Chapter 2 Women's Labors

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That night Menelaus held a grand feast, to welcome the Trojan princes to Sparta. We sat at a large table surrounded by many Mycenaean nobles, who were utterly loyal to Menelaus and his brother all the way in Mycenae. Almost no Spartan noblemen sat at this table. Food was spread out before us, there was roasted pig, the best olives picked from our lands. Various fruits and cheeses. Along with baskets of fresh baked bread. Enough to feed our people for months. Servants were carrying jugs of sweet wine and ale, filling up everyone's cups. Menelaus sat at the center of the table, I was to his right. Prince Hector was to his left. It was the prince Paris who sat next to me. Pollux sat across from me. I could only pick at the food that was on my plate. My appetite was gone. I knew that the people of Sparta were starving underneath Menelaus' rule. And here was all this food that could feed them. It made me angry at the waste. I also was sore, Menelaus had come to my chambers before the feast with Delia in tow. He was still angry about what he had seen in the throne room. He had shaken me so hard, there were bruises forming on my arms. Ones I had tried to hide with my shawl, but it was no use. So they stained my arms for all to see. My body was also increasingly sore, though I attributed that to my pregnancy being in the later stages. Both Hector and Paris had changed from their armor into simple tunics and cloaks. Paris was even more handsome then he was in the throne room. He took my breath away, though I did not understand why. He was just another dignitary who would leave after their business was done. Though I hoped that Pollux had warned them about Menelaus' plan to keep them here while Agamemnon attempted to conquer their city. Paris looked over at me with a smile on his face. He looked like a kind and gentle man. Traits that my husband knew nothing about. Traits that Menelaus did not have. He did not have a heart, it was made of stone.

"So tell us Prince Paris about your amazing story. How did you come discover that you were the lost prince of Troy," Menelaus boomed. He was already roaring drunk. He was like this at feasts. And often he would go to Delia's chambers and spend nights making love to her. Though I did not know how Delia could love such a man. Paris moved his gaze from mine to my husband's.

"I was found as a newborn at the foot of Mount Ida by a shepherd and his wife. I was raised for 24 years by this shepherd and his wife, they gave me my name... Paris. One day, I found the princes of Troy racing on the beach. I decided to challenge them to a race. I won that race on the beach, they then challenged me to a boxing match at the city games. Games that were a celebration to my memory. I accepted that challenge and my parents and I traveled to Troy. I beat every prince until I went up against Hector. While I was fighting him, my tunic was ripped and my birthmark was revealed. King Priam stopped the games, and they discovered that their long lost prince had returned," Paris said. Taking a sip from his cup.

"Why did they abandon you in the first place," Pollux asked. Looking over at Hector and then over at his younger brother. I wondered that too. Why would any parent abandon their child? Paris shrugged his shoulders and finished his cup of wine. A servant came over to pour more wine. He gave her a kind smile. Nothing about this man seemed princely. He very much seemed like a shepherd. But he also seemed confident and determined. Traits I greatly admired.

"They would not tell me why. They said it had something to do with a prophecy. A prophecy that never came to pass. Both Priam and Hecuba are just thankful that I survived my infancy. Now a year later I am a prince learning what it means to be a prince," Paris replied. I looked over at Hector who had a tight smile on his lips. I knew that he was hiding something. Something he did not wish Paris to know about this prophecy. Menelaus soon grew bored of his story and moved on to one of his own. Paris turned his gaze back to mine. I tried to hide the blush staining my cheeks once again. 

"May I say, you are glowing, your grace. I pray that the child is healthy and strong. And that you both survive the labors," Paris said. I looked over at my husband, who was too busy with Hector to notice what Paris was saying to me.

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