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As they stepped off the ship, Helen held onto Paris’ hand so tightly that her knuckles went white. Once they were safely on land, she quickly let go and wiped them on her chiton. Just as fast as she’d wiped the sweat off, it was back again. She looked at the floor, but he was still looking at her.
“Where do we go now?” she asked, hoping to move his attention from her face to elsewhere. Anywhere.
He looked towards the giant walls of the city. The gates were wide open but plains in front of Troy were empty, as was the beach where they had docked. “Honestly, I hardly know my way around this place myself. I’m assuming my father will be waiting for us. Me. Us. It doesn’t matter.”
It matters. Helen laughed nervously. “He has no idea?”
“None.” Paris smiled. “This will be a great, pleasant surprise for him.”
I wouldn’t call it pleasant. Helen pulled the white veil over her head. There was no need to act here, in Troy, but her hair would still draw too much unwanted attention from the people. Her heart beat irregularly all the way up in her throat.
“Ready?” he asked and extended a hand.
Helen smiled and took it, briefly looking back to the vast open ocean. There were no ships following them. Yet. But Paris’ advisor stared at her with murder in his eyes.
Helen quickly looked back at the floor, the corners of her lips dropping. What are you doing? Breathing deeply, she looked towards the Gates of Troy. “Ready.”
It felt like the way from the beach to the gates had taken hours, and yet they arrived too soon. The world was spinning and stars danced in front of Helen’s eyes as heat and cold washed over her in regular intervals. Fearing she’d collapse, Helen fastened her grip on Paris’ hand. He stroked her hand with his thumb.
She inhaled deeply in front of the gate. “I’m scared.”
Paris tilted her head to her and leaned in. “You don’t have to be. They’ll all love you.” He stroked her face, smilingly, and took a loose strand of her golden hair into his hand. “With a face like yours, how could they not?”
Helen smiled and a tear fell onto her cheek. She quickly wiped it off, before Paris could, and hid her hair behind the veil in the process. She’d made a mistake. She shouldn’t be here. “Let’s go.”
As they neared the looming walls, Helen’s knees went weak. She felt like she was approaching the gates of Hades and not Troy. She felt sick.
Paris squeezed her hand a final time before letting go and entering Troy. The crowds had gathered on either side of the group that stood centered in front of the gate, held back by guards. Judging by their clothes and posture it was the royal family in the center. A large royal family. Helen didn’t recognize any of them but she assumed the man and woman standing up front were King Priam and Queen Hecuba, just behind them the crown prince Hector. The king and queen gaped at Helen as Paris kissed the ring on his father’s hand. Hector just frowned.
He was the first in the entire crowd to speak. “Welcome home, Alexander. We heard your trip had been cut short due to a spontaneous visit King Menelaus had to attend to?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Paris reclaimed his spot at Helen’s side and took her hand.
Hector squinted at her before sighing deeply and muttering under his breath. “Who have you brought with you?”
Paris stood straight. “My betrothed.”
“Your— By Apollo.” Hector rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Paris, we sent you on a diplomatic mission, not on a romantic getaway. What are you doing?”
A whimper came from behind Hector. He turned and Helen’s attention shifted to the source—a curly-haired woman stood behind Hector, her hand covered her mouth. A princess. Her expression was that of utmost agony as she stared unwaveringly at Helen. She looked like the man beside her, holding on to her, was the only thing keeping her from pouncing at Helen.
Hector took a step in her direction. “Cassandra …”
She cried out before he could continue. “She’s the doom of Troy, Hector, listen to me. Paris has brought us our doom, just like every oracle, every prophecy, has foretold. Send her away, I’m begging you.” Helen’s eyes ripped open. Her knees buckled.
“Cassandra, enough .”
“Lord Apollo has told me! Why won’t you believe me?” She burst into tears and the man holding her arm pulled her towards himself. They looked similar and extremely close in age. Helen assumed they were twins. Inseparable, just like herself and Clytemnestra and Castor and Pollux. How could you leave them?
Helen dug her nails into the palm of her hand, grounding herself in the present. Hector had turned back to Paris and Helen. He put his hand to his chest. “I apologize on behalf of my sister. Hospitality to us is of utmost importance. We will not be sending you away.” He glanced at the king as he spoke, but all the king was able to muster was a nod. Helen simply returned the nod. If she opened her mouth to speak, she’d be sick.
Paris spoke instead. “With all due respect, Hector, I am going to marry her if it kills me. You can’t stop me.”
“Who said I wanted to stop you?” Hector responded, opening his arms welcomingly. “Unless there is a reason I should?”
Paris stepped back and seemed to shrink beside Helen.
“Who is she, Paris? No mortal could look like her without divine blood. Whose daughter is she?”
Helen looked towards Paris but his face had turned ashen. He wasn’t going to respond. She cleared her throat. “I am the daughter of Zeus.” Hector’s eyes widened. “My mother is Leda.”
“Leda …” Hector’s eyes flitted between Paris and Helen as realization dawned on his face. “Paris, you … you scoundrel !”
“Hector!” King Priam glared at his son, who immediately composed himself.
“Father, he’s kidnapped Menelaus’ wife. He and his brother have been looking for an excuse to start a war anyway and … now he has one.”
“She was promised to me by Lady Aphrodite. It was my right to—“
“He … He didn’t kidnap me. I came with him. And … the gold is also from me.” They would find out about the gold sooner or later. It was better he heard it from her than anyone else.
He huffed ironically. “There’s gold too? Olympus’ sake … And you seriously think it matters to Menelaus that you ‘came’ with that nitwit?” Hector scoffed. “He doesn’t even care about you.”
Tears stung Helen’s eyes. He had no idea what he was talking about. Foolish girl . Why was she crying over Menelaus? She was with Paris now, Menelaus’ opinion didn’t matter. She left him. She shouldn’t care.
“Hector, stop . You’re not king yet, you don’t make the decisions, I do.” The king extended his arm to Helen. She took it and bowed down to kiss it but he pulled it away before he could. “I speak on behalf of not only my family but also my people when I say we’d be glad to have you here at Troy. You have my blessing to marry my son and when you do, you will become a part of the family and will be treated as such by all.”
A tear of relief onto her cheek and she pressed her lips against each other to suppress a whimper. “Thank you.” She could hardly hear her own voice.
“As you wish, father,” Hector said, his voice strained. Helen glanced at him briefly—she still felt his glare on her skin. When she turned to him, he looked away, to a guard standing beside him. She overheard his orders. “Shut the gates and increase the patrols on the walls. Expect to see ships on the horizon soon.”