by R. D. Brady
Chapter 29
That evening, Helen sat drumming her fingers on the long dining room table. “Enough. Tell Mariel we are ready to begin.”
“We are not waiting for the prince?” Hermione asked.
“No, my dear. He is late. And we do not wait for people.” Apparently the prince’s thanks did not involve the courtesy of showing up for meals on time.
Two hours later, Helen and Hermione walked together in the courtyard again. Paris had never shown up for dinner, and Helen was quite glad for it. Hermione had become quite the storyteller, and Helen couldn’t remember when she’d enjoyed a dinner more. But it had also been bittersweet, because she knew her mother would have loved to have seen the young woman Hermione was growing into. Hermione was adventurous, daring, smart, kind, and fair. Everything a future queen of Sparta should be. I wish you were here, Mother.
Hermione grinned up at her. “And then the princess scaled the side of the castle and slew the dragon. And all the town sang her praises in song and poem for years and years.”
Helen clapped. “Well done.”
“Yes, very well done,” a male voice said.
Helen turned, her eyes narrowing as a man approached. He was undeniably beautiful. He had dark hair highlighted by the sun, skin similarly touched by the sun, and bright blue eyes. He wore a blue tunic, with a paler blue underneath, no doubt to bring out the color in his eyes. He was muscular, but not overly so. He was untouched by battle. All in all, he looked like the man-boy Helen had expected him to be.
Paris stopped in front of her and made a deep bow. “Queen Helen.”
Helen tilted her head. “Prince Paris. We missed you at dinner.”
“Yes. Time got away from me.”
“I will have my staff prepare you and your men a plate,” Helen said, taking in the four men that followed behind the prince. Unlike him, these men showed the scars of a few battles, although Helen still got a sense of weakness from them. Of course, they weren’t Spartan, and Spartan-trained men were the only men she didn’t sense weakness in.
Paris’s eyes roamed over Helen. “The tales of your beauty have not been exaggerations. If anything, they have undersold the heavenly nature of your face.”
Helen struggled not to roll her eyes. “Thank you. Now if you’ll—”
“This must be your daughter. I see she will one day be as beautiful as her mother.”
Helen narrowed her eyes as Paris’s gaze traveled over Hermione in much the same way it had her. She stilled the urge to pull Hermione behind her, to block her from the man’s view. Only her training kept her voice even. “I hope the repairs to your ship are going well.”
Paris waved a hand. “Oh, we should be ready to set sail by the morning, noon at the latest.”
Helen felt a sense of relief. She did not like this preening prince, and the sooner he was gone, the better. “Well, perhaps next time you will be able to stay for a longer visit. And I do hope you will be able to join us for a meal in the morning before you leave.”
Paris gave another deep bow, one hand touching the floor. “It would be my greatest pleasure.”
Oh gods, save me. Gently she took Hermione’s arm and pulled her away. “Until tomorrow then.”
“Yes, my queen,” Paris replied.
As they walked away, Hermione glanced back at the prince and whispered, “He’s still there. I do not like him.”
“Me either. But as the rulers of Sparta, it is our duty to show hospitality to all our guests—even ones we do not like. Don’t worry, he’ll be gone by morning.”
Hermione curled her arm more tightly around Helen’s. “Good. Because then it will be just you and me again.”
“Exactly as it should be.” Helen patted her daughter’s hand with a smile, but she was aware of Paris’s gaze still on her. Before she had been married, she’d had to put up with such looks from men. But since she had gotten married, they had all almost disappeared. She was out of practice.
She sighed and banished him from her thoughts. Paris was just a boy playing at being a man. And he would be gone by tomorrow. The years with Hermione were moving too quickly, and she intended to enjoy every moment.
Chapter 30
A wind blew through the balcony doors, rustling the curtains and the sheets that draped Helen’s bed. Helen breathed in deeply, looking for some peace, but she was having trouble finding it.
Her servants had reported to her that Paris had demanded a bath, and when the water wasn’t hot enough, he had demanded they lug the buckets up again. Then he had sent back his dinner twice. Darius had also found Paris’s men roaming the citadel. They claimed to be lost, but Darius had followed them quietly for a while, and concluded they were searching for something.
But most worrisome was what had been reported to her by the guard she had sent to the dock. He had informed her that Paris’s ship was undamaged. Helen had not trusted Paris from the beginning, and now she knew she’d had good reason.
After receiving these reports, she had sent Hermione to the mountain house. She had not liked the way the spoiled prince had looked at Hermione, and she did not want him around her. Hermione had balked at first, but when Helen mentioned that one of the dogs had had puppies and that Hermione could pick one for herself, Hermione could not get moving fast enough. Helen would join her tomorrow after Paris had left.
Sleep, Helen. Sleep. Tomorrow the idiot will take his leave. She closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing. She was just drifting off when footsteps on the stones outside her room alerted her. She jumped from the bed as the door flew open.
Four men stormed in, all wearing the royal colors of Troy. Paris sauntered in after them, arrogance splashed across his face. “Oh, no need to get out of bed. I was coming to join you.”
“What is the meaning of this? I demand you leave my room at once,” Helen said, even as her hand reached for the staff she kept leaning against the wall of her room.
Paris smiled. “Oh, I don’t think so. I think you and I are going to have some fun.”
Helen captured his gaze and smiled. “Oh, I think one of us is going to have some fun.”
She twirled the staff in her hand, then swung it wide, catching one of Paris’s guards in the face. A second guard lunged for her, but Helen stepped out of the way and slammed the staff on the back of his head, knocking him out cold. The third guard tried to grab her from behind, but got only a staff in the groin and then his face for his troubles.
The fourth was a little smarter than the other three. He held back, pulling a knife from the rope at his waist.
Helen smiled at the sight. “Tsk, tsk. Mine’s bigger than yours.”
The man lunged. Helen twirled out of the way and slammed her staff down on his outstretched arm, breaking his wrist. Then she swung the staff up into the man’s neck, and when his eyes went wide and he grabbed for his throat, she brought the staff down on the back of his head. He fell to his knees and pitched forward.
Paris scrambled back for the door, but Helen wasn’t about to let him escape. She swung the staff at his knees, sweeping his legs out from under him. He rolled onto his back, his hands up in surrender, and Helen pressed the end of her staff against his Adam’s apple.
“How. Dare. You.” She pushed the staff in further.
Paris gagged. “Wait, wait—if you kill me, you kill your daughter.”
Helen stilled, her eyes narrowing. “What did you say?”
Paris slid along the floor so the staff was no longer at his neck. “Hermione—in the last few months, your household has been sprinkled with people who are just waiting for my command. Their first job will be to kill her, and then your sons.”
Anger, pure and white, tore through Helen. She spoke through gritted teeth, stepping forward, the staff once again at his neck. “I will kill you.”
Paris kept his hands raised. His voice was shaky when he spoke. “You kill me, and you kill all your children.”
Helen wanted nothing more than to end this man�
�s miserable, pathetic life. But she couldn’t help but think of all the people who surrounded her children every day. She thought she could trust them, but… there was always a new face in her household, which meant there was always a new threat. The idea of her children being in danger enraged her until she was shaking.
But she knew she could not take a chance with her children’s lives. She released the pressure on Paris’s neck and stepped back.
Paris, his hands to his throat, glared at her as he climbed to his feet. “You will regret that.”
“Letting you live? Yes, I’m sure I will.”
“You Spartans, you always think you’re tough. But one threat on your children and—”
Helen’s staff came up lightning quick, stopping an inch from his cheek. All Paris had the time to do was widen his eyes. “And how do I know you’re telling the truth?” Helen asked, tapping his cheek. “What’s to say I shouldn’t kill you right now and all of this goes away?”
“You kill me, they die.”
Helen stepped forward menacingly.
Paris scrambled back, speaking quickly. “Your daughter—her favorite toy is a bunny Castor carved for her. Your boys love archery and playing in the wine cellar.” Paris rattled off fact after fact about her children. And with each word that fell from his mouth, Helen’s fear and anger increased. He was telling the truth. He had somehow placed people within her household.
The guards on the floor behind her groaned. Paris’s gaze flicked toward them.
Helen’s voice was steel. “They won’t be able to protect you from me if I decide to kill you.”
“But you can’t kill me.” Arrogance crept back into Paris’s face. “Because you know I’m telling you the truth.”
Choking back her anger, Helen spoke through gritted teeth. “What do you want?”
“I want you, Helen.”
Disgust washed over Helen. “Lay a finger on me and I will make you a eunuch.”
Paris’s face grew red. “If I say—”
“What do you want, Paris? Because if it’s to bed me, I assure you, you will not enjoy the encounter.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Maybe not. But to the world, you will look like you want to bed me. So much so that you leave your family to join me in Troy.”
Helen’s mouth fell open. “Join you in Troy? Are you mad? That will start a war.”
Paris smiled. “I know.”
Chapter 31
Paris’s throat hurt like hell, which only fed his anger. The haughty bitch thought she could win against him. Well she would learn. He had this planned out perfectly. She was under his control.
Still, doubt crept through him as she stood uncowed before him. He had pictured this whole night differently. In his mind, he’d seen his guards pull her from her bed. She had been frightened and unsure, begging him to spare her children.
But no, she had taken out all four of his guards—four!—in the time it had taken him to take three steps. Although he seethed with anger, he also felt fear. But he shoved that down. “You will act like the besotted fool, enamored of me.”
“And my children?”
“Will remain safe so long as you do what I say.”
Helen narrowed her eyes. “If anything happens to them—”
“If anything happens to me, you will be responsible for what happens to them. Remember that.”
His guards were getting to their feet, and Helen positioned herself where she could keep an eye on them. Just like a soldier.
Just like he’d been warned.
His embarrassment made his voice sound harsh. “Two guards will be left with you to make sure you contact no one.”
Helen raised an eyebrow at him and spoke in a bored tone. “And if I decide to simply kill the guards and send a note?”
“You will not!” Paris screamed. He took a breath. “I am in charge. You need to learn that.”
She smiled sweetly. “And are you planning on teaching me?”
“No. But maybe I’ll let one of my guards teach your children first.”
Helen was across the room in a flash, a knife held to Paris’s throat. Where had the knife even come from? The blue eyes that minstrels sang about and compared to a perfect sky stared into Paris’s own eyes with the promise of death. “One hair on their head and I will end you—painfully.”
He swallowed. Tears sprang to his eyes at the pain of her grip on his arm, and he knew she was not exaggerating. She would do it. “That—that’s up to you—their safety. Do what I say and they will be unharmed.”
Helen stared at him, and for a breath, he thought she was going to do it. She was going to kill him. Then, with a growl, she pushed him away. “Fine. I will go with you.”
“And you will play the besotted fool.”
She inspected him from foot to face, her lip curling. “As much as I am able.”
Heat flooded his face. “We leave in the morning. And half of your treasury will accompany us.”
“The treasury? You little—”
“Half the treasury. You will convince the staff that it is your choice to go with me. Is that clear?”
Helen glared. “Perfectly.”
He waited, wanting to see fear in her face. But she gave him nothing.
“Is there anything else?” she asked.
“No.” He nodded to two of his guards, who were giving the queen a wary look. “You two stay with her.” Then he turned and stormed from the room, the other two guards following him.
She would learn her place, he told himself. Once they were back in Troy, she would learn to fear him. After all, he had the gods on his side.
Chapter 32
Helen barely slept that night. Her mind was racing, trying to come up with a way to protect the children without having to go along with Paris. But she always came back to the same conclusion: with the children spread out, she could not guarantee their safety. And she would not risk their lives. So by the time dawn began to creep across the horizon, she had resigned herself to her fate.
She crawled from her bed, ignoring the hulking guards by the door. One gave her a smirk, and she turned to him. “Look at me like that again and I will remove your eyes. I may not be able to hurt your lord, but he won’t risk whatever plan he’s concocted over the body parts of a few guards.”
The man glared, and Helen took a step toward him. The other guard grabbed the man’s arm and shook his head. Both men then stared at the floor.
Helen took a seat at her desk and began to write notes, setting everything up for her departure. An hour later, she handed them to the guard. “These need to be delivered immediately.”
The guard shook his head. “Prince Paris said—”
“Prince Paris intends to leave this morning with the queen of Sparta and half the treasury of my home. That will not magically occur. Take the notes to Paris and have him read them, but then have them delivered so we can get this farce started.”
The guard bowed. “Yes, ma’am.”
He pulled open the door just as Adorna pushed it open from the other side. Adorna let out a shriek at the sight of the two men. The guard who was leaving nodded at her as he passed. The other continued to stare at the ground.
“Mistress?” Adorna asked.
Helen spoke wearily as she headed for her dressing room. “It’s fine, Adorna. They’re Paris’s men. I will be joining him this morning when he sets sail.”
“What? Why?”
Helen’s voice was without an ounce of emotion. “I am in love, Adorna. And I cannot bear to be without my beloved.”
Adorna went still, looking between Helen and the guard. “Yes, I see. Well, let me help you pack.”
Chapter 33
It was early afternoon by the time the ship was ready to go, loaded with Helen’s things and half the treasury. Helen felt sick. All day she had professed her love for Paris to all who could hear her. But she knew Menelaus didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve this. She stared at Paris as he walked down the dock tow
ard his ship. And that man certainly doesn’t deserve this.
She hadn’t been left alone all day; the guards watched her every move and inspected each room after she left it. They were clearly making sure she could not leave a note telling her brothers or husband about what had happened to her, or warning them about the danger to the children. She desperately wanted to leave a message, and had composed notes over and over in her mind, but she could not chance one of Paris’s guards finding it.
She had also been debating what to do with the ring. She couldn’t leave it behind, because she did not know who would go through her things. But she was loath to bring it with her to Troy, where she knew she could trust no one. For now, it was tucked into a pocket sewn into her dress.
Adorna, who Helen felt was the only person on her staff she could trust, had decided she was going with her. Helen had tried to get her to stay, but Adorna would hear none of it. “I have been by your side since you were a babe. And if you are planning on going through with this idiocy, then I will be by your side for it as well.”
“It is not idiocy. I am—”
“In love,” Adorna said dryly. “Yes, you’ve mentioned it—repeatedly. And I don’t buy it for one minute.”
Helen’s eyes went wide.
“I won’t say anything. But remember—whatever I can do, I will do.”
Helen nodded and let her facade drop for just a moment. “Thank you, Adorna.”
Now Helen clutched Adorna’s arm as they headed for Paris’s ship. It was a floating palace, ostentatious and gaudy, just like its owner. And in that moment the gravity of what she was doing hit Helen like a wave. She was publicly breaking her vows to her husband. Privately, she was leaving her children in danger. Her knees buckled.
Adorna wrapped a strong arm around her waist. “I’ve got you, child.”
Helen held on to her and steadied herself. Then she walked onto the ship and away from everything she loved.