxena dragged Helen to the center of the constructed arena where the brothers would fight for her. Helen tried to bolt away, and Polyxena had to loop her arm around the older woman's waist to hold her in place. Helen sobbed, but no one paid her any attention.

The first test compared the brothers' archery abilities. Each had to knock as many cloth balls out of the air as possible in a set time-frame. Both displayed superior talent, but Deiphobus won nineteen to sixteen.

Then came the racing portion. Though Deiphobus had sturdier legs, Helenus' were lengthier. And all his time being a messenger for the military paid off. With ease, he left his older brother in the dust.

Right after the race, the two had to wrestle. Helenus had added considerable bulk to his form over the years, but he looked small beside his brother. Cassandra's twin put up a good struggle, but in the end, Deiphobus pinned him and won Helen.

Priam had intended for the wedding ceremony to take place right after the competition, but just as Deiphobus was declared the winner, Creusa cried out. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and bent forward. Aeneas scooped his wife into his arms and ran with her to the palace. Hecuba trailed after them, while the King called for the doctor and midwife and ordered the servants and slaves back to their duties.

The area cleared as everyone responded to Priam's demands. Most of the family returned to the palace. Helen took the opportunity to fade into the shadowed forest. Deiphobus noticed and followed. Helenus watched the pair leave; his face red as tears streamed from his eyes.

Cassandra touched her twin's arm. "You can do much better than her."

Helenus jerked away, and, without a glance or comment, fled for the palace. Cassandra sighed. She considered going after him but decided against it. Instead, she walked the grounds as she waited for news of Creusa's condition.

***

Though Creusa had gone into labor two months early, her son's birth went as smoothly as one could hope. By nightfall, Aeneas declared for all to hear the news of his firstborn. Cries of good cheer echoed all over the palace, and that night everyone drank to the boy's health.

Creusa and Aeneas named their son Ascanius, after Aeneas' father's best friend. The first Ascanius had died protecting Aeneas from a murderous thief. Priam grumbled about the name choice (he thought by now one of his grandsons should bear his name), but the King forgot his grievance once he held his infant grandson.

In the following days, Creusa healed in peace while the Queen carried her grandson all over. She'd stop anyone to remark about his excellent coloring or the intelligence in his pale brown eyes. Hecuba even allowed Cassandra to hold Ascanius, though never with another soul nearby.

Ascanius' arrival brought much-needed pleasure. Vitality leeched back into the King and Queen, and they moved as if decades younger. Deiphobus and Helenus buried their bruised feelings and formed an uneasy truce. No one went out of their way to snub Cassandra, though she still wanted for conversation. Only Helen kept to her ways, much to Deiphobus' disappointment.

***

Three weeks after Ascanius' birth, Deiphobus' and Helen's wedding date was set. Priam took the opportunity to invite all he could. For the first time in years, Cassandra's older sister Ilione came to the palace. Since Othryoneus' departure, Cassandra looked forward to the future. Unlike the rest of their family, Ilione held no hard feelings toward Cassandra, though she'd heard all about her younger sister's unsavory activities. Cassandra knew Ilione would chastise her past behavior, but she wouldn't linger on it.

Much to Cassandra's joy, the King forbade her from attending the wedding ceremony and the party afterward. She laughed when her father broke the news to her and danced out of the room before Priam could yell about her reaction. She hid for the rest of the day, and lucky she did. Deiphobus scoured the building for her with the intention to wring her neck.

***

Ilione spent the entire day before the wedding with Cassandra. Hecuba and Polyxena complained, but Ilione ignored them. Before Ilione had married King Polymestor and moved to Thrace, she'd been one of Cassandra's trusted confidants. Like Hector, Ilione had seemed more Cassandra's parent than a sibling, and Cassandra had missed her sister so much after she'd left that Cassandra had been sick for weeks.

Time and distance had changed the sisters, but their bond hadn't. After they prayed at the gravesites of their brothers (a grim task Ilione performed every morning of her visit), they talked and joked like before. Cassandra even revealed the extent of her hatred for Helen and the way their family treated her. Ilione promised to speak with everyone, but the way her sister's gaze bolted away told Cassandra Ilione already had. And, unsurprising to Cassandra, the responses Ilione had received hadn't pleased her sister.

When dusk settled, the sisters parted ways. Before they did, Ilione held Cassandra tight and swore her lot would improve. Cassandra thanked her, kissed her sister's cheek, and then the two went to bed.

Late that night, an insistent pounding woke Cassandra from a rare night of peaceful sleep. She sat upright, and, sure the Greeks had taken Troy and had come for her, her left hand sought a weapon. She wailed when she found none.

Then the pounding came again and drew Cassandra's focus to her bedchamber door. It took another heart-racing moment for her to realize nothing as terrible as Troy destruction took place. Only a rude visitor had come to bother her.

Cassandra slid out of bed and hobbled over to the door. With a sigh, she opened the door. "There better be a good reason for this."

The figure outside her door raised its head, and the light from the fireplace illuminated Helen's grief-stricken face. Cassandra groaned. She made to close the door, but in a burst of speed Helen stepped into Cassandra's bedchamber; drove Cassandra back.

"I'm getting a guardsman." Cassandra tried to move past Helen.

Helen had a hand behind her back and brought it forward. She held a dagger that had belonged to Hector. Cassandra's footsteps ceased, and her eyes widened.

"Why do you have that?"

Helen thrust her hand forward, and Cassandra flinched. But no pain followed the gesture, and when she looked, she found the former queen merely displayed the weapon for Cassandra. "Plunge this into my heart. Do away with me."

"W-what?"

"I want to die, and you're the only one who'll fulfill my wish."

The offer tempted Cassandra. How many ways had she killed Helen in her daydreams? How often had she prayed to the gods to stop Helen's heart or strike her down with lightning? And it wouldn't be hard to stage the murder to make it look like a servant had done it. Yes, people would suspect Cassandra, but they'd never trace it back to her.

But the former queen didn't deserve a quick end. Out of anyone, she needed to suffer the most. Without her, Hector, Polydorus, and Paris would still be alive.

Cassandra shook her head. "No."

Rage contorted Helen's features. "Why not?"

"There are several reasons." Cassandra plucked the dagger from Helen's hand and tossed it into the fireplace. "But the biggest one is because you want it."

Helen shrieked. She clawed at Cassandra's face, but the former queen didn't eat much anymore and had lost much of her muscle mass, and Cassandra fought her off with ease. She pushed the older woman out of her bedchamber and slammed the door shut. Cassandra locked it, and Helen kicked and punched the wood.

The door wouldn't budge, and Helen's actions stopped. She cried and begged for mercy, but Cassandra tuned her out. She returned to bed, buried her head under her pillows and blankets, and fell asleep.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Spring drifted into summer, and with the better weather came Polyxena's first suitors. She acted worse than Cassandra had. Sometimes her surly attitude drove the men away just after they met the princess. Those that didn't bolt right away dealt with her vicious words and criticisms. No suitor visited longer than two days.

Priam punished Polyxena much like he had Cassandra, but her mood didn't improve. Hecuba came to her daughter's aid, claimed Polyxena needed more time to cope with her brothers' deaths. The King didn't believe her, and the pair fought constantly. And what little ground Priam and his wife had gained in repairing their relationship eroded.

***

A month and a half into Deiphobus' and Helen's marriage, a rumor spread like wildfire within the palace, one that would have ended Helen's life if proof had been discovered. Supposedly, a short time before their wedding, Deiphobus had made Helen pregnant. When she'd suspected her condition, she'd sought out an herbalist, and had followed the woman's orders to cause a miscarry.

Helen's behavior neither confirmed nor denied the rumor, but from the cloud of despair over Deiphobus, Cassandra knew he had a good reason to believe it. If he found any clue, he never told anyone, yet the yearning he'd had for Helen before their wedding disappeared from his gaze. From what Cassandra heard, her brother's visits to the servants' quarters increased tenfold.

Cassandra's own misery grew around this time. Othryoneus should have returned at the end of spring, but unforeseen circumstances had delayed him. Reports came that the earliest he'd be by her side was late summer but more likely in mid-fall.

She increased her devotions and overanalyzed every vision she had. Cassandra sought the wisdom of the priests and priestesses, but none could offer her the reassurance she craved. She walked and talked as if in a frightened frenzy, and the servants and slaves refused to be unaccompanied with her.

The King disliked her conduct but didn't scold her too often. Cassandra knew he worried about her becoming like Helen, and he couldn't stand the thought of another insane woman haunting the palace. Plus, Priam didn't want to risk making her undesirable to Othryoneus.

Cassandra only stilled her neurotic mannerisms when Creusa visited with Ascanius. Though no one trusted Cassandra alone with the infant, her sister allowed Cassandra to play with her son if she or Hecuba were nearby. Ascanius' quick, light laugh and insatiable curiosity soothed Cassandra's frayed nerves and brought her, her only fun. She loved her nephew with every beat of her heart and lavished on him all the attention she'd wanted to give to Polydorus.

She tried to rebuild her relationship with Creusa. A vision not long after Creusa had given birth had told Cassandra Ascanius would survive the fall of Troy but only due to Creusa sacrificing herself. While it pained Cassandra, she'd grown to accept her sister's fate, and she didn't want her remaining time with Creusa to continue as it was. Creusa treated Cassandra better, but nothing reminiscent of their relationship years prior.

Every so often, Helenus would join Cassandra as she tended to Ascanius. The twins didn't talk to each other, and Helenus would leave whenever Cassandra got too close, but his brief company thrilled Cassandra nonetheless. When he'd left her after losing to Deiphobus, she'd feared he'd never associate with her again. But now, though slow going, Helenus showed her he wanted her more involved in his life.

***

The King and Queen suffered another significant loss when Agamemnon, the brother of Helen's first husband, killed their sons Antiphus and Hipponous in an ambush close to the walls of Troy. Unfortunately, their sons' bodies were so decimated by the Greeks they couldn't be retrieved for burial. All of Troy cried in outrage when they heard of the Greeks deplorable actions.

Priam, Hecuba, and their oldest children mourned Antiphus and Hipponous the hardest. Cassandra, Helenus, and their younger siblings had never gotten close to their older brothers. Unlike Hector, once Antiphus and Hipponous had joined the military, they'd stayed with the army; only came home often enough to let their family know they still lived. They'd loved their family but had found true enjoyment as soldiers.

Despite the lack of bodies, the family had a service, though this time Helen was uninvited instead of Cassandra. Only Creusa and Hecuba cried. Everyone else's eyes reddened, but their other recent loses had stolen all their tears. The grim affair didn't last long, and that night the palace remained dark.

***

Cassandra's world took another considerable turn an evening in late summer. She'd just sang Ascanius to sleep and passed the infant over to his mother when a vision slammed into her. She collapsed as her surroundings shifted.

She smelt the sea and heard the flap of sails, but couldn't see anything but a large, sunburned man before her. He had his huge hands wrapped around her neck and squeezed so hard he crushed her windpipe. In moments, he'd kill her.

The man taunted and laughed. As she lost oxygen, she found it harder and harder to understand what he yelled at her. Just before she lost consciousness, she heard, "Weak...Othryoneus."

Cassandra returned to herself, now crumpled on the floor. Creusa hovered over her, and she cried for help when she noticed her sister woke. Ascanius stirred and wailed. His mother and Cassandra ignored him.

When help came, they asked Cassandra a series of questions she couldn't answer. She sat frozen as Othryoneus' death replayed in her mind. Creusa explained the best she could, and the doctor concluded stress had overtaken her. He prescribed a good night's sleep and plenty of water, and she'd be fine.

A guardsman carried Cassandra to her bedchamber, and her two handmaidens readied her for rest. Cassandra neither hindered nor assisted their efforts. They murmured half-hearted reassurances Cassandra didn't process. Then the handmaidens put her to bed and left.

Though not tired, Cassandra willed herself to sleep. Currently, she existed in a nightmare. If Cassandra slept, she'd wake to reality. She wouldn't have had a vision. Othryoneus wouldn't be slated to die.

Cassandra repeated those thoughts until her nerves relaxed. Sudden exhaustion overtook her, and her eyes closed. She embraced the darkness.

The next morning dawned bright and crisp--too perfect a day for her nightmare to be real. Cassandra stretched as she decided her plans for the day. She wanted to avoid prayers for a while. She'd concluded they'd caused her anxiety, and she sought to prevent another mishap.

Maybe she'd convince Creusa to let her take Ascanius to the garden. The infant seemed to appreciate flowers as much as Cassandra did.

Cassandra swung her leg over the side of her bed, and the prophecy from before overtook her again. Her hope it'd all been a nightmare vanished. She fell back against her blankets and curled into a ball once the vision finished. Tears drenched her face. Her handmaidens came then, and she ordered them away.

As she cried, she prayed for death. All that had made her happy had been ripped away from her. She didn't understand what she'd done to make the Fates craft only misery for her, but clearly, no higher power cared to cease their battering.

No one killed her, and Cassandra bemoaned the cosmos and everything in it.

***

For days, she didn't leave her bed or eat, and only drank because servants forced her to. By the end of the first day, she'd taken to fantasizing about Othryoneus' return, their wedding, and him rescuing her from her miserableness in Troy. At first, Cassandra did it to lessen the pain, but as time wore on, Cassandra's belief in the dreams increased. She talked as if Othryoneus were beside her, and even spoke to the children she envisioned they'd have.

Occasionally, Cassandra's rationality would pull her away from her delusions. But never for long. Whenever it happened, she wrapped her fantasies tighter around herself until her sense quieted.

Four days after her second vision, Hecuba had Cassandra's door busted open. The Queen charged into the room and looked both downhearted and ready to argue. Her expression turned to one of pity when she saw Cassandra sitting in the middle of her bed.

"Oh, my little honeycomb." Hecuba gathered Cassandra into her arms. "Your love for him is so great you know deep down, don't you?"

"My love for whom? Othryoneus? Has he come back to me?"

Hecuba pulled away and studied her daughter. Her mouth pursed. "Y-you don't know."

In the far reaches of Cassandra's mind, awareness of what her mother spoke of sparked, but not enough to draw her full attention. She frowned. "What?"

"Othryoneus...He was killed."

The absurdity of the statement drew a laugh from Cassandra. "Really? Is that the sort of joke you're going to play on me? It's not very nice, but I forgive you." She shifted position to stretch out a leg muscle. "Now where is Othryoneus? Did he put you up to this?"

The Queen's hand fluttered to the bottom of her throat. "Cassandra, why--No one would make light of this situation, especially not me."

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "But he can't be dead. He promised he'd return."

"I wish he had. You two--I was so glad you were finally happy."

Cassandra chuckled again. "I'm still happier than I've ever been. And it'll only get better once Othryoneus and I--"

Hecuba slapped Cassandra across the face. Before Cassandra registered the assault, Hecuba gripped Cassandra's shoulder. She shook her daughter.

"He's dead. I'm so sorry, but he is. And no amount of pretending will change that."

Cassandra fought it, but her sanity clung to her mother's words. Its strength grew until it crushed the fantasy she'd created. The disturbing truth slammed into her, and she fell against the Queen.

"But he promised," she whispered, then burst into tears.

Hecuba hugged her again. She didn't say anything, didn't make empty declarations. She just held Cassandra as her heart shattered for the second time.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Cassandra's existence changed. Her devotions stopped, as did her trips to Troy to visit the priests and priestesses. Much like Helen, she shuffled around the palace, though in a confused daze instead of a hostile outrage. Events and days jumbled together. One moment she'd be listening to Hecuba babbling about Ascanius and the next she'd be sitting in the garden, the time of day and her clothing different. Her attention would either linger for too long on someone or an object or not register anything at all.

Her visions didn't lessen. They plagued her worse than ever before, and most nights she didn't sleep. When they happened during the day, Cassandra found she could dull their impact with a bit of wine. She never got drunk, but some days she was far from sober.

As an afterthought, she noticed most people's attitudes about her had shifted. Instead of overlooking her, they went out of their way to talk to her. Cassandra didn't know if she responded, and if she did, what she said. But she didn't mind their company; it brought her a fraction of pleasure.

Only the King, Polyxena, and Helen treated her the same. Priam and Polyxena acted disgusted whenever they happened upon her, and Helen did her best to avoid Cassandra. When she couldn't, she glared at Cassandra or chuckled about the princess' condition. Once, she teased Cassandra so loudly she drew the attention of Deiphobus. He screeched at his wife, apologized to Cassandra, and shoved Helen from the room. Helen howled like a wolf as she left.

Helenus took to ensuring Cassandra looked after her daily needs. He brought her food when she'd spent the day meandering and couldn't remember where she'd gone. He always had a blanket on him in case he came across her outside, for she had the habit of staying in the cold for half the day in nothing more than a thin peplos better suited for mid-summer.

For the twins' twenty-sixth birthday, Hecuba wanted to throw a large party like the one she'd orchestrated nine years prior. She claimed it'd be the very thing to pull Cassandra from her doldrums. Helenus fought the idea, didn't think Cassandra could handle it. The pair debated until the King denied the plan. In retaliation, the Queen refused to speak to anyone for a week.

***

On the battlefield, Helenus and Deiphobus were a fearsome force. They moved in perfect unison and led many successful sieges against the Greeks. Their bravery and skill brought more kindness from the gods, and the Trojans morale improved as the scales tipped in their favor.

At home, the brothers barely tolerated each other. They didn't go out of their way to snub the other, but they didn't talk much nor made eye contact. And they didn't occupy the same room if Helen was present.

But their shaky relationship changed when Deiphobus' and Helen's contempt for each other grew tenfold. It started with them trading harsh insults that made those that overheard wince and shuffle away in uncomfortable silence. Then the pair's words turned to unintelligible screams that echoed throughout the palace.

After several complaints, the King hauled the two before him and demanded they settle their feud. Neither complied. As a solution, Priam sent Deiphobus on several missions that kept him away for a few months. When Hecuba protested, the King told her time apart would make the young couple appreciate each other, and she couldn't argue with her husband's logic.

In Deiphobus' absence, Helenus trailed Helen as he had before she'd married Deiphobus, and he catered to her like he did Cassandra. In response, Helen spoke to Helenus no better than she did her husband. Yet she never demanded he leave her alone. More than once, she even appeared gladdened by his company.

Despite his efforts to keep anything unpleasant from Cassandra, Helenus took to airing his grievances about Deiphobus to his twin. She let him babble without interruption, though she didn't listen. A part of Cassandra wanted to, wanted to stop the hatred for Deiphobus she saw brewing inside Helenus, but the desire to save her brother could never overcome her mind-fog.

***

Deiphobus returned home days after his first wedding anniversary. The eagerness in which he tore through the palace in search of his wife surprised all who spotted him. Hesitant hope filled the halls. Had the King been right? Had time apart been the fix they had needed?

Helen sat outside in the courtyard with Cassandra and Helenus. Since Deiphobus' departure and Helenus' increased company, the former queen had ceased her insistent teasing of Cassandra. She still glared at the younger woman when Helenus turned his back, but otherwise, she treated Cassandra better than she had in years. Cassandra didn't trust Helen's change, but she had neither the energy nor focus to thoroughly examine the former queen's reasons.

Deiphobus burst into the courtyard and beamed when his eyes settled on his wife, who sat next to Helenus on a large couch with legs carved to resemble lions' heads. He ran to Helen with open arms. He scooped her into his embrace and rained kisses on her face. Helen accepted his affection but didn't reciprocate.

Helenus watched the display, and his top lip curled. Cassandra combed her brain for the right words to ease her twin's rising frustration. He needn't get involved where he didn't belong and cause more problems. But Cassandra couldn't find the thoughts she required and remained silent.

"Have you missed me?" Deiphobus asked his wife.

Helen stepped out of his hold. She frowned. "I prayed every day for your demise."

Her blunt cruelty stunned everyone present. Even Helenus' odious expression faltered.

Deiphobus' face reddened. He barked a laugh, and a nearby servant jumped. "Some fine thanks." He shook his head. "But what else can be expected from an ungrateful tramp?"

In a flash, Helenus sprang from his couch. He slammed a fist into Deiphobus' chin, and Deiphobus stumbled back. Deiphobus recovered fast and tackled his younger brother. The two fell to the ground as they punched, bit, and pinched each other.

The sudden violence snapped Cassandra back to her senses. She darted for brothers without a plan but knew she had to act nonetheless. She hadn't gotten far when Helen wrapped a hand around her wrist and stopped her.

"No, let them kill each other."

Cassandra slapped at Helen's fingers. "You're a demon!"

Helen smiled and tightened her hold on Cassandra. "All of you deserve death."

Cassandra abandoned her efforts for freedom and pointed at the servant Deiphobus had startled. "Get help. Now!"

As the man shouted for the guardsmen, he darted into the palace. The brothers continued their fight; both looked ready to tear the other's throat out. In the short time it took the servant to retrieve assistance, blood coated much of Helenus' and Deiphobus' faces. Cuts and scrapes littered their exposed skin.

Helen egged both on.

Two guardsmen returned with the servant. They tore the princes apart and dragged each to the one side of the courtyard. The brothers struggled against the guardsmen's hold but couldn't shake them. They settled on hurling verbal abuses at each other.

Shortly after the guardsmen's arrival, the King appeared. He marched onto the scene, his head held high and fury blazing in his eyes. "Enough," he said once he stood in the between his sons.

Helenus and Deiphobus ceased quarreling.

Priam pegged each with a searing glare. "What is the meaning of this nonsense?"

Deiphobus dropped his head, but Helenus' chest puffed out. He pointed at his brother. "He insulted his wife."

The King sighed and glanced at Helen, who'd yet to release Cassandra. "When will you not be the center of trouble?" he asked but didn't wait for an answer. He looked at Helenus. "How your brother speaks to his wife is none of your concern."

Helenus scowled. "He doesn't love her like I do."

Priam rubbed his temples. "But that isn't valid--"

"Let me be her husband."

Helenus' offer drew a gasp from Cassandra. "No," she cried just as Helen did.

The King ignored both women. "Your brother won her fairly."

"Let us compete again."

Deiphobus sneered. "You'll lose a second time."

"There won't be another pitiful contest," the King said. His powerful voice reverberated throughout the courtyard. "This feud ends now." He pointed at his sons. "I won't hesitate to banish you both if you engage in this childish behavior again." Priam's attention bored into Deiphobus. "And learn to handle your wife. You wanted her so badly you'll have her until one of you dies."

Helen shrieked a curse at the King and pushed Cassandra away. She spun on her heel and hurried for the palace. Only Cassandra and the servant watched her leave.

After a moment, Priam asked, "Do I make myself clear?"

Helenus and Deiphobus grumbled their responses.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes," both replied.

The King nodded at the guardsmen. "Escort my sons to their bedchambers. They need a night to cool off."

The guardsmen bowed and hauled the princes from the courtyard. The King rubbed his eyes and muttered under his breath. He stopped when he caught sight of Cassandra.

"Make yourself useful somewhere else."

Cassandra wouldn't abandon her to hope to save Helenus from his misguided feelings and remained rooted in place. "Why not banish Helen? She's the root cause of all the bad that's happened."

Priam's eyes widened, then he glowered. "You're not to question my wisdom."

"Your decision holds no wisdom."

"Says the woman without the sense to differentiate between days."

Her father's jab stung, but Cassandra didn't back down. "If she stays, Helenus and Deiphobus will continue to fight. And Helen wants it. She'd love it if they--"

"Silence!"

Cassandra closed her mouth.

"This matter is closed. Say one more word, and I'll have the flesh flayed from your back."

Sickening anger pooled in Cassandra's stomach, and she left the courtyard without a dismissal.

***

Cassandra didn't sleep that night. She sat in a chair before her fireplace as she thought about the events from earlier. Her confusion hadn't returned, and Cassandra had yet to decide if its absence gladdened her or not. Existence had been more straightforward when she'd foregone in-depth analysis. On a superficial level, Cassandra had achieved peace.

But it hadn't been real. The misery and uncertainty she felt, that was genuine emotion. Cassandra despised them, yet to know she could still feel them brought bittersweet comfort. The gods had tried to break her again, but she'd endured.

If Cassandra couldn't have Othryoneus, at least she was resilient, for all it was worth.

Toward the middle of the night, a soft knock on her door pulled Cassandra's gaze from the fireplace. She hesitated, worried Helen visited. But the last time the former queen had, she'd banged on the door so it couldn't be her.

"Come in," Cassandra finally called.

The door opened, and Helenus slipped into the room. He wore traveling clothes and had a full pack slung over his right shoulder. "Did I wake you?"

Cassandra shifted her chair until she faced her brother. "No." She eyed him. "Where are going?"

"If Father won't grant me Helen's hand, I'm going to proposition the gods."

"There are plenty of temples in the city."

"I want to capture Zeus' attention, and he won't ignore me if I seek him on Mount Ida."

Cassandra chuckled. "The gods won't listen to you no matter where you go."

"I have to try."

Cassandra stood and went to her brother. She cupped his coarse cheek, swollen from his fight with Deiphobus. "Why can't you forget Helen? She doesn't love you; doesn't want to be here."

Helenus removed her fingers. "Only because she's unhappy right now, but I know she cares for me, deep down. If I could marry her, I'd take her somewhere far from this terrible war, and she'd improve."

Cassandra shook her head. She wanted to argue but knew nothing she said would convince Helenus otherwise. Helen had woven an impenetrable spell of lust around Helenus. Cassandra didn't think even death would destroy it.

"I wish you wouldn't leave," she said.

"You could always come with me. You need--The palace isn't a good place for you, either."

The offer enticed. What sort of life could Cassandra have if she remained in Troy? Yes, much of her family now spent time with her, but how long would it last? They only did it out of pity. When the next tragedy happened, they'd forget all about her.

But she knew nothing outside of the palace. Cassandra had no skills besides pruning flowers and praying to uncaring gods. She'd die in a matter of weeks, even with Helenus beside her. Plus, she couldn't abandon those she loved before they were ripped away from her.

"I can't."

Helenus grimaced, yet didn't press the issue. He hugged her tight. "I love you."

Cassandra cried. "I love you, too."

Her twin blanched. "Oh, don't. I'll come back. I swear it on--"

Cassandra clamped her hand over his mouth. "No, don't make any promises."

Helenus nodded, and she dropped her hand. He frowned. "Should I--I want to say--It doesn't seem right--"

Cassandra kissed his cheek. "Just go."

Her brother hugged her again, then left.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Late one afternoon, days before Cassandra's twenty-seventh birthday, loud cheering woke her from her nap. For months, she'd taken to sleeping most the day away. When she slept, she couldn't dwell on Helenus' death (shortly after scaling Mount Ida, Greeks found and tortured him until he perished), and she couldn't fret over her visions.

Cassandra rose from bed, put on sandals, and left her bedchamber. She searched the palace for a friendly face. While she heard many voices, she didn't come across anyone until she found her mother and Polyxena outside the throne room. They talked quick and with exaggerated hand movements. And odd enough, Cassandra thought both glowed with a faint purple tint.

She rubbed her face. It had to be a trick of the light. Or she hadn't sufficiently shaken sleep yet.

Cassandra stepped close to the Queen. "What's going on?"

Polyxena stopped mid-sentence, glared, then hurried off. Hecuba sighed but turned to Cassandra. A smile replaced her frustrated frown, and Cassandra couldn't help but see her mother's eyes flash with a purple spark.

"Good news! We've won."

Cassandra's mind still lingered on the strangeness of the color she noticed. "Won what?"

The Queen chuckled, a mad sound that twisted Cassandra's stomach. "Why, what else? The war."

Cassandra shook her head. Her mother lied or was mistaken. To date, all her visions had come to pass. Cassandra had no reason to believe the prophecies that hadn't yet wouldn't happen one day. But that couldn't be true if the Greeks had conceded.

"How?"

The purple sheen in her mother's gaze intensified. "The Greeks just gave up."

"Just...gave up?"

"And to congratulate our victory, they gave us a giant horse statue. It's of wood, though, from what I've heard, that doesn't diminish its grandeur."

Cassandra recalled the vision with the horse with eyes all over its body and Trojans dancing around it. She couldn't imagine the Greeks gifting Troy. It had to be a rouse. But what did the eyes mean? Why would the Greeks make a horse so horrendous?

Unless the eyes weren't really on the horse, but a representation of what the horse contained? What would the Greeks put inside a horse that could lead to Troy's downfall?

The simple answer hit Cassandra. Of course. How could she have not figured it out in all these years?

Yet she couldn't have believed it in the past--she hardly did now. Then, Cassandra wouldn't have seen how the Trojans could fall for an obvious scheme, but now she could. The realization boiled her blood.

A god had magicked her people.

Hecuba waved a hand in front of Cassandra. "Hello? Are you listening?"

Cassandra spun around and raced out of the palace, toward the horse stables. She passed hordes of celebrating people; all surrounded by the faint purple glow. Cassandra wanted to shake them to common sense but couldn't afford to stop. She had to get to the city, to destroy the wooden horse.

As she saddled a horse, Cassandra remembered the rest of her vision. The Trojans hadn't heeded her warnings. When she'd tried to take matters into her own hands, her people had mocked her. So, the same would happen now. Cassandra should have learned by now, she couldn't fight fate.

But she couldn't give up. And she clung to a thin shred of hope. Her vision hadn't shown her a god was at work. Maybe if she exposed the god's deed, the spell would break. Even with Apollo's curse still on her, it'd have to work. Despite the sun god's dislike for Cassandra, he'd sided with the Trojans in this war. He wouldn't want the people he'd championed to perish so easily.

She exhausted her horse, and the beast carried her at a tremendous speed to the city. By the time she reached her destination, the sun had set. Torches lit the busy streets. People drank, sang, and danced. Every so often, a triumphant cry would sound.

At first, no one recognized the princess. When they did, most people would attempt a bow and well wishes. Some were too drunk to notice. And a few merely gaped at the unattended royal. Cassandra paid them no mind as she sought the tool of Troy's destruction.

The crowds thickened the closer she got to the main gate. The revelry startled the horse to the point it froze. Cassandra dismounted and continued on foot. She elbowed and shoved all who came too near. They either didn't care or yelled in response. Once, someone hit her back, right in the shoulder blade, but it didn't give her pause.

Finally, she reached her destination. Cassandra gasped as she took in the massive wooden horse. It stood almost as tall as the walls surrounding the city. Whoever had worked on it had put meticulous detail into the mane and hooves. The face looked as realistic as the horse Cassandra had ridden to the city. And more than enough troops to topple Troy could comfortably fit inside the structure.

Cassandra buried her awe and demanded the head general's whereabouts. A kind soldier led her to the inner ring of the crowd. He pointed at an open fire where a man danced around it with two women.

The soldier grimaced. "Not how I'd want to be found."

Cassandra waved away the soldier. "Thank you. I'll take it from here."

The soldier bowed and melted into the crowd. Cassandra marched over to the fire and gestured to the general, Polites. In time, he spotted her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his haphazard dance.

Cassandra clawed at his hand around her wrist. "No. Stop!"

Polites laughed much like the Queen had. "Isn't this grand? It's all over."

"No, it's not. The horse is a trick."

Her brother continued to sway to the beat he heard in his head. "Nothing so wonderful could be a trick."

"It is. And...Dionysus has convinced you otherwise."

Cassandra watched and waited for her words to settle in. She anticipated the purple glow to fade from Polites' eyes and from around his body. It never came. Instead, he belched in her face and skipped faster around the fire.

With a roar, Cassandra left her brother and went to the closest individuals. She told them of the Greeks deception, of Dionysus' spell. Like in her vision, no one believed her, and after some time, they started to taunt her.

After the thirty-fifth person, Cassandra gave up. She took an unoccupied ax and approached the wooden horse. Cassandra did so with stealth, unlike her vision-self had. The surrounding populace seemed too interested in wine and their good time to spot her actions, and if she moved with purpose, she could expose the Greeks' plan and save her home.

She almost stood beside the statue when a shout echoed. Before Cassandra could close the gap between her and the wooden horse, Polites was beside her. He ripped the ax from her hands, tossed it to a nearby soldier, and scolded her. Other people joined him, then their chiding turned to ridicule.

"They're inside!" Cassandra screamed over the jeers and pointed at the wooden horse. "Burn this atrocity before they kill us all."

From behind, someone pushed her. She stumbled as the crowd surged closer. Hands punched all while the mocking continued. They herded Cassandra away from the wooden horse and forced her back into the streets of the city.

Cassandra screamed her warnings, nonetheless. They stopped when two men tripped her, and she fell to the street. Cassandra didn't stay on the ground, for she knew the citizens would crush her if she did. She glared at those around her, then decided, if they wouldn't listen, they could suffer their lot.

But her family needn't bear the same destiny.

She ran for the palace.

***

Cassandra moved the fastest she ever had. Under different circumstances, she would have marveled at the feat; might have even wondered if a god aided her. Now, nothing but the thought of saving her family filled her mind.

Quicker than possible, Cassandra reached her destination. She tore through the palace halls. Every person she passed she latched onto and warned them of the terribleness to come. Cassandra begged them to leave. All shook her off and scurried away.

Much like in the city, after a few dozen people had scorned her, Cassandra took to screeching her words. She tore at her hair in irritation, and more than once clawed bits of skin out the person's arm she tried to help.

Cassandra had just finished her third loop around the palace when the King stepped before her. She grabbed the front of his chiton. "We must go. The Greeks, they're going to--"

Priam struck her across the face. He didn't hold back, and the stinging blow dropped her to the ground. He stared down at her with blatant hatred. "I'm through with this. You're a stain on my rule, and tomorrow I'll rid Troy of you."

Cassandra cradled her wounded cheek. "Tomorrow Troy won't exist."

The King's foot twitched, but he didn't kick her. "Enough! Return to your bedchamber."

Despite the threat her father presented, Cassandra couldn't stop. "The Greeks will slaughter everyone. Act now before all is lost."

"I'll have your tongue removed if you speak one more word."

Cassandra eyed the King. She wondered since he wanted so badly to win this war if he'd have believed her even without Apollo's curse or Dionysus' influence. Would he ignore her good counsel if it meant for a short while he got what he wanted? What about everyone else? Did pride, a trait Apollo couldn't change with his godly power, cloud their ability to trust her words, too? Did Dionysus' magic feed off their arrogance?

Anger flushed away her need to rescue her loved ones. Cassandra rose, turned her back on her father and all those she cared about and left the palace. She wandered the area between the palace and city until her feet couldn't carry her anymore. On their own accord, they dragged her to a small, roofless building Cassandra didn't recognize as a temple of Athena until she collapsed beside the human-sized statue. She contemplated crawling to another location but didn't have the energy.

Cassandra curled into a ball and watched the stars fill the night. Merriment still came from the city. Her fury faded, and she prayed one last time to the gods. With all her heart, she hoped she'd be proven wrong. No matter what her father had in mind for her, Cassandra didn't want her home ruined.

Long after the moon had fully risen, silence fell over Troy. Cassandra speculated if it meant the gods had heard her and had finally chosen to comply. Tentative optimism fluttered in her stomach.

Then came the first scream of thousands.

Part Six

Chapter Thirty-Five

The horrible sounds of the raid filled the rest of the night and much of the early morning. Cassandra had covered her ears and closed her eyes, yet she couldn't hide from the horrors of the attack. Vision after vision slammed into her; showed her the deaths of many of her siblings, laid bare the carnages performed on the servants, slaves, and the beautiful palace. When her father was captured as he fled to an altar of Zeus and murdered in a grisly manner, Cassandra shared the King's last painful thoughts. When a Greek general disemboweled Hecuba, it felt as if it had happened to Cassandra.

By the time three Greek soldiers, covered in light soot and splatters of enemy blood, entered the temple and spotted Cassandra, all she'd witnessed through her visions had hollowed her out, left her a husk of a human. She didn't fight as a Greek hauled her to her feet. He turned her head from side to side, then flashed a toothy grin. The soldier yanked on the pin holding her dirtied peplos in place. A shudder went through Cassandra as she realized what the soldier meant to do, but she hadn't the strength to save herself.

One of the other Greeks stopped his friend. "No, you can't."

The soldier holding Cassandra rolled his eyes. "If you must, you can have her first."

"Hey, not again!" the third yelled.

The second soldier shook his head. "None of us can have this woman."

"And why not?" the first asked.

The second Greek studied Cassandra. "I think she's one of the princesses." He pulled her away from his friend.

The third soldier sighed. "So? There are plenty of others. We're allowed at least one."

The second soldier wrapped an arm around Cassandra. "No. Odysseus wants them all brought to him."

The first Greek pouted. "He won't miss one."

Without further comment, the second soldier led Cassandra from the temple. After a short time had passed, the other two Greeks followed. They grumbled about their lot and made some rude comments to the soldier who directed Cassandra. Cassandra's capturer didn't respond. He focused on Cassandra and used gentle gestures to steer her to their destination.

They reached the hill that had featured in one of Cassandra's recurring visions. On top, a brute of a man struck a young woman, Cassandra's youngest sister. Like what had been prophesized, two soldiers held her upright between themselves. Other soldiers lined the area around them. All cheered as Polyxena was hit time and time again.

Between blows, the man taunted the princess. He wanted her to cry, to beg for mercy. Twice, he offered to stop his abuse if she barked like a dog. Polyxena ignored his words, looked past him with a bored stare.

Each time she refused his wishes, the man's next assault was harder. In a matter of hits, Polyxena's once beautiful face became a misshapen, bruised mess. Then he struck Polyxena's nose, and with the explosion of blood came the young woman's first scream.

At the sight of the blood that dripped from her sister's face, Cassandra's numbness faded. She slapped at the soldier that held her. Her actions surprised the Greek, and she managed to break free. She raced for Polyxena. She'd only taken four steps when two soldiers restrained her. Cassandra bit and struggled, but their grip didn't falter.

The man who'd hurt Polyxena looked over his shoulder at the commotion Cassandra had caused. He nodded at the soldier who'd brought Cassandra from the temple. "And who is this?"

The soldier stood straighter. "Another princess."

The man, who Cassandra assumed must be Odysseus, smiled. When he did, his weatherworn features softened but didn't make him any more pleasant to gaze at. "Glad to meet you, Princess." Odysseus gestured to the smoldering city below. "How have we done?"

Cassandra hurled an insult at him.

Odysseus frowned. "I see." Lightning fast, he punched Polyxena in the mouth.

Polyxena groaned, but it was Cassandra who shrieked as if Odysseus had hit her. "No, leave her alone."

Odysseus looked at the crowd of his soldiers. "What do you think?" The men booed and jeered, and Odysseus shrugged. "I don't think that's going to happen. Unless..." He turned to Polyxena. "Will you plead for release, Princess? Will you accept your new position, that of a slave?"

With a busted face and a soiled peplos, Polyxena managed to raise her head high. "Never," she said; her voice dripped with contempt. "I'd rather die."

"No!" Cassandra cried, but no one paid her any mind.

Odysseus chuckled. "Is that so, Princess?"

Polyxena held her stance.

"Neoptolemus!" Odysseus called, and a young man who resembled Achilles, though he had a different shaped nose and longer hair than the demigod, stepped out of the group of soldiers. Odysseus stepped aside and pointed at Polyxena. "Take your revenge, my boy."

Without flourish, Neoptolemus walked behind Polyxena and removed a dagger from a sheath around his hips. He pressed the blade against the princess' throat, whispered something in her ear, and dragged the weapon across her tender flesh. A slit opened, and blood gushed out. The soldiers holding Polyxena aloft dropped their hold, and the young woman fell to the grass.

Cassandra screamed and kicked at her capturer. The soldier released her. No one stopped her as she hurried to her sister's side. Neoptolemus backed away, his broad features absent of satisfaction, and allowed Cassandra to cradle Polyxena close.

Though her sister had died before Cassandra had reached her, Cassandra still rocked Polyxena and sang her songs Agatha (luckily dead for many years now) had taught them in their youth. When those ended, Cassandra talked about the good times she'd shared with her sister and apologized for letting their relationship change during the war. Prayers followed, and Cassandra vaguely registered that the few soldiers who hadn't grown bored with her display of grief and wandered back toward the fallen city joined in her words.

As her final act, Cassandra rearranged Polyxena's offset peplos to give the dead princess some dignity in death.

With that done, Cassandra bent over her sister's body and bawled. Not just for Polyxena, but for all those who'd perished. While absurd, she blamed herself for the outcome of Troy. If she'd been wiser, if she'd been like all the other mortal women who'd caught the attention of a god and had surrendered to the sun god, Hermes would have never been able to deceive her. And Apollo wouldn't have felt betrayed enough to curse her, and all Cassandra's warnings would have been taken seriously.

Polyxena's skin grew cold as Cassandra held her. The sun dipped in the sky, and smoke from parts of the city dispersed. The soldiers around Cassandra murmured to each other and shifted on their feet. More than one called to Cassandra in a fruitless attempt to draw her away from Polyxena's body.

As dusk approached, a pair of sandals stepped into Cassandra's line of sight. She recognized them but didn't respond. She wanted death, deserved it even.

Odysseus bent to eye-level with Cassandra. "You need to rise, Princess."

She didn't respond.

Odysseus sighed, then stood. Cassandra thought he'd leave her be, but suddenly his hand tangled in her hair. With one solid yank, he ripped her away from Polyxena. Cassandra howled and slapped and clawed at Odysseus' face. He let her struggle for a moment before backhanding her much like Priam had the day before; in the same spot.

Cassandra wailed, and her actions ceased.

Odysseus grinned, and a soldier laughed. "Much better, Princess." He set her on her feet and straightened her peplos. "When I give you an order, you will follow it, or suffer the consequences. What I did to your sister will pale in comparison to what I'll do to you."

"Come now, Odysseus," a voice called from behind the cluster of soldiers. The men parted and let through a well-armored man with wavy red-brown hair and hard blue eyes. He studied Cassandra, then offered her a little bow. "Excuse my general, Princess. I'm afraid war makes him forget his better nature."

Odysseus grunted but didn't argue.

The man moved closer to Cassandra. He smiled. "It's remarkable how you resemble your brothers."

His words drew a comment from Cassandra. "My brothers?"

"Yes, the two I killed some time back. Antiphus and Hipponous."

Surprise widened Cassandra's eyes. She dropped her head, but the man caught the gesture. He grinned again.

"Yes, Princess, I'm Agamemnon."

Chapter Thirty-Six

The King of Mycenae's positive tone ignited Cassandra's fury. She glared at the man who'd toppled her beloved city and who'd ordered every death she'd either seen or heard. Pure, hot hatred hardened her heart.

"You're filth."

Odysseus' hand twitched, but Agamemnon waved his threat away. He laughed and got even closer to Cassandra. "I think, in time, your opinion will change."

"I'll never succumb to you. You're better off killing me."

Agamemnon shook his head. "Though it's hard to tell now, I know you're much too beautiful to kill."

Cassandra spat in his face and went to slap him. Agamemnon grasped her wrist and twisted her arm behind her back; rendered her immobile. He gestured to Odysseus, and the general called for a rope. Several soldiers ran away to comply.

A short time later, Odysseus tied up Cassandra. Once done, the King of Mycenae kissed her cracked lips. She bit at him as he pulled away, and he laughed.

"You're a lovely prize."

***

Agamemnon and his Greeks chose to weather the winter in Troy. They cleaned much of what they'd destroyed in search of riches and any living Trojans to take as slaves. Two days after the fires had died out, the Greeks gathered all the dead bodies and burned them on giant pyres. The ashes of the dead covered the countryside.

Those of higher rank stayed in the palace. Agamemnon occupied Priam's old bedchambers, while his generals took over Cassandra's deceased brothers' rooms. Unlike the slaves and other concubines, Cassandra was forced to her bedchamber; one of the few places in the palace that had gone untouched in the raid.

In the beginning, Cassandra didn't occupy it alone. Helen had been captured as she'd fled the palace the night of the attack and awaited her former husband's say in her fate. The two women didn't talk, didn't acknowledge one another. Helen sat huddled in a corner and chewed on her fingernails while she hummed to herself. Cassandra stuck to her bed. Food and water came twice a day, but neither consumed anything.

Two days passed, then a soldier arrived early on the third day. "King Menelaus will return to Sparta with you," he told Helen.

The former queen didn't react until the soldier repeated the news twice more. Awareness lit her red-rimmed eyes, and for the first time in years, a pleased smile crossed her lips. Helen crawled toward the soldier.

"Has my king forgiven me? I can truly go home?"

The Greek shrugged. "It appears so."

Helen stretched a hand toward the soldier. He took it and assisted her to her feet. He had to support her weight or else she would have collapsed.

"Can I prepare myself first?" Helen asked.

The soldier nodded. "Of course."

He led her from the chamber without either one sparing Cassandra a glance.

Cassandra cursed them both and wished for the ship to sink on the way back to Sparta. And for Helen and King Menelaus to drown, or for a giant sea monster to devour them. She knew her cry for revenge would go unheard, but it lightened her broken spirit a bit.

She settled back into her covers and resumed staring at the ceiling. Her stomach clenched with hunger and thirst made it hard to concentrate, but Cassandra didn't care. Every other moment that passed, she willed her body to cease functioning. She had since Agamemnon had her imprisoned in her bedchamber.

When Cassandra slept, no prophecies came to her. Though her longing for death followed her into her dreams. In them, she passed into the world of the dead in peace, surrounded by all her loved ones. They hadn't suffered what their reality counterparts had. All were whole, grinned and laughed, and each told her how much they missed and loved her.

Each time she woke and realized her heart still beat, she cried.

The next day, Agamemnon entered Cassandra's bedchamber. His hair glistened with water droplets from a recent bath. He avoided looking at Cassandra as he studied the room. He walked around and poked and prodded whatever he found interesting.

Once finished, he sat on the edge of Cassandra's bed. She scurried to a standing position. Agamemnon laughed.

"For someone who refuses to care for herself, you sure can move when you want."

Cassandra glared at him.

"Why don't you eat or drink, Princess?"

Further silence from Cassandra.

Agamemnon nodded as if she'd spoken. "You seek death. Well, Princess, I won't let it happen. If you continue to be stubborn, I'll have to find other...more unsavory methods...to keep you healthy."

A ridiculous, all-consuming thought struck Cassandra. If her body wouldn't waste away, she'd seek her end a better way. It wouldn't be as pleasant as starving to death, but it would do.

She launched herself across her bed and slammed into Agamemnon. While slight and malnourished, Cassandra surprised the King of Mycenae and managed to knock him to the floor. She made to pin him in place and claw out his eyes, but Agamemnon halted her efforts by using his superior strength and size to pin her arms to her body.

Cassandra expected his retaliation, a series of blows that would break her body beyond repair. She welcomed the due punishment. She knew she wouldn't feel much pain and what she did would only remind her of the sweet promise of release her actions had obtained.

What she sought never came. Instead, Agamemnon kissed her much like he had on the hill, then released her. He shoved her away and stood.

Cassandra stumbled back into the chair on the other side of the chamber. She screamed in outrage.

The King of Mycenae chuckled and left.

When food and water came later, Cassandra consumed as much of it as she could. She'd make herself a formidable foe, one Agamemnon wouldn't find amusing. He'd have to kill her to live.

***

Five days passed without another sighting from Agamemnon. In his absence, Cassandra ate and drank more than she had in months. At first, the excess consumption made her sick, but after her body expelled what it wanted, she demanded more. Her requests never went unfulfilled.

On the second day since Agamemnon's visit, the slave who came to retrieve Cassandra's empty dishes dropped the ceramic plate, and it shattered into several pieces. The slave, once a highly regarded palace servant, exclaimed her stupidity and begged for forgiveness. Cassandra calmed the woman, then told her to retrieve the tools to clean the mess. The slave responded with haste.

The sight of the broken plate had given life to a new plan, and Cassandra acted in her few moments alone. She picked up the largest piece of jagged ceramic and tucked it under her bedcovers. Then she scattered the remaining broken pieces to dilute suspicion.

The woman returned, cleaned up the mess, and left after several more apologies. The slave's fear infuriated Cassandra. Her father hadn't been the kindest or most understanding master, but he would have never punished an underling for a simple mistake.

As she returned to her bed and thought through her plan, she revised the end part. Cassandra had initially just wanted to terrify Agamemnon into killing her, but now she intended to take the monster's life as well. If Agamemnon didn't strike her a fatal blow before death, Odysseus would end her.

Cassandra smiled. Killing the King of Mycenae wouldn't undo all the horror that had befallen Troy and its citizens, but she hoped his death would offer the poor souls in the Underworld some relief.

***

Late on the fifth day, Agamemnon let himself into the room. Cassandra sat on her bed, her right hand tucked under her leg. The position seemed casual, but her fingers clasped the ceramic shard. In one swift movement, she could wield the weapon without hindrance.

Agamemnon watched her much like he had days prior. He took two steps toward the bed, and when she didn't react, his shoulders dropped. He grinned.

"I'm almost saddened." He reached the bed and settled near her. "You're much more beautiful when riled."

The King of Mycenae reached for Cassandra's left hand, and she acted. She removed the shard from its hiding spot and leaped at Agamemnon. His surprise allowed her to pin him on the bed without a struggle. A wild laugh escaped her as she pressed the shard against his exposed neck.

"How beautiful am I now?"

The shock fled Agamemnon's eyes, replaced by cold anger. Cassandra tightened her grip on the shard, but before she could slice his neck, Agamemnon slammed his forehead into hers. She yelped and tumbled to the ground; dropped the shard.

Through her blinding pain, she searched for her weapon. After a heart-pounding moment, Cassandra's fingers graced it. Just as she grabbed it, Agamemnon's foot stomped on her fingers. She screamed.

Agamemnon bent close to her. "You will not attempt me harm again."

"I'll never stop!"

He smirked. "Oh, I'm sure you will, Princess."

"Only in death."

Agamemnon chuckled. "Did you know you're not the only surviving member of your family in Troy?"

The news gave Cassandra pause. He had to lie. She'd seen her mother, father, and siblings die. Ascanius and Aeneas had fled to safety. Who else remained?

"I have no one."

Agamemnon shook his head. "It's a shame to hear your father didn't think of his bastards in a better light."

Cassandra's blood froze. She'd forgotten her lesser siblings; ones Priam had fathered through concubines. In all the chaos, she hadn't thought of their wellbeing. Shame forced bile into her throat. How could she have been so selfish?

The King of Mycenae's implication hit her then. Even if one of her lesser siblings lived, she couldn't put their lives in danger. As much as she despised the realization, Cassandra would have to abandon her hope to provoke Agamemnon and his Greeks into killing her.

Her defeat must have shown on her face because Agamemnon removed his foot from her hand. He kicked the shard into a corner, then forced Cassandra to stand. His rough hand brushed back her unruly hair before he clamped his mouth over hers.

Disgust twisted her insides, but she didn't struggle. She didn't threaten to bite Agamemnon's tongue as it slid past her lips, nor did she slap his hands away when he fondled her breasts. Her compliance shredded what remained of her soul, but if it meant keeping those she loved safe, Cassandra would do whatever was required.

Agamemnon pulled back and grinned. "Much better."

With quick hands, he disrobed her. Cassandra shook as she stood naked before his lustful gaze, but she didn't dare attempt to shield herself. What if he retaliated?

"Is your maidenhood still intact, Princess?"

Cassandra bowed her head to hide her detestation. "Yes...m-my King."

Agamemnon undressed, took Cassandra's hand, and pulled her to the bed. He pushed her onto the blankets and got on top of her. "You truly are a perfect prize."

Chapter Thirty-Seven

All through the fall, Agamemnon came to Cassandra every night. Though she wanted to hurl vicious words, to let him know the depth of her disdain, she never denied his advances, and only spoke when he required it. As the weeks continued, her self-loathing reached a height she'd never seen, and Cassandra plunged into an abyss of depression she'd never recover from. But she continued to care for herself, to eat, drink, and bathe like expected.

When Cassandra had proven she wouldn't attempt to escape if the opportunity presented itself, Agamemnon allowed her to wander the garden paths to her heart's content. A soldier had to shadow her, and she couldn't speak to anyone, but she exercised the offer. Cassandra found no beauty or solace in her once beloved garden, but she relished the change of scenery.

Then, as winter drove away fall, Cassandra's health changed. More days than not, exhaustion kept her in bed. Every part of her body ached. She often woke in the middle of the night, overheated and lightheaded.

She didn't mention her problems. Cassandra thought the gods had finally answered one of her prayers and she was dying in a fashion that wouldn't upset the Greeks; that wouldn't get her loved ones killed. Salvation was at hand, and she didn't want to risk anyone curing her condition.

Cassandra managed to keep her ailments secret even after she started vomiting at odd points throughout the day. When she couldn't eat her meals, she hid the food until she went to the garden and buried it. She demanded face powder (with the excuse of pleasing Agamemnon) to mask her hollow cheeks and sunken in eyes.

Almost two months since her illness' start, her charade collapsed.

Agamemnon came to her like always and disrobed as soon as he shut her door. All day Cassandra had battled an extreme bout of nausea and didn't think she could handle the activity to come. But she didn't speak up and let Agamemnon have his way with her.

Mid-act, and without a chance to give warning, Cassandra vomited on the King of Mycenae. He was on top of her, and the bile splattered on his chest. He cursed and climbed off her and the bed. Agamemnon fled to the bathing chamber.

In his absence, Cassandra expelled what little she still had in her stomach into a water jug. Once done, she pulled the soiled bed linen off her mattress and threw it near the door. Then she sat in the chair in front of the roaring fireplace and waited--with tears in her eyes--for Agamemnon's return.

Not long after, the King of Mycenae left the bathing chamber; clean of her vomit. He didn't yell or lash out, but instead narrowed his eyes. "Was that a mistake?"

Cassandra nodded. "I-I'm sorry, my King. I...haven't felt well."

"For how long?"

She battled her urge to lie. Agamemnon had the disturbing ability to know when a person did, and if they did, his responding fury could terrify a god. "I--About two months."

"Any other problems?"

Cassandra listed them.

Once she finished, he crossed the room, put on his discarded chiton, and left. Before Cassandra could debate her next course of action, Agamemnon appeared with his personal Greek doctor and two city-women-turned-slaves. While the slaves cleaned the mess in both the bed and bathing chamber, the doctor examined Cassandra. She complied with all he asked and did, though her nudeness and Agamemnon's presence unnerved her.

The doctor turned to the King of Mycenae when the examination ended and brushed his hair behind his ears. "It's just as you suspected."

A grin stretched Agamemnon's lips, and Cassandra knew her death wasn't imminent. "When?"

"Without complications, sometime in mid-summer."

"What's wrong with me?" Cassandra blurted.

The doctor patted Cassandra's knee, but Agamemnon answered her. "You're carrying my child."

***

The same midwife who'd overseen Hecuba's last pregnancy tended to Cassandra. Though the doctor didn't find it necessary, Agamemnon had the midwife--a sour-faced, middle-aged woman named Hagne--tend to Cassandra's every need. Cassandra couldn't lift a finger without Hagne materializing beside her and taking over. A cot was put in Cassandra's bedchamber for Hagne to sleep on, and the King of Mycenae even rewarded Hagne's service with delicacies only available to him and his generals.

Often, Cassandra caught Hagne gazing at her with pity. The midwife didn't dare make a comment, but Cassandra knew the woman thought Cassandra was in the worst sort of circumstance: having the child of the man who'd destroyed all she loved. Cassandra never let on she agreed.

A few weeks after the doctor's assessment, Cassandra could once again sleep through the night, energy filled her, and her nausea disappeared. Sore, enlarged breasts, shooting hip and back pains, and ravenous hunger followed. Hagne did her best to soothe Cassandra's many aches and tried to get Cassandra to eat what her body required, but Cassandra refused. She believed if she denied the child within her proper nutrition, it'd perish. Alone, she murmured curses and horrible words at it.

Short of inflicting harm on herself and the child (something Cassandra fantasied about but never did to keep her siblings and Hagne safe), nothing seemed to discourage Agamemnon's offspring. It shouldn't have been possible, but Cassandra's too-thin body filled out, her hair and nails shined, and her skin glowed. She looked better than she had in years.

Agamemnon continued to come to Cassandra at night, though not as often as he once had until the pregnancy started to show. To Cassandra, it seemed to happen all at once, and despite her hatred for what Agamemnon had done to her, she marveled at her body's change. When the child moved for the first time, Cassandra burst into tears as an errant wish overtook her: she wanted so badly for the life within her to have been created by Othryoneus. She allowed herself a moment to wallow in her sadness and longing, then walled off her feelings in fear they'd convince her to care for the child.

Five months into the ordeal, Cassandra's abdomen had swelled to twice the size she remembered her mother's being at this point. Hagne and the doctor speculated she either carried a massive child or, more likely, there were two. Cassandra flew into a rage after the doctor told her this and wrecked her room. Hagne had two discreet slaves clean the mess once Cassandra had worn herself out and fallen asleep.

***

Toward the end of her pregnancy, Agamemnon decided he wanted his child born in Mycenae like his other children. The doctor didn't think it wise for Cassandra to travel so close to the child's arrival, but Agamemnon ignored his concerns. He organized the trip, gutted Troy of all its valuables, sent his generals on their way, and then left the city he'd occupied for almost a year.

For most of the journey, Cassandra stayed in her living quarters with Hagne. She didn't like being on the ship, and neither did the child. It kicked and punched all day. Hagne gave Cassandra concoctions meant to calm the child, but nothing worked. With little sleep, Cassandra turned into a miserable ass who lashed out at everyone and everything. After the first handful of times, she stopped apologizing.

Then, two days before their predicted arrival, a clenching, bloated pain started in Cassandra's lower abdomen and pelvis; woke her early that morning. It came and went at odd intervals, and while it irritated her, the pain wasn't worse than any of the other ones she'd experienced throughout her pregnancy. But around mid-day, the pain increased and lasted for more extended bouts. It got so intense, Cassandra had to chew on the inside of her cheek to hold back her screams. She did her best to keep her face expressionless, to keep Hagne unaware. But not much escaped the midwife, and if it did, never for long.

Hagne pressed a cold hand to Cassandra's flushed forehead. "Describe your pain."

Through clenched teeth, Cassandra did.

Hagne nodded. "I feared this would happen." She rose from the cot she and Cassandra sat on. "I'm going to retrieve the doctor. When the pain comes again, take slow, deep breaths, and walk around as much as possible."

The midwife left the small cabin.

Cassandra didn't give Hagne's advice high regard and considered ignoring it altogether. Until another wave of pain hit her. A guttural moan escaped her. She wanted to cry loud enough to shake the heavens but chose the midwife's plan instead. Cassandra struggled to do the breathing Hagne had described. She did, though, and it eased a bit of her agony.

The horrible sensation lessened to a bearable level, and Cassandra stood. She had to sit back down when a vision dragged her under. She hadn't had one in months, not since the sacking of Troy, and had almost forgotten how all-consuming they were.

For the longest time, she only saw blackness. Then four flames, two more prominent than the others, flickered into existence; highlighted a room with furniture Cassandra couldn't see well. As she tried to focus on an object before her, a door to the room opened, and a blurred figure crept inside. The way it moved seemed familiar, but before Cassandra could figure out why, the figure swiped its hand through the two larger flames. It turned to the remaining two but froze.

An image of a man with eyes blacker than coal and as shiny as polished pebbles, a handsome face paled by lack of sunlight, and brown-blond hair kept at shoulder-length appeared over the figure and two flames. He looked to where Cassandra felt she was in the scene, and the saddest expression contorted his features. "I'm sorry I haven't responded before now. Circumstances have...prevented me."

The man had a soothing, friendly voice, and it struck Cassandra as odd. She'd always been told he'd sound the opposite, that when he spoke, her soul would quake with dread. Yet he seemed the nicest of all the--what? Cassandra grasped at the thought but couldn't remember the end of it.

But it didn't matter. The man had continued talking. "I wish I could tell you what you've just witnessed can be avoided, but what's been woven can't be undone. Yet, I've used my pull, and the rest of the weaving has yet to happen. What remains of this vision is yours to decide." He smiled, and the melancholy in his features vanished. "I know it's not much but thank you for remembering me. Mortals so rarely show me the level of acknowledgment you have."

Cassandra wanted to respond, but she couldn't make a sound.

Her visitor nodded like she had, then disappeared. His act ended the vision.

Cassandra returned to the present just as Hagne entered with the doctor. The doctor fired questions at Cassandra while he inspected her. In her recurring pain, she forgot the details of her vision.

The doctor gestured to Hagne to get the midwife's attention. "She's in labor." He pointed at Cassandra. "Ready her."

***

Cassandra had worried labor would be a grueling ordeal like it had for her mother. But, thank the gods, once her body realized what needed to be done, she didn't have to suffer for long. Her laboring was as quick as Creusa's had been.

The pain worsened to the point Cassandra feared she'd pass out just as the doctor ordered her to push. She screamed about his ineptitude while she complied. She felt her pelvic muscles release, and the pain subsided.

"Good. Good," the doctor said.

Then a sound Cassandra had heard many times filled the cabin: the howls of an unhappy child. Though unlike in the past when the wailing had irritated, her heart clenched, and rage boiled in her veins. Who had hurt her child?

Cassandra propped herself up on her elbows and watched as the doctor handed the red, wet, tiny figure to Hagne. The midwife carried the squealing infant over to a bowl of warm water set on a table. She went to quick work cleaning away the birthing mess.

"No, let m--"

Another series of miserable anguish hit Cassandra, and she wailed louder than her child.

The doctor returned to his previous position between her bent knees. "That would be the other one," he mumbled to himself.

A few heartbeats later, and her second twin entered the world. Like with the first, the doctor handed the infant to Hagne, and the midwife performed her job. While she did, the doctor helped Cassandra birth what more her body needed to. Then, with Hagne's help, he cleared away the evidence of labor.

While they worked, Cassandra entered a daze. She wanted to sleep but couldn't until she held her children. Until she ensured their safety and contentedness.

Finally, Hagne and the doctor completed their tasks. The doctor told the midwife to dress Cassandra in presentable clothing while he went to inform Agamemnon of his good fortune. Hagne did as instructed, and assisted Cassandra to her cot. Once situated, the midwife placed Cassandra's twins in her arms.

Hagne described how to feed the infants properly, but Cassandra didn't listen as she inspected her children. Both had quit their crying but still whimpered on and off. She peeled away their blankets and discovered she'd birthed sons. She counted their toes and studied their small bodies for any imperfections. Both appeared as healthy as any child Cassandra had ever seen.

Her sons had eyes the color of Cassandra's. The one in her right arm had hair as red as hers, and his nose and lips were the shapes of his father's. The one in her left arm had hair like Agamemnon's, yet Cassandra thought he resembled Priam.

As her inspection continued, her sons' whimpers increased. This stopped when Cassandra ran her fingers over their soft skin. They watched her and even sighed when she kissed their cheeks.

Hagne cleared her throat.

Cassandra's attention snapped away from her sons. "What?"

Evident distaste contorted the midwife's face. Her gaze flitted from the twins to Cassandra. "Why?"

A part of Cassandra--the part that didn't understand her overwhelming motherly instincts and resented her for easy compliance--understood the midwife's confusion. Since she'd learned of her pregnancy, she'd wanted nothing more than its termination. Though Cassandra had felt a little guilt for her dark thoughts against the unborn child within her, she hadn't been able to stop herself from believing Agamemnon, the king of vile, would only produce offspring as rotten as him.

Now, she resented herself for her past ideas and the bit of her that sympathized with the midwife. And Cassandra wanted to rip out Hagne's throat for thinking along the same terrible lines. Her sons didn't have to grow to become their father. They had a blank slate and could very well go on to do the world a lot of good.

Cassandra held her sons tighter. "Get out."

The midwife's head jerked like she'd been slapped. "B-but...I just--You can't--"

"Get. Out."

"What about the King?"

Cassandra shrugged. "You'll come up with a convincing explanation. Hopefully."

Hagne gazed at Cassandra for many heartbeats. Her eyes pleaded, but Cassandra didn't relent. The midwife gave up and exited the cabin.

After Hagne left, the twins started to fuss again. Cassandra figured they were hungry, and though she had ignored the midwife's instruction, she did well in getting her sons to latch onto her breasts and eat. It took more effort than Cassandra had expected. Exhaustion hit her, and just after the twins had had their fill, she fell asleep with them snuggled close to her sides.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Agamemnon allowed Cassandra to rest through the night but burst into her living quarters at daybreak. Luckily the twins, which Cassandra had named after her brothers Hector and Helenus, had woken her before their father's arrival, and she had them fed and changed in the clothes someone had delivered in the night. When Agamemnon entered the cabin, Cassandra sat on her cot and hummed her sons one of the songs she'd sang to Polyxena as her sister had died.

The King of Mycenae chuckled as he neared the trio. "This is more than I could have dreamed of. Two sons!"

His voice startled Hector, the redhaired twin, and he cried. Helenus' gaze left Cassandra and fell on Agamemnon. His mouth opened and closed, almost like he tried to address his father. The absurd idea made Cassandra smile, and Agamemnon took that as joy at his praise.

"You've done me well, Princess."

Cassandra's attention flicked to her sons' father. Somehow, her hatred for him broke new ground. He'd forced her into having the twins, and now that she loved them more than she'd loved anyone in her life, he would take them from her and raise them in his image. Yes, if Agamemnon was anything like Priam, he allowed his concubines a lot of access to their children, but they had no say in their upbringing.

Agamemnon reached for Helenus. Cassandra's first instinct was to draw back and shield her child from the abhorrent creature before her, but she overrode the desire. Her heart raced as she allowed Agamemnon to take her son.

He handled the child with experienced hands as he studied his offspring. "Hello, little Pelops," he said.

Though she'd known Agamemnon would choose his own names for the twins, and even if he did ask for her input, he'd never accept the names she'd chosen, the fact that he dared to name her children outraged Cassandra. She wanted to yell, to demand punishment for his overreach. But, common sense said, he has every right. He's the king--your king now.

Even so, it didn't mean she had to accept what Agamemnon decided. To her, her sons would always be Hector and Helenus. And maybe their secret names would invoke the good qualities of their uncles, and it would allow them to combat the terrible lessons of their father.

Agamemnon returned Helenus to Cassandra and picked up the still-wailing Hector. He bounced his son and murmured low words until the child calmed. Agamemnon kissed Hector's forehead. "You'll be a troublemaker, won't you, Teledamus?"

Hector gurgled as if in answer.

The King of Mycenae laughed again, then placed Hector in Cassandra's free arm. He looked at Cassandra. "We dock tomorrow, and then you get to witness the grandeur of Mycenae."

Cassandra bowed her head. "Yes, my King."

Without another word, Agamemnon left, and Cassandra went on caring for her sons.

***

Despite her resolve to be unimpressed by anything dealing with Agamemnon and his home, as Cassandra stood on the deck and gazed at the city before her, she had to admit Mycenae looked every bit as impressive as Troy had. The outside wall and barricades told of Mycenae's military prowess, but the grand buildings beyond spoke of the city's prosperity. And, just like in Troy, the palace sat on a hill that rose above the city.

On the massive deck below, a crowd had gathered to welcome their king home. In the middle of the red carpet that had been rolled out stood a tall woman, Agamemnon's wife, Clytemnestra. Her golden curls and light skin mimicked her sister's, but, though attractive, she didn't possess the captivating quality Helen had.

The sight of Clytemnestra made Cassandra recall the prophecy she'd had during labor, and she realized who the shadowed figure had been. She pondered the significance of the flames. They represented something, but what? What would the Queen of Mycenae want to destroy with her own hand?

Unlike every other person around her, Clytemnestra didn't watch as Agamemnon descended from the ship. Her tawny brown eyes found Cassandra, and the look she threw her husband's newest concubine answered Cassandra's question. And combined with what Hades had told her, Cassandra understood the full meaning of her vision.

The queen's jealousy would end Cassandra's life. And, Cassandra felt safe to assume, Agamemnon's would as well. But the twins might not have to die if Cassandra didn't want them to.

Of course, she didn't, yet it couldn't be as simple as declaring she wanted her sons to live. No, she had to act.

But what could she do?

The glint of a gold relic that had been taken from a temple in Troy caught Cassandra's eye. Confidence wrapped around her like a warm blanket as an idea jumped to mind. With a sureness that must have been given to her by the gods, she knew if she moved quickly and without hesitation, she could save her sons.

***

Two nights later, Cassandra sat in the set of rooms that had been assigned her sons' nursery. A fireplace burned in the center of the main room, and its faint, pleasant light didn't reach the corners. Cassandra had taken a spot near her sons' cradles. Her position allowed her to see every inch of the room while in concealment.

She'd been waiting for a long time but didn't grow discouraged. She knew tonight Clytemnestra would put her plan into motion. All Cassandra had to do was exercise patience.

Waiting for her death didn't frighten Cassandra like she thought it would. She'd asked for it for so long, it felt overdue. Morbid anticipation drove her to want to pace and fidget, but she controlled herself.

The fire burned low by the time the door to the nursery opened, and Clytemnestra snuck inside. She moved with soft, sure footsteps to the cradles. In her hand, she carried a dagger already stained with blood.

At the first cradle, Clytemnestra ripped back the top blanket. What she saw--or better yet, what she didn't--drew a curse from her. Her reaction almost made Cassandra laugh. The Queen of Mycenae's fury satisfied Cassandra, and she silently thanked Hades for his meddling.

The god had facilitated her further than the warning in her vision. When she'd sought someone who she could trust her sons' lives with, Hades had led her to one of Clytemnestra's handmaidens named Sostrate. Four years prior, Sostrate had been traveling with her family when rogues had ambushed them. They'd killed the young woman's parents and two sisters and had sold her into the service of the Mycenean royals.

Sostrate hated her fate, and always dreamt of freedom, yet couldn't bear the outside world without money. She'd mapped out her escape, and every day tried to work up the courage to flee. Once Cassandra showed her the pieces of gold and silver she'd stolen the night before, the young woman didn't take much more convincing.

A small reservation almost kept Cassandra from following through with her plan. She didn't know Sostrate. The handmaiden very well might dump the twins into the ocean and take off with the coins. How could she be so foolish to place so much trust in a stranger?

Yet Hades was the only god to address her devotions, let alone thank her for them. Of all the gods, the God of the Underworld appeared the most honest. In what seemed another lifetime, Cassandra had put her faith in a god notorious for his flakiness so she could believe the one with a better reputation.

Clytemnestra moved on to the other cradle. She went through the same motions, though when she found the second one empty, she yelled and stabbed the linens.

Cassandra watched the Queen's tantrum for a few heartbeats, then rose from her chair. She moved as if she hunted Clytemnestra and stepped behind the older woman unnoticed. "How unfortunate."

The Queen of Mycenae yelped and spun around; brandished her dagger. Cassandra had had the foresight to leave enough space for her to avoid the soiled blade. "Y-you! Where are they?"

Cassandra smirked. "That would be telling."

Clytemnestra screamed again and stepped toward Cassandra. She jabbed the dagger forward as she moved, and Cassandra didn't bother to block the assault. The blade sank into Cassandra's slightly swollen abdomen, and pain like what she'd experienced during labor exploded within her.

But she didn't cry out. Nor did she beg for mercy. Instead, Cassandra giggled in the other woman's face.

"Tramp!" Clytemnestra removed the blade, and plunged the dagger into Cassandra again, closer to Cassandra's ribcage. She bent close to Cassandra. "Still find this amusing?"

Though blood now soaked the front of her peplos and her limbs felt heavier than slabs of stone, Cassandra managed to kiss the Queen of Mycenae's cheek. "Very."

Clytemnestra slapped her and withdrew the dagger. She shoved Cassandra, and Cassandra fell to the floor like a sack of stones. Clytemnestra kicked her once in the side, then ran from the room.

The fall and kick heightened her overall pain to a level Cassandra had never experienced. Now alone, she allowed herself to cry and moan. Though Cassandra wanted death, she didn't want to suffer until the end. But one thought comforted her as her blood pooled around her body: she'd finally managed to save someone. She'd die in a thousand different ways, each more gruesome than the last, if it meant her sons got to live.

In her last moments, Cassandra recalled the better times in her life. In time, her pain lessened, and she didn't know if it meant she was on the edge of death or if her memories had provided a sort of balm to her hurt. Whichever, Cassandra didn't mind. She sighed with relief and closed her eyes; ready.

Suddenly, a bright light ruptured into existence. At first, Cassandra believed it was in her mind and a prelude to death. But when it didn't fade she realized it came from something near her. She opened her eyes and would have gasped if she still could.

A figure Cassandra hadn't seen in ten years crouched beside her. He glowed brighter than she'd ever seen him, but the light didn't agitate. His bottom lip trembled as he cupped her head.

"I-I--Just hold on, okay?"

It took Cassandra's hazy mind a moment to register his words. "No. My thread has been cut."

"But I could--"

Cassandra lifted her hand and placed it on Apollo's wrist. "Even if you could do something, I wouldn't let you. I'm tired. I want this...I want to rest."

Apollo sobbed, and tears the color of liquid gold trickled down his face. "I let this happen. If I hadn't been such a bastard. If I'd--But I knew you weren't guilty of anything." He ran a hand through her curls much like he'd done in the past. "Why didn't I listen to you?"

"You were stupid."

The sun god laughed. "An understatement, to say the least."

Cassandra smiled and moved her hand from Apollo's wrist to his face. She traced his perfect features. "It doesn't matter, though. I forgive you."

He kissed her. It wasn't like their first kiss, was barely a meeting of their lips, yet it conveyed just as much emotion as their other one. Cassandra's body shuddered with happiness only Apollo could bring her.

The sun god pulled away. "I love you."

"I love--"

A figure appeared behind Apollo. His strong black wings distracted from his bland features but told Cassandra who stood before her. Though the god of death didn't say a word, and his pupil-less green eyes never swiveled toward Cassandra, she knew he'd come for her. Thanatos confirmed this when he extended his hand.

With no hesitation, Cassandra wrapped her fingers around the god of death's warm ones. He hauled her up, and she felt a tear somewhere inside of her. It didn't cause any further agony, but the sensation had a sense of finality about it.

"No!" Apollo reached for her, but his hand went through her.

Cassandra glanced down and saw the sun god still held her body--her corpse. She turned from it and smiled one last time at Apollo. "I love you, too."

Apollo cried harder and wrapped her corpse in a tight hug.

Thanatos tugged on her hand. Cassandra spared her first and greatest love one last glance before she allowed the god of death to take her away from the scene. She left the world of the living, calm and prepared for what lay ahead in the Underworld.

