𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒔

𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐘, 𝐂𝐈𝐑𝐂𝐀 𝟏𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐁.𝐂 🏛️

As the sun's first rays spill over the walls of Troy, I feel the gentle warmth on my skin, a familiar embrace that wakes me with the day. The soft rustle of the curtains, stirred by the morning breeze, fills my chamber, and for a moment, I linger in the quiet comfort of my thoughts. I am Sabryna Calthion, though to most, I am simply the daughter of one of Troy's noble families. But behind the name, I am just a girl with hopes as delicate as the petals that fall in our gardens. I'm small in stature, hardly five feet, yet my heart feels too full sometimes, brimming with dreams and feelings I don't always know how to express. My hair, golden and soft, tumbles down my back in gentle waves, with curled bangs framing my face like a golden halo. My blue eyes—at least I've been told—are lively, always searching, always curious. They reflect the hopes I hold for the future, a future where I might not only be known as a noblewoman but as a woman who dares to follow her heart.

Today feels different. It carries an undercurrent of excitement and unease. Prince Hector is returning. I haven't seen him in years, not since I was that shy girl who used to follow him around like a shadow, hoping he might notice me. I'd watch him from the edges of the courtyard, just beyond the reach of the sun, careful to stay out of sight. There was something about him—something that made me feel connected, even in my youth.

Our families have always been close. My father, Aelios, has served King Priam for as long as I can remember, his words carrying weight in matters of war and counsel. My mother, Lyra, is gentle, always with a soft smile and healing hands. When Hector was injured during one of the early battles, it was my mother who nursed him back to health, her kindness leaving a lasting impression on all of us.

As children, Hector and his brother Paris would visit our home, though those days seem like a dream now. Back then, Hector was larger than life to me. I admired him, of course—what girl wouldn't? He was kind and strong, with a quiet confidence that made him seem invincible. I was twelve when I first realized that what I felt for him wasn't just admiration. It was more. But I was too young to grasp the depth of it, and before I could, he was gone—off to fight for Troy, leaving me behind with only my growing feelings and the stories of his victories.

Now, I'm twenty-three. Time has passed, and though I've grown, that part of me that admired him so deeply hasn't changed. But how could it? He's been away for so long, and in his absence, I've tried to become the woman my family needs me to be. I've learned the arts of healing from my mother and the virtues of patience from my father. I've cared for our home and spent countless hours in the gardens, where the scent of jasmine follows me like a faithful companion.

Today, though, there's a flutter in my chest—a small hope that perhaps, when Hector returns, he might see me not as the girl I was, but as the woman I've become. Not that I expect anything grand. I know he's a prince, and I am just Sabryna, the daughter of a noble family. But still...perhaps there's something more between us, something that even time and distance couldn't erase. As I prepare for the day, my handmaidens braid my hair with flowers from the garden, their laughter light and carefree. Their joy is infectious, but it's not long before a familiar voice bursts into my chamber, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Sabryna! You're going to be the most beautiful girl at the celebration!" Chapheris Rhoania exclaims, her energy filling the room like sunlight. With a whirlwind of excitement, she rushes in, her long, spiral curls of ginger red hair cascading around her shoulders, shimmering like copper in the morning light. Her vibrant green eyes spark with mischief, and I can almost see the anticipation radiating from her.

"Have you seen the preparations? The streets are lined with flowers, and I heard the finest musicians will play! I can't wait to see Hector and Paris!" She twirls around the room, her flowing dress swirling around her, leaving me breathless. "And can you believe the rumors? Everyone's been saying how handsome Hector and Paris have become! We must dance, Sabryna! We must celebrate!" Her words tug at my heart, filling me with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. "Calm down, Chapheris," I laugh, trying to rein in her exuberance. "You'll wear yourself out before the festivities even begin."

"Oh, but who can contain themselves with such excitement?" she says, her eyes sparkling. "I've heard whispers of Hector's bravery in battle, and Paris...oh, Paris! He's been away so long! Can you imagine? They'll be right here, in front of us!"

Chapheris's infectious energy makes me smile, but beneath the surface, my nerves twist. I glance at the mirror, catching my reflection—my hair, curled and adorned with blossoms, my simple chiton, soft against my skin, echoing my family's heritage. Yet I can't help but feel small in the shadow of the prince's glory.

"Do you think Hector will remember me?" I ask, half-joking, but the question hangs heavy in the air.

Chapheris rolls her eyes dramatically, stepping closer. "Please, Sabs. You've grown into a woman since he last saw you. I wouldn't be surprised if his eyes don't leave you for the rest of the night." Her excitement radiates as she grabs my hands. "Besides, you have me to help you catch his eye. Trust me, by the end of tonight, the princes won't know what hit them." Her words ignite a flicker of hope within me, blending with my lingering fears. Chapheris has always been the fire to my calm, eager to seize every moment. As she pulls me into a dance, the laughter between us feels like a lifeline, reminding me that I'm not alone in this.

As we twirl, I can't shake the feeling that something important is waiting for us just beyond the horizon. Perhaps today will bring a reunion with the prince I've long admired—or maybe even a chance to discover the deeper feelings that have blossomed in the space between our memories and the present.

Taking a deep breath, I step outside onto the balcony with Chapheris at my side. The sun is higher now, casting its warm light over the rooftops of Troy. The sounds of the city buzz around us, a symphony of voices and laughter, and my heart feels full of hope and nervous excitement. Yet, beneath it all, a whisper of uncertainty lingers—something bigger than the celebrations or my childish crush is on the horizon.

"You're daydreaming," Chapheris teases, her green eyes dancing with mischief. "Don't tell me you're still thinking about Hector. You know there'll be plenty of handsome faces at the feast tonight."

I laugh softly, shaking my head. "I can't help it. He's been away for so long. I just wonder if he'll even remember me."

"Trust me, Sabs," she insists. "You'll leave an impression tonight—one that even time can't erase." Her confidence makes me smile, but a nervous flutter settles in my chest. I can't deny that things are different now. We're not children anymore. But while Chapheris's thoughts drift toward the thrill of the feast and the attention of the princes, mine are rooted in something deeper—a longing that's been with me for years.

"Come on," she urges, tugging at my arm. "The city's already buzzing. Let's get you dressed properly so we can both turn heads tonight."