Twenty
"Paris, I think we're far enough away," I said as he dragged me further into the palace.
The place was a maze, and I'm sure he was just as lost as I was, but he was too frustrated to care where we were going. The wing we stood in was beautifully decorated with tapestries and large, white pillars, the standard Grecian architecture. We passed another courtyard. It was decorated much like the one we'd had lunch in, but smaller, and there were fewer plants. It was quiet and vacant, and Paris slowed to a stop. His hand clenched mine tightly, practically cutting off the circulation in my fingers, but I didn't mind. If anything, I couldn't help but marvel at the fact that his hand was so much bigger than mine and how it wrapped perfectly around my hand.
"Was it a mistake to come here, Alexis?" he asked.
I pulled my eyes away from our hands. It was a mistake, especially in regards to how terrible his family was. But I couldn't have him turning around and running back to the farm either.
"Your parents are real peachy," I shrugged, "but at least you have the chance to see Greece. And, from what I understand, only Hector will be going to Sparta, so you won't have to deal with your parents either."
"Hector doesn't like me," Paris sighed, rubbing his neck.
It was then that I noticed how exhausted he was. He'd left the man who raised and protected him because he needed to see who he was, and then he wound up facing a family who placed too much on his shoulders way too soon. We've been there for all of five minutes, and he was already being thrust into the Trojan ambassador role.
I stepped closer and placed a hand over his. "Hey, he doesn't know you yet, but give it some time. Did you see the look on his face when he found us? He seems kind of like a prick, but he looked excited to meet you."
From what I recalled, Hector was a real family man. He cared about his family more than anything.
"You're right," Paris said and leaned in to rest his forehead against mine. His voice was barely a whisper. "Thank you, Alexis. I'm glad you're here."
The gratitude and trust in Paris's puppy dog eyes wedged sharply into my sternum. I said all the right things, things I should be saying, and I felt horrible for it.
"Of course," I whispered back, not trusting to raise my voice. "Where else would I be?"
When he pulled back, my forehead felt cold, and my chest felt heavy. His cheeks were pink, and he wrung his hands nervously. I kept telling myself that we'd only just met, literally twenty-four hours ago, there wasn't time for any feelings. I had my honour to consider, duh, and this wasn't Romeo and Juliet. We were just two people who needed someone to lean on.
"What happened to Zoisme?" I asked, "saying that she was your slave? I thought you were letting her go?"
"It was the best I could come up with without having to answer too many questions," he sighed. "She was clearly with us and if I said she was a free slave or if I said nothing at all she'd be in more trouble."
His response was surprising. The whole time she travelled with us, he didn't acknowledge her at all. All along he actually did care.
"You probably should go speak to your family again. They'll be wanting to know what their precious Alexandros has been up to all these years." I nudged him to show I was teasing.
"Oh, gods, don't call me that," Paris groaned, but a smile played on his lips. "I know it's the name the queen... my mother... had chosen for me, but that's not my name."
"No. Paris suits you more," I grinned, "it's not a common name, and you are not a common guy."
"What does that mean?" he asked.
With his eyebrows raised and a playful smile toying with his lips, he looked too good for this world. Everyone here was focused on war, but not Paris. He was more interested in living life rather than dying. It was an admirable yet foolish notion to have in the ancient world. To serve the kingdom was an honour, especially for a prince.
"It means that you, Paris, are trying to live by no one's expectations," I said, "even though everyone is forcing you to be someone."
"And yet, I have agreed to go to Sparta as a prince of Ilios." Paris leaned against the wall. "I am still living by the expectations of the anax and queen. I appreciate your support, Alexis, but don't make me out to be something I'm not."
"Paris, that's not true—" I started, but something caught his attention over my shoulder. He pushed away from the wall and adjusted his outfit nervously. When I turned, I saw the young, veiled woman. Cassandra.
"You'll have to excuse our parents," she said in her soft voice. "They mean well, but defending Ilios comes first above all else."
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, yeah, above all, including their own son's well being. Great parenting right there." Paris shot me a warning look, but the sting of their rudeness still lingered. If it weren't for the fact that they had means to transport me to Greece, I'd be watching this place in my rearview mirror. "What? It's true."
Cassandra stepped forward and clasped her brother's hands with hers. He stiffened, tried to pull away, but she held firm. I couldn't see her expression through the veil, but I imagined it was desperate.
"This is your destiny, but you must be careful, Paris. I have seen the end of the war, and Ilios falls. If you are not careful, you will bring that fate to us all." She glanced at me. "This girl can help you change that outcome. She has already claimed your heart, hasn't she?"
Gently, Paris pried his hands away from his sister's and glanced at me warily. I hoped they couldn't hear my heart racing nor see my damp hands. Cassandra was the one who warned everyone about Troy's fate in the war, despite the fact that no one believed her. If she saw me in her visions, I was becoming more and more integral in the story. I've only been in Troy for a few days, and already the waves I made were greater than I'd anticipated.
"She has," Paris said, his voice so soft that I barely heard him.
I could basically hear the smile in Cassandra's voice. "That is good. The course of the war has already changed..."
There was a ringing in my ears. This is how this was supposed to go. I understood the context when he picked me as his prize for the golden apple, but I thought it was an empty meaning. I couldn't let this happen. He couldn't fall in love with me. Not like that. We weren't Romeo and Juliet. And I wasn't Helen...
Yet my chest ached and called out for that affection he had for me.
A rough hand pressed against my cheek, and with a rushing sound in my ears, I slammed back into reality. I was on the floor, hands pressed against my ears. The pristine white walls, the colourful, painstakingly woven tapestries hanging on the walls, the luscious tropical plants...
Paris was crouched in front of me, Cassandra lingering by his shoulder. His hand rested against my cheek and our eyes met, his chocolate brown tones melted in relief.
"Are you okay?" he asked, helping me to my feet "You weren't responding to anything."
"I'm..." I pressed a hand to my forehead. "I'm fine... I guess just a little lightheaded. It's been a long day."
Everything was fine. I was fine. Suppose the gods wanted to throw more crap at me, fine. The nightmares, now the headaches.
Cassandra was staring at me, her veil hiding any indication of what she was thinking. She suspected something, obviously, which really wasn't that surprising considering she was a prophetess. This was all just fine.
"Perhaps you should lie down," Paris said. There was no rush, no lightheadedness, though I couldn't recall why I was on the ground in the first place. Aside from the pulsing headache, anyway. "Is there a room for Alexis prepared?"
"Why should I lie down?" I mumbled, though neither of them heard me.
"I'll have a slave escort her, but you must go speak to our parents again, Paris. The anax is preparing a grand party in your honour." Cassandra considered me again through the veil. She made me uncomfortable like she knew everything about me even though we'd just met. "You must tread carefully as well, Alexis. Your future is hidden from me, which is worrisome. The gods must have something in store for you."
"Sure. Careful. Got it," I nodded, glancing at Paris. "Easy-peasy."
"I don't think leaving you is such a good idea," Paris said, his hand resting against my elbow.
He was worried, a twist of doubt in his gaze. I gave him a reassuring smile. "I can take care of myself, Paris, don't you worry. Go make amends with your family."
A flurry of emotions warred on his face, but when Cassandra moved to his side, he squeezed my hand. "Are you sure you'll be okay? I can speak with them later."
"I'm sure," I said, nudging his arm. "Now, go. I'm in good hands but if I get lost, I'll send up a flare."
The look of confusion made me laugh as I waved him off. He had a way of making me feel instantly better.
"Go. I'll see you later, Alexandros."
His nostrils flared in annoyance, but the smile indicated he wasn't really mad. He was too good for his own good.
As the shepherd prince and priestess wandered away, I dropped my gaze to the floor. Now that my perfect distraction was gone, Cassandra's words tumbled around in my head. She had no idea how spot-on she was about the damn gods. And I threw caution to the wind five minutes after arriving here. I thought I was smarter than that, but avoiding any butterfly effect moments proved almost impossible.
My feet moved without me realizing it. I was so turned around in this palace, but I had no real destination in mind anyway.
Until a familiar, grating voice cut through my thoughts.
"Where are you off to in such a hurry?"
I whirled around so suddenly that I almost smacked into Athena. She was a lot closer than I'd thought. And just as beautiful as always, which was still infuriating.
"You have a lot of nerve showing your face," I snapped, resisting the urge to shove her. "What do you want?"
"Calm down, firecracker," Athena said, raising her hands in surrender. "I come in peace."
The small smirk she had plastered on her face meant she was here to toy with me some more.
"Go away, Athena. I've had enough of your antics. I've found a way home, and I don't need your help anymore."
"Oh, yes, I've heard." Athena rolled her eyes. "Aphrodite, that goodie-two-shoes. Whatever she promised you, you're still in the game, and all the help she can give will only get you so far."
"Yeah, well, I'd still stick with her over you any day," I pointed out. "So, leave. Me. Alone."
"I've only come by to remind you about the ticking time clock," Athena said, twirling a lock of my hair with her finger. "You're here playing house with prince charming, taking your sweet time, but those nightmares are pretty bad, hm? And the memory loss, tsk tsk."
Memory loss?
"You've made it clear that I'm not getting home until this game is done," I snapped. My patience was wearing thin. "If you came here to get a reaction out of me, forget it. I'm done with your crap."
Athena's fingers tightened around my hair, and a stab of pain pulsed in my head. She wasn't used to being talked back to, apparently. "If that's what you want, I won't make this easy for you, little girl. Tick, tock, Alexis."
Just like that, she was gone.
Without her support, I staggered forward, my heart racing as I scanned the hall. There wasn't another soul around, but Athena's threat and her presence still lingered.