A Gift from the Gods

5

In exchange for her father and Hector's forgiveness, Zephyra promised to visit the temple of Apollo every day over the next week, praying for wisdom and patience. Though she hadn't technically done anything wrong. Hector joked a prediction of her choosing a life of chastity, but it was unlikely Diocles would let her. Her betrothed accompanied her to the temple and back every day, continuing the courtship process, which hadn't been going very well before, but there seemed to be a change now that they were spending more time together.

There was a kindness in Diocles that was missing from most Trojan soldiers, but like so many of them, his brute strength overshadowed his intellect. Though Diocles was raised in an educated and politically influential family, he rarely voiced his opinions and thoughts. It had taken hours of questions before Diocles felt comfortable with continuing a basic conversation. But she would still rather spend hours with a social mute than with her traitor brother.

Interactions between Paris and Zephyra had halted, and Zephyra had not even glanced Helen's way since her arrival. A war was looming, and it was their fault. So, Zephyra snuck through back hallways to traverse the palace and make her way to the stables, often asking page boys and servants to keep an eye out for Paris so she could proactively avoid him.

That morning she made her way to the palace stables without incident. Diocles had readied the horses by the time she arrived, bow and quiver strapped to her horse's saddle. Ever the gentleman, Diocles assisted Zephyra in mounting her horse, a difficult feat in her ostentatious temple attire. She must dress her best to approach Apollo's temple as a Trojan princess. She adorned a pure white toga with gold beading at the waist and an ethereal cape rested on her shoulders. It was arguably the most beautiful gift Hector had brought back for her, and it was much more elegant than the gold bands on her arms and leaflet crown in her hair.

"You look beautiful," Diocles said. His voice was deep, and Zehyra's cheeks flushed at the combination of his compliment and the gravelly texture of his voice. Maybe their relationship could work? Not that Zephyra had any choice in the matter.

Their trip to Apollo's temple was quiet and uneventful, but Zephyra was content with the simple idea of progress. An answer here, a blush there—as long as there was progress.

The sun was hot on the back of Zephyra's neck and the tops of her hands, and she had never been happier to step inside Apollo's temple. The cool air trapped inside thick stone walls was drastic in comparison to the afternoon, and the instant sense of ease could have put Zephyra to sleep on the spot. She came close a couple of times as Briseis led Zephyra in prayer.

"Cousin, you must take this seriously if it is to work," Briseis said.

"I am trying, but prayer every day in this formality is becoming tedious and tiring."

"Hector was wrong. You could never be a priestess." Briseis gave a slight smile, but it disappeared in a blink. Reverence. They had to focus on reverence.

It wasn't much longer before they were finished with morning prayers, and Zephyra was more than willing to step out into the sun for a break. But as she descended the temple steps, her adrenaline spiked. A fleet of Spartan ships were approaching the shore—Agamemnon's army with a Myrmidon flag in the lead.