English Version: Sands & Sparrow

34

"This place is beautiful," Aveline whispered in amazement, her eyes roving. Huge crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The mansion resembled a church with its vast space and opulent designs, large and almost intimidating at every turn. The floors were polished concrete, and the furniture, fit for royalty, boasted rare qualities. The carpet on the floor was so clean, it was hard to believe anyone had ever stepped on it. Aveline moved away from the rug, worried about leaving her footprints.

Her footsteps echoed on the marble floor as she noticed a large painting on the wall, depicting a beautiful woman with a sad expression.

"That's Helen of Troy," a soft voice trailed behind her.

Aveline stiffened, then quickly turned towards the voice. "Oh, it's you, Miss Veron," she greeted shyly.

"I'm sorry; I startled you," Ophelia smiled, wearing a red silk robe, her hair tied back. Her tall and slender physique made her resemble a Venus de Milo. She moved beside Aveline, and they stood in front of the large painting. "My great-grandfather was a noble lord in Spain. During the Spanish colonization, he built this villa, and our family has used it as part of our home since. That painting was created by him," Ophelia looked at the painting as she began to tell the story. "At first, I never liked this place," she sighed. "I spent all my life in Europe, graduated from boarding schools, and became famous due to my family's aristocratic lineage. Then I got bored and decided to move here. My father wants me to manage his business here. Staying here wasn't a bad idea, after all." She glanced at Aveline and smiled. Her blonde hair shimmered in the light as she looked at her. Aveline's cheeks blushed under her gaze; there was something about Ophelia's eyes that was hard to resist.

"Why did you invite me here?" Aveline asked curiously.

Ophelia chuckled. "Do you know about Helen of Troy?" She diverted from the question, her gaze returning to the painting before shifting to Aveline.

Aveline shook her head in response.

"You see that woman standing there? In Greek myths, she was considered the most beautiful woman in the world. Helen was married to Menelaus. Then a shepherd boy named Paris fell in love with her, and they eloped in the name of love. Menelaus was a king; a man whose wife was taken would definitely be enraged. He gathered all his army. Paris was the son of a king, and then the war ensued. Cities were burned, thousands of lives were lost, all because of one woman. The beautiful, Helen." Ophelia's black eyes sparkled as she admired the simplicity in Aveline.

"Her life seemed complicated," Aveline remarked, focusing her attention on the painting to avoid Ophelia's gaze.

"Do you think, fighting for her love, was it worth it?" Ophelia asked with a half-smile.

"I don't know. It's hard to decide," Aveline said, continuing to stare at the painting.

"I think it's the most selfish love story ever told. A thousand ships were destroyed. Great cities fell. Lives were lost. All because of her." Ophelia pursed her lips as she observed the painting.

Ophelia invited her to the living room; together, they sat at a round table. A small fountain was displayed inside the spacious room, with servants standing outside the door, waiting to be called.

A set of tea and a delicious meal were served on the table, unfamiliar to Aveline's eyes, but she had no appetite to taste it. They were both seated, staring at each other. Aveline swallowed dryly and chewed the bottom of her lip in nervousness.

Ophelia lit a cigarette and smirked at Aveline's demeanor. "Please... don't be scared. Am I a monster?" she asked sweetly, holding the cigarette elegantly. Her persona filled the air, her aristocratic look and beautiful face hinting at a dangerous personality, yet seductively appealing. "S-sorry if my uneasiness bothers you," Aveline apologized, wiping her clammy hand on her skirt.