Twenty-Five

I returned to the hall, wincing when the densely humid air touched my skin. The guests didn't seem to notice thanks to the constant supply of wine, food and music. The Trojans knew how to party.

Wading through the throngs of people, I made my way back to the head table. Priam had abandoned the table, mingling with his guests. Hecuba surveyed her party like a noble statue—though I noticed her fingers thrumming in time with the lively music. She was alone.

Frowning, I scanned the hall. "Have you seen where Paris went?"

The queen's slender eyebrows knitted together, her crystal eyes glossing over the attendees. "No. He's enjoying himself, I'm sure. He deserves it." Her gaze found me and she patted the seat beside her. "Come. Sit with me."

I hesitated. Thus far, the king and queen had kept their distance, though I had caught Hecuba watching me with subtle curiosity. As a queen, she was far too dignified to let her personal feelings get in the way of her duties, even if it was in regards to her children.

Now, however, it was just the two of us. Slowly, I eased myself down. Unable to relax, I perched on the edge of the seat, hands folded on my lap.

"How are you enjoying Ilios?" the queen asked.

"Oh." My eyes roamed the hall, the question unexpected. "It's lovely, though I haven't seen much outside the palace."

"Perhaps I can give you a tour after my sons depart."

Her words settled over me like an itchy blanket. She included Paris so easily in her statement. Of everyone, Hecuba had been the quickest to accept her younger son. But that wasn't what caught my attention. It was the implication that she didn't mean for me to go to Greece.

"Uh, that is a nice offer but I will be in Greece," I began, only to be silenced as the queen raised a hand.

"You believe that we would let you travel to Greece with our son?" she scoffed. "It is improper for an unwed woman to be in the company of an unwed man. What would the Greeks think? Paris does not need any negative assumptions attached to him, nor any distractions."

"Excuse me," I baulked, though the queen lifted her chin.

"It is best if you stay here. Should marriage really be what Paris desires, then I will assist you in the ways of becoming a proper Trojan wife."

"M-marriage?" My face turned scarlet as the word sputtered out of my mouth. Marriage. Honestly. But if she was preventing me from leaving, then I had bigger problems to contend with. I needed to find Paris.

Hecuba was smiling theatrically as if we were having a conversation about something frivolous, like shopping. "Everyone will come around, I assure you. Of course, your status is an issue, but Paris does seem to really care for you and I should honour his desires—"

I leapt to my feet, the room spinning with a dramatic twirl. "Excuse me, I-I need some air. Good talk."

Appalled, Hecuba didn't have the chance to stop me as I scampered away from the table. Hecuba couldn't prevent me from leaving. She had no right...

My steps slowed. Of course, she did. Women didn't have many rights. They were more property than anything. I was foolish to think I was above the rules simply because I was from a different time. Hecuba was only doing what she thought was right, and she was doing right by her son. Presenting him with a newly minted Alexis was her way of doing so.

Not that any of that mattered. I still needed to find a way onto the boat. I would not be stranded in Troy, doomed to be a complacent wife. Hands rolling into determined fists, I pushed through the crowd, searching for that familiar flop of dark hair and lean frame. There was no sign of Paris.

After scouring the room, I broke out onto a balcony outside. The cool evening air provided another bout of relief, this time cooling the panic that ripped its way through my chest. I swiped a hand across my brow. The balcony opened to the front of the palace. I still couldn't get over the beauty of the sky. Free of any light pollution, the stars were out in full force. Dazzling clusters, twinkling lights that were stitched into the velvety sky. The biggest gem was the moon, the cold white light casting eerie shadows across the garden.

I spread my hands out on the stone railing and hunched my shoulders, dragging in slow, deep breaths. The cool air helped ease the angry energy boiling within, though my head spun with disastrous thoughts. Like what would happen if I were stranded in Anatolia? Greece was where Mount Olympus was located (presumably), which meant my chances of getting home were better there.

Aside from the lively music that wafted out from the party, outside was quiet and still—still enough that any slight movement drew attention. Like two men slipping into the twisted shadows of the garden. The light outside was dim, but I knew without a doubt one of them was Paris.

A warning sounded in my mind and my body was moving before my mind caught up. Fortunately, the hall was situated on the main floor of the palace, and there was an entryway from the balcony leading into the garden. The inky shadows enveloped me as I plunged into the garden. Something told me to tread carefully,

The further we moved away from the party, the darker and quieter it grew. I all but walked on my tiptoes as I followed them. They were speaking, though they were too far to pick up on anything useful. I recognized the lilting voice of the second man, only I couldn't quite place where from. Paris' slurring, though, was easily identifiable. The conversation sounded innocent enough, almost personal. If I didn't have that dreadful feeling in my gut, I would have been embarrassed spying on Paris like that.

The dark was like oil, thick and opaque. I couldn't see anything. The toe of my sandals kept catching on stones or uneven ground. One particular stub elicited a white hot pain in my little toe. I sucked in a sharp breath and when I looked up, the silhouettes of Paris and the stranger were gone.

Cue the flurry of lanterns igniting in the courtyard.

They were sitting on an ornate, stone bench, almost on top of each other. Paris leaned heavily against the other man, who turned out to be the man from earlier. The one who had asked Paris to dance. The one who knew my name. He had an arm casually draped over the prince's shoulders, his free hand resting on Paris' thigh.

"I thought I heard someone following us," he said in his smooth, charming voice.

A light appeared next to the young man, illuminating his breathtaking features. Again, I was struck by how delicately handsome and young he appeared. The wreath of grapes hung among rave-coloured waves of hair.

"Don't hide in the dark, silly girl," the young man chided, stroking Paris' cheek. "There is plenty of room on the bench for all of us."

I stepped into the light and tried my best to look fierce, which was a lot harder to do when drunk and staring at a god. Literally. I had a growing suspicion I knew who the man was.

"Alexis!" Paris' glazed eyes lit up. He untangled himself from the god though remained seated. "Come, I was just getting to know–" He waved his hand at the young man, "—what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't," the young man purred, cupping Paris' chin. Their lips were so close... "Ah, smell that delicious aroma. You have really been feeling the bliss tonight, haven't you, sweet prince?"

"So, what, you're looking to fondle a prince?" I asked, coolly. "You know, where I come from, you need consent and being drunk means he's not exactly in his right mind to be making decisions." I crossed my arms. "So, why don't you let me take care of him and you be on your merry way."

"While it's true, I was drawn to him, it's only in my nature." The young man's lips curled in a mischievous way. One that was both enticing and unsettling. "And, this time is not quite like yours. The game's a little different. But then, you've probably noticed that already, haven't you?"

"So, what, all the gods are lining up to mock me now?" I shot back, "yeah, I know who you are. Dionysus." His smile only widened.

"You are clever, but wrong. This was purely coincidental." His hand wandered down Paris' neck and the prince indulged him by tilting his head back. "I did say I was drawn to a good party, especially one in my honour. And, I'm drawn to a certain kind of aroma. One that is positively delicious and chaotic." He leaned in and brushed his nose against Paris' skin. Paris moaned, his eyes fluttering shut. "When they lose themselves to the festive madness, it's just... well, you wouldn't understand."

"Alright, well, I don't care what you're into, but you're going to leave Paris alone," I said, drawing closer. "I've had enough of you gods messing with everything."

"Oh, please, I'm not interested in this little game Athena and Zeus have going on." Dionysus rolled his eyes. "I have plenty to keep me entertained with the way the Greeks and Trojans devour wine. There's nothing more thrilling than watching humans succumb to the madness and throw themselves at my feet. Although, we've all heard of the unfortunate girl who was thrown here from her time and now that I've seen you, I can see what all the fuss is about. Given the chaos you've been causing, maybe we can play a game of our own, hm?"

He stood swiftly and was suddenly right beside me. Paris slumped forward, barely holding himself up. I took a step towards him, but Dionysus' hand coiled around my arm, holding me in place. His breath brushed my ear, sending involuntary shivers down my spine.

"You were almost at that ecstatic point as well," he whispered, "the tipping point where you succumb to bliss. What's to stop you from going there again, hm? Is it seeing your precious prince in such a vulnerable position?" He pulled away and, in the blink of an eye, stood behind Paris. His hand ran down the prince's shoulder towards his chest. "Or is that you can't stand to see me with him? Your feelings must be so difficult, knowing what you have to do and what you want. It all boils down to how badly you want to go home."

"Stop it," I said, my voice trembling. I'd never thought Dionysus was anything more than a glorified party animal. He was the god of wine and chaos. On paper, it seemed frivolous. In person, he was terrifying. "Just leave us alone."

"Oh, where's that fight?" his tone was mocking. "You were so feisty before, what happened?" His long fingers slid under the collar of Paris' outfit. Paris' head rested against Dionysus' stomach. "He's your weakness... something you need to overcome. If you're going to get home you need to be ruthless otherwise we'll tear you to shreds. But I think I can help you with that."

"I think that's quite enough," barked a familiarly harsh voice. "I swear, Dionysus, you cause more trouble than your worth."

And, if you wouldn't believe it, Athena stepped out of the shadows.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.