Andromache pulled her long, dark hair out of her face and gently laid it over one shoulder. She sighed and leaned against the rail of her balcony, a soft breeze blowing her hair into her face once again. She muttered under her breath and pulled it back again, delicately running her petite fingers through it. She breathed deeply of the soft air only found on nights like this. The sky had never been as clear as it was that night, the bright stars glistening down on her. The light from her fire was dull, slowly creeping out of the doorway and fading. Andromache enjoyed nights like these - she found them peaceful.

She gazed down at the gardens below her, and quickly decided to go for a walk. It was frowned upon for a woman to be walking alone at night but, since Andromache was only fourteen, her father allowed it. She hurried down the stairs, not wanting to miss a moment of moonlight in the garden. As she arrived and walked through the door she grabbed a torch, so she could light the flames on the edges of the paths. However, as she began to move inside, she noticed that the garden was already lit. She returned the torch to its resting place and wandered down the stone path.

She immediately went to her favorite spot - a small clearing in the center of the garden with several benches surrounded by trees. She ran quickly to get there, but when she arrived she realized that she wasn't alone. On the bench directly across from the entrance sat Prince Hector of Troy.

The Prince had arrived a week earlier for a meeting with her father, King Eetion of Thebe. He was supposed to have left three days ago, but their ship was damaged while docking. The repairs were expected to take at least another week, so he would be staying until then. Eetion had welcomed them with opened arms and asked Hector to stay in their palace as an honored guest until they were ready to go home. Hector had humbly accepted and, with the exceptions of feasts and celebrations, mostly he kept to himself. Andromache had barely spoken to him, except for polite conversation at events or when passing him in the halls.

He saw her and immediately stood, his robes shifting in the wind. She smiled and nodded politely. "Prince Hector," she greeted.

"Princess," he replied softly, suddenly getting nervous.

Andromache stuttered, trying to figure out what she should say. "I… I'm sorry to bother you. I didn't know anyone was down here." she quickly stated. As she turned to leave, Hector called after her.

"Andromache," he called softly. She stopped and slowly turned around. "You… you don't have to go. If you want to be alone, I can go in. It's getting late anyway." He explained, silently kicking himself for sounding like an idiot. 'Good job Hector!'

"No, I disturbed you. I apologize. I-" she paused. "Would you mind company? Or would you like to be alone?" They were dancing around their words, and both felt rather silly. Andromache didn't know what it was about him that made her so nervous. He was much older than she, at least 7 or so years, and was quite the warrior. However, this wasn't what made her anxious about being around him. She didn't fear him - it was something else.

"No, please." He welcomed her. "It'd be nice to have some company." Andromache nodded and hesitantly walked towards him. She gazed at the rosebush behind him, and walked past the Prince towards it. He followed her gaze towards the flowers.

If you bond with her, she'll open up.

"You like the roses." He stated, immediately feeling too proper. He slouched down a little so he didn't seem so official – he noticed that women found it cold. Andromache met his eyes and looked back, nodding.

"The yellow ones," she told him. "I don't know why," she continued, crouching down to get a closer look. "They don't serve a purpose. We don't get anything from them. But they still strive to live. They lean towards the sun in the morning and soak up the dew during the day."

She's an idealist.

"They're beautiful." He stated, walking over to her. "They live so that someday, someone will look at them the way you're looking at them now." He explained, gazing at Andromache.

"I like to think that," she began, standing and looking up to him. "That we all have a purpose in this life." She smiled at him and looked at the floor, embarrassed.

She wants to fall in love.

"You'll find your purpose. You will." He promised. "Because these flowers, all they want is to be loved. And you love them because, well, because you want to be loved too." He was being bold and he knew it, but decided to take a chance. Andromache's eyes started straight into his. He suddenly felt nervous and looked away.

"You're different than I thought you'd be." She whispered.

"What did you think I'd be?" he asked with a small grin.

"I don't know." she trailed off, walking towards the bench and stopping in front of it, beckoning him to follow. He walked behind her in slower strides, his hands behind his back.

Keep your distance. Don't push her.

"I thought you'd be a warrior, just like all the others I know. A brute, if that's what you'd call It." she continued, sitting down and leaning back on her hands as she finished. She raised her shoulders and cocked her head to the side.

"And what do you think of me now?" he asked, sitting next to her. Andromache sat forward and rested her forearm on her leg, wrapping her other arm around and intertwining her fingers. She smiled as she stared off into the garden.

She's a little sarcastic. Try to be patient.

"I'm not sure." She teased, "But I'll let you know. What about me?"

"Still deciding." He responded sarcastically. She laughed and looked back into the garden. They sat there for a long time, just enjoying each other's company and staring at the flowers. After a while Hector broke the peaceful silence.

Ask her questions.

"How old are you?" he asked. The question wasn't urgent, so Andromache didn't find it odd.

"Fourteen." She replied honestly. He was surprised. She was very young and looked much older. "And you?" she asked.

"Twenty three." He replied. Nine years between them.

She's young, try not to make her nervous. If you do, she'll run.

"Has your father arranged a marriage for you?" she questioned, looking over at him. Hector was taken aback by her inquisitiveness. "I'm just curious." She continued, noticing him tense at her involuntary words. She trailed her head off and tried to sound lighthearted, as if to ease his discomfort. The truth was that the subject worried her as well. Hector relaxed a little, realizing she meant no harm by her words.

"No," Hector lied. "But he is upset that I've been putting it off. And you?"

"No. I'm still young yet, but Thebe needs a strong ally. My father doesn't want to marry me off too early, but he might have to. The problem is finding someone he approves of." Andromache explained.

"He has high standards?" It was a statement more than a question. She shrugged.

She might get defensive.

"I'm his only daughter. He says that I look older than I am – because I'm so tall – but he's worried that if we wait too long that there won't be anyone for me to marry." She told him.

But then again, she might start to trust you.

Andromache couldn't understand why she felt she could open up to Prince Hector, but she let it go at that moment and followed her instincts.

"Does he have anyone in mind?" Hector asked. He also couldn't understand why he was so curious about her, but he felt good being around her. She puckered her lips and shook her head.

"No. I'm starting to get worried." She admitted. "A woman is worthless without a husband."

"Andromache," he began quickly, forgetting her title. "That's not true. It's not." She was slightly surprised by his concern.

"Yes it is," she argued, standing. "We are thrown around like property. If we cannot marry what good are we to anyone else?"

"No," he replied, standing beside her. "That's not true." He repeated. "You'll find someone Andromache. I know you will."

"Do you really believe that?" she questioned. He nodded his head.

"Yes." He whispered. Andromache nodded and turned to him.

"It's getting late. I should go." She said softly, looking into his eyes.

"Would you like me to escort you?" He offered. She shook her head.

"No, thank you. I'll be fine." She refused, turning to leave the garden. As she reached the exit she swung around and looked at him. "Goodnight, Hector." She called gently.

"Goodnight Andromache." He answered. "You'll meet him." He continued in a hushed tone, so that none but the gods could hear him. "Maybe you already have."