Author's Note - Well, first off, let me say I hope you and your families are all well and doing okay during the global pandemic. Crazy times. Just remember, it's not only important to look after yourself physically but mentally too - so I'm here if anybody needs to reach out for a chat. I'm happy to be the Korina to your Phile :o)

I had some considerable trouble with this chapter so I hope it reads okay. A lot happens in this one - maybe too much? I hope it's not a muddled mess anyway!

Stay safe everyone!

I was so blind with rage, I honestly cannot tell you much about my trip back to the palace, which I completed alone and on foot. I marched back to the city with such furious purpose I had not even stopped to pick up my discarded sandals and cloak from the beach. My companion had not chased me which was probably the wisest thing he had done that morning; I was so cross with him he would have probably met with even more of my wrath if he had. I doubted the Prince had ever needed to pursue a woman before. Perhaps he did not follow me because it was an alien concept to him. Maybe he felt it was beneath him. Possibly, he did not follow to teach me a lesson – I could not tell and I do not think I ever found out.

I remember that I just wanted so desperately, longingly to go home - and I think you can agree it was rather telling that I did not head straight to my mother and the house I grew up in. All I could think about was the sanctuary of my quarters at the palace. Everything passed by me in a blur as a tramped up the street that Hector and I had previously ridden down. The colours, the people, the noise, the smells – they all blended into an overwhelming rush as my heart pumped so hard, I could sense the fast pulse boom from inside my ears. Looking back, I must have looked such a sight being barefoot, my plain gown dirty at the hem, covered in sand with my wind-whipped hair as wild as my eyes.

I was close to the palace gate when I felt an arm clasp me around the waist, halting me. I could tell it was not Hector as this was rough and it hurt. I was lifted and thrown down like a ragdoll. I landed on dirty, urine-stinking cobblestones in a pile, hitting my head on a wall and scraping my elbows raw on the ground. As I tried to get a handle on the searing pain, I could hear hearty laughing and my misty vision made out two pairs of dirty sandaled feet standing around me as I managed to pull myself up on my hands and knees, like a wild animal, gasping in shock.

"Where you goin', prettyyyy?" cooed one slurred, menacing male voice.

"Le's 'ave us some fun." The other said with a coarse rumble of anticipation.

I was then grabbed tightly at the wrists and violently pulled to my feet. I wobbled as the blood rushed in my head and the bump to my head throbbed. Fear overcame me for a fleeting moment as my eyes tried to focus on the man standing before me. I thought I recognised him as one of the drunks that we had passed in the street earlier – and they had dragged me into that side alley, away from prying eyes or a hope of salvation.

"Les see whas under tha gown, shall we?" he asked the friend who was standing behind me, no longer restraining me by the wrists. Instead, he had a filthy hand grasping me by the shoulder, obviously thinking I was too paralysed by terror and too small in stature to be much of a threat. He reeked of alcohol and stale body odour.

It is strange how, in a moment of such abject fear, you can reach a point of absolute clarity. As the first man lecherously reached forward to my shoulder to rip my clothes away at the weakest point, my survival instinct fiercely kicked in and I quickly calculated my options - I did not have any apart from fighting back. Using the anger roused by Hector earlier and not thinking much about it, I suddenly punched him as hard as I could muster, square in the face. It was such a strong blow that I felt tiny bones in my hand crunch as my fist glanced off the bridge of his large nose and eye socket. He reeled backwards and onto the cobbles, dazed and crying out in pain. It probably would not have been so affective if he had been a sober man. The second man span me around and had his hand raised to give my face an open-handed slap but, again, being drunk he was not fast enough. I could not ball my hand up into a fist again after that painful punch so I shoved the heel of it straight up into the nostril area. It exploded like a rotten tomato. "Bitch!" he yelled at me, lunging forward to blindly grab me as his face was so covered with thick, shockingly bright blood. I knew the best place to inflict pain on a man and I did not hold back. I bought my knee up quickly and firmly into his groin. As he instantly dropped to his knees in agony, I saw my chance to escape and ran for my life.

As I sprinted back out into the main street, I collided with someone. I almost pushed them out of the way as I desperately tried to make it to the safety of the palace gates but they put their hands firmly on my shoulders to steady me. In a blind panic, I scrunched my eyes closed tried to and tried to shake them off but I no longer had the strength and they held me firm.

"Phile! Calm down! What has happened?"

I recognised that voice. I opened my eyes to see Leander there, impressive in his smart armour. I had never been so overjoyed to see a friendly face but shaking with pure adrenaline, I was in no mood for talking.

I could feel my legs quivering: "Just see me through the palace gates." Is all I could muster, it is all that I wanted.

Leander eyes looked concerned beneath his helmet: "You are not right, you need help." He pleaded.

"I do not require anybody's help" I growled at him through gritted teeth, stomping off to the gates with him following in my wake like a duckling follows its mother.

Back at my quarters, I closed and locked the door then sunk to the floor with my back against it, staring at my filthy feet and trying to make sense of all that had happened. I felt strangely blank. Looking back, I was in shock. I had been almost raped and was filled with unadulterated hate for my two attackers. How I wished I had a knife to hand to plunge into their black hearts. I was still furious with Hector and his supposedly noble, paternal approach to me when really, all he had done was trap me here, like a pet, to stop his wife from nagging him and to quieten the rampant gossips.

I decided then I would no longer be his trophy.

I stood up and went over to my closet, meaning to pack some things to leave. I opened it to find the usual row of red robes and a two or three plain but fine gowns. There was no way I would wear my Hetaerae dress ever again, I thought stubbornly. The plain gowns I did not feel appropriate to take as they were not mine and I was no thief. I stalked around the room desperately for something – anything – that belonged to me, that could cement my identity but of course, there was nothing at all. Who was I? I did not know anymore. I had lost myself I realised with utter despair. I dropped to the floor and began to sob in hopelessness, so very alone.

When I had no tears left in me to cry, I sat and thought what my life would be like if I went back to my mother. We had no wealth, Sophus had made sure of that. I had no real skills like sewing or weaving that could realistically be turned into work. I could not join a temple as I was technically no longer a virgin. Perhaps Hector was right, I considered grudgingly - I would end up having to sell my body. And what would mother say if I returned? She had been so happy and proud that Hector had chosen me to be his Hetaerae. She would be so disappointed in me, there was no escaping that and I did not want her to think me a failure.

I had to stay. If I were allowed after the events of that day, of course.

I got myself up. I vacantly washed my body and my tear-stained face, I brushed the sand from my hair and styled it in a way to conceal the bump on my forehead. I put on a red robe and fixed the collar around my neck. I sat on my bed and stared off into nothingness for a while. If I were going to be confined to this life, I had to begin to accept it.

I must have fallen asleep as I found I was being roused by a knock at my door. It was quite a dainty, light knock so I was sure it was not Hector. I blearily got myself up, smoothed down my gown, checked with my hands to see if my hair was still neat and went over to receive my caller.

I opened the door to find my mother standing there.

She looked very well. Her face was fuller, pink and not as careworn as before. She wore an expensive-looking robe with her hair pulled neatly into a bun. I could not quite believe it and I blinked several times in succession in case I was seeing things or was dreaming. When she did not disappear and I realised she was very real, I flung my arms around her and held her so tightly for quite some time.

"Phile!" she laughed, trying to extricate herself from me. "Are you going to invite me in?"

I finally came to my senses and invited her into my quarters. She looked around the room in awe, commenting on how large and grand it was. She complimented me too, she seemed to think the robes and collar of the Hetaerae were very becoming of me. She almost immediately noticed my grazed elbows of course – a mother's intuition I suppose - and enquired what had happened. I did not want to alarm her with the truth (which might have meant I would have to confess my fight with the Prince too) so I told her I went for an early morning walk, tripped and fell. Although she did not look very convinced, she accepted my excuse.

"I cannot believe you were allowed to visit!" I marvelled to my mother, smiling broadly from ear to ear.

"Oh, I am not visiting." She replied nonchalantly; "I live here now, like you."

Perhaps the bump to my head had rendered my thinking quite slow but I found it difficult to comprehend what I was hearing. I must have looked perplexed as mother continued:

"Well, actually, technically I work here." She added, as if that would something to clear up the mystery (it did not).

Furiously trying to put together the meagre puzzle pieces she had offered but failing, I sank to the edge of my bed. Mother sat next to me and took my hand. I searched her face: "Tell me everything from the beginning" I entreated.

It was Hector's doing – of course it was. Mother explained that he had invited her to live at the palace, the day he had picked me to be his Hetaerae (also the day he had visited to deliver the body of my dead stepfather). Hector had told her he did not want her to be all alone, however I knew from our little chat that morning that a large part of his motivation had been how visibly unfortunate we had become and that he felt he owed my family some sort of debt. Still, I could not argue with his thoughtfulness. Mother had apparently insisted that she would not be some parasite and that she be given work at the palace, to which Hector had agreed. She was now the new palace sewing mistress.

Then with some considerable alarm, I remembered. The Princess had expected me at the Gynaeceum! I groaned, my shoulders sinking when I realised.

"Was the Princess upset I was absent today?" I asked.

"No, dearest." Mother replied gently, putting a reassuring hand on my knee: "She was more concerned of your welfare." That sounded like Andromache, I thought. I could not imagine that mild-mannered woman being annoyed by anyone, unlike me.

"The Prince had organised it to surprise you with me at the Gynaeceum today." Mother added. "He certainly thinks highly of you."

I felt dreadful. Hector had tried to do something nice for me and I had ruined it. I was ruefully doubtful whether he felt highly of me any longer, that was for sure. I had been so incensed that he had called me 'ungrateful' but now, I understood why.

Mother stayed for a while - we sat and idly chatted. She wanted to know how I spent my days and I gladly told her. She said she wished to see the records room and its resident owl one day and perhaps join me in a turn around the South Courtyard once-in-a-while. I promised I would take her to the memorial armoury so she could see father's helmet for herself which gave her much happy anticipation. She told me that our family home had not been sold but rather rented to a nice, young family which cheered me greatly – it was nice to think the house I grew up in would be filled with laughter and love again. We took an afternoon meal together before she left me to get some rest.

I could not quieten my brain enough to take another nap. Of course, my mind mulled over Hector – why was that man so damn infuriating? One moment, his apparent conceit and egocentric manner riled me, the next I felt a real fondness for him.

Another knock at my door – I really was a popular lady that day. I did recognise the pattern of the rapping however, I knew it was Korina come to see me.

"Korina!" I admonished as I opened the door. "You should know better than to be out and about in the afternoon heat!"

"Oh, pish!" She disregarded me jokingly, flipping her wrist at me in the way she had a Hector earlier: "I could not wait for the gossip!" she added excitedly as she bustled into my room.

"What gossip?" I asked, genuinely confused as my hand still hung on the door handle. Why was everyone so obsessed with gossip today?

"Your little trip with the Prince!" she laughed as if it were obvious: "I have been dying to hear about it since I saw the two of you looking adorable together earlier!" She was smiling as she remembered.

But I could not return her smile. As she watched my face contort into a deep frown, she became immediately concerned.

"What has happened, Phile?" Korina asked, her voice loaded with worry, as she sat carefully at the small table in my room. I crossed the room to join her, sliding into the seat opposite.

From the beginning, I revealed everything. Hector's rudeness at the stables, his insistence I join him for a ride, his kitchen robbery, our journey through the city, what happened at the beach and how I was attacked by two drunks. I also told her about Hector's gesture with my mother and how I was absent from the Gynaeceum so spoilt the surprise he had planned. She heard me out intently and with sympathy. Korina was a good listener and I was grateful for that.

"Do you think Hector will punish me?" I asked her with some worry, as she seemed to know him well.

"Oh Phile." She replied solemnly: "The only people receiving punishment today would be those two beasts that attacked you! Hector would never hurt a hair on your head - he would sooner drown himself in the river Scamander!" She replied resolutely and I found relief in her words.

"Besides," Korina continued: "Hector can be a horse's arse!" she laughed. "He needs to be told off sometimes."

I was surprised by her frankness. "Have you ever?" I asked.

"I have been known to call him out when he is being ill-mannered" She shrugged. "Hector and I have been friends for a long time."

Korina explained to me how she and Hector first met. Korina's parents (who were bakers, by trade) had sadly succumbed to a plague that ripped through the Lower Town a good few years ago, leaving her the sole carer of her baby brother, Lysander. They became homeless and struggled to survive on the streets. One day, the King had visited the Lower Town with his favourite son, the young prince who was next in line to the throne - they made a rare royal appearance to boost morale but many of the Lower Town citizens were angry at their monarch, they felt ignored and abandoned. A tussle occurred but the few guard soldiers in attendance soon overpowered the disenchanted revolt. However, in the preceding scuffle, the Prince's necklace clasp snapped and it had fallen, lost to the ground (I asked her if it was the collar-like flat gold necklace I had seen him wear and indeed, yes it was. Apparently, it was precious to him as it had been a gift to mark his birth). Korina discovered it in the dust and dirt and instead of keeping it to sell – it would have fetched a very handsome price indeed, meaning that Korina and Lysander could get off the streets and gain a roof for their heads – she had simply returned it to the Prince. Moved by two children living on the streets and impressed by Korina's honesty, Hector arranged it so Korina and Lysander had work and a place to live at the palace. After seeing the plight of the people of the Lower Town, it seemed he was also determined to help there, too.

"Although the Lower Town is in no way as salubrious as some other parts of our city, there are no homeless people on the streets anymore, there are no beggars. Hector makes sure the poor have enough food and clean water". Korina remarked.

So, the rumours were true – Hector had been responsible for the turn of fortune of the Lower Town. He would make a good king when the time comes, I thought. Korina must have noticed how impressed I was as she added:

"I do not know if you noticed but Hector refuses to keep slaves in his wing of the palace – he only employs paid servants who are there of their own free will."

I had not noticed but again, I was impressed at Hector's altruistic nature - even if I could be counted as one of his charity cases. I recalled The Governess had said (rather disrespectfully of her Prince) that he liked taking in 'waifs and strays'. It had just become clearer why she would say that.

Korina reached forward to take my hand in hers and was looking at me quite earnestly:

"You see Phile, Hector does mean well, even though sometimes his good intentions get lost behind his self-importance. He has a big heart".

I believed her.

"So, you were Hector's maid when you worked here?" I asked Korina, wanting to hear even more about her life.

She nodded, taking her hand away from mine and pushing her hair back behind her ears with it: "Yes. Maid … spy … occasional lover … someone to talk to. He was quite lonely in his teenage years, you know." She remarked.

I imagined Hector as a young man, isolated within himself due to his station in life and I felt a pang of sadness for him.

"I left when I married my husband." She continued. "He owns the Bunch of Grapes tavern in the Lower Town. Or rather, we both do now. I have a lovely little life really – a comfortable business, a loving husband, three healthy children with another almost here." She affectionately stroked her large bump as she said this: "If it were not for Hector, I would not have any of it. I probably would not be here at all, in fact."

Korina really did have a tough start in life but I was so pleased that she was now happy. Nobody I knew deserved it more than her. I had a sheltered life in comparison and felt foolish about complaining about it to her. When I told her this, Korina did not seem to be of the same opinion.

"Phile, your life has not exactly been a dream, has it?" she reached her hand across the table to take mine again, this time holding it tighter: "Your father was cut down in his prime and your stepfather was an abusive, drunken swine."

I was dumbfounded: "How do you know about Sophus?" I asked Korina "Did Hector tell you?"

"He did not have to." She replied, her large eyes widening: "Who's tavern do you think that wicked man died in?"

I was taken aback and my mouth gaped for the moment in shock of it all.

"What happened?" I asked, desperate to know "Nobody has told me."

"Well, Sophus was a known trouble-maker in pretty much every tavern in town." Korina began, staring off into nothingness as she recalled that night: "I cannot tell you the amount of times we have had to eject him from the premises for one misdemeanour or another. That particular night he was at our bar, loudly badmouthing your father and saying some pretty despicable things about you too. This was not the wisest of moves, seeing as there was a group of four or five soldiers also enjoying our hospitality that night, men that remembered and thought very highly of Erymas."

"So, one of Hector's men killed Sophus?" I gasped and Korina nodded in the affirmative.

I felt somewhat alleviated that some cryptic points of my life were finally being connected. That is why Hector had personally attended our house with my stepfather's body! I suddenly remembered the wretched look in the eyes of one of Hector's mounted guards and wondered if he had thrown the fatal punch. Not that it mattered – good riddance. Whoever that man was, he deserved a medal.

Korina rose from her chair, with some considerable difficulty due to the size of her baby bump and shuffled across the room to look out of the window whilst she stretched. I understood this was a necessary thing whilst heavily pregnant after being seated in one place for too long.

"I knew your father too." She suddenly said: "He was one of the best men I have known. He was always so kind to my brother and me. The reason I am here is that I wanted to return his kindness. When Hector told me about you, I thought you could use a friend. It has been nice to take time out from the tavern and get to know you, Phile."

My heart radiated warmth at the thought of my father and at Korina's generous nature. I was very glad to be able to call her my friend. I had always assumed that Hector had asked her to tend to me (although thinking back, I doubted he would have asked such a thing of a heavily-pregnant lady) so I was truly surprised but eternally grateful that she had come of her own free will. Then I remembered when we had first met, Korina had told me she could only stay a few weeks due to her impending arrival.

"The baby will come soon." I stated rather than asked as I looked to her swollen stomach.

"Any day." She agreed, looking down fondly at it and stroking it with her hand once more.

I was really going to miss her.

"I would like to come visit you and your family when the little one arrives and you are settled, if Hector allows it." I told her.

Korina looked to me, smiling: "I would like that too."

She looked back out the window but instead of enjoying the beautiful view, her brow suddenly became quite quizzical. She must have seen something odd.

"You are usually in the South Courtyard at this time of day, are you not?" Korina asked.

"Yes" I answered carefully, rising and making my way over to where she stood so I could see what she was looking at.

She smiled and nodded in the direction her eyes were trained: "I think someone is waiting for you."

The Crown Prince of Troy was sat alone, on the arbour seat that was placed under a large Jasmine bush in the South Courtyard.

When I reached Hector, he was sitting quite comfortably, my missing cloak folded neatly with my sandals arranged on top, placed next to him on the arbour seat. He had returned to his resplendent, royal self now – neat, clean, swathed in blue robes with his messy mane tamed. I found I quite missed my scruffy stableman from that morning. He held out a hand before himself and was absolutely engrossed in what he was doing with it - he had obviously taken one of the flat, skimming pebbles from the beach earlier as he was flipping it quickly and very dexterously back and forth between the gaps of his fingers. I watched, captivated for a moment and wondered how many surprises this man concealed.

"Come sit, Phile". He said in that even voice not taking his dark eyes from his hand: "I need to talk to you." He sounded quite serious and I hesitated, not wanting to be reprimanded by him but at the same time, knowing I deserved it. He must have sensed my hesitation because he stopped flipping his pebble, taking it in the other fist before he looked up at me quite earnestly: "Do not fret. I will not bite."

I was eased by his words but still a little cautious as I picked up my belongings, slid into the space I had just freed next to him and placed the pile on my lap. Hector suddenly and rather theatrically held both his palms open in front of me, to show me the pebble had disappeared before pretending to pull it 'miraculously' from behind my ear. I knew this was only sleight-of-hand but Hector had performed his little stunt with quite some practiced flair.

A mixture of confusion and wonderment played across my brow: "When did you learn magic tricks?"

Hector tossed the pebble in the air with one hand and deftly snatched it out of the air with the other.

"You must allow a man have his mysteries sometimes" He answered, smiling that tiny smile for a moment.

We were silent for quite some time. It felt uncomfortable. Hector had waited in the gardens for me, said he needed to talk to me so it was quite mystifying. Perhaps I should have looked to his face for some clue but I found I could not as I feared he regarded me with disappointment. Instead, I watched a bee bumble over the tiny pink blooms of the Jasmine overhanging me, still busy despite the impending twilight. It was then I suddenly realised that perhaps Hector was waiting for me to apologise or show some gratitude.

"I am sorry …" I began but Hector cut me off:

"No, you are not." He said, laughing a little in disbelief.

I thought about it for a moment and remembered his arrogance and self-importance. Perhaps I was not all that sorry for shouting at him that morning. He did need to be told off sometimes, as Korina had said.

"Well, I do need to thank you." I said finally, toying with a corner of the cloak that was sat on my lap.

Hector was staring off into the distance with a frown: "You do not need to do anything of the sort. I did not arrange for your mother to live here to curry your favour, Phile." He said sternly: "I did it because it was right. Whether you like it or not, I do feel that I have a duty of care to your family. It was never my intention to take you away from your mother, you know." He seemed quite annoyed, probably because I had ruined the surprise arranged for me at the Gynaeceum.

Silence again. Hector seem to soften as he leant forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, bringing his hands together and interlacing his fingers.

"I am glad you found your way back on your own in and one piece this morning" He said thoughtfully: "How is your hand?"

"You know about that?" I do not know why I was so surprised, Hector seemed to know everything.

Hector simply nodded: "Lysander saw those drunken yobs pull you down the alley from his watch-post on the gates. Before he could run to your aid, you had already dealt with them appropriately. Two men currently reside in our prison, one with a badly blackened eye, the other with a broken nose and a very bruised pair of testicles. I have to say, I am impressed." He said, looking at me as if I was some fascinating creature.

Poor Lysander. I remembered he had only tried to help me and I had been so rude to him. He had wanted to escort me all the way back to my quarters too but I had not allowed him. I had shouted at him to leave me alone, in fact. I made a resolution to apologise profusely next time our paths crossed. I thought about my attackers locked away. Would they be left to rot – or something worse?

"What will happen to them?" I asked Hector, trying to muster up at least some concern but really, I did not care a jot about them.

"They tried to violate the consort of the Crown Prince. Do you really want to know?"

I shook my head in the negative.

"For the best, I think" He said, reclining back again: "I can see this horse's arse will need to watch his own back with you now." He smirked and I openly winced, remembering the insults I had hurled at him. "Let me see your hand." He entreated, after a short while.

I gave him my swollen and bruised hand. He handled it with his own, so gently. With great care and attention he studied the knuckles and my palms, checked my finger joints by giving them a the softest of squeezes between his thumb and forefinger (some were rather more painful than others which made me hitch my breath), then he got me to waggle all of the digits separately to make sure I could move them.

Satisfied that I was relatively undamaged, he still held my hand as he said: "You should never punch with your four fingers wrapped over your thumb. You are lucky you have not broken bones. Always place your thumb on the outside of the fist." And he demonstrated with his other hand. "Does your shoulder hurt too?" he asked intuitively.

"Yes, it really aches" I admitted.

"Throwing power should come from the lower body, not the upper." Hector instructed me, mimicking throwing a punch to show me. "I can see I have a lot to teach you if you want to learn how to protect yourself, like you said."

I was suddenly moved. Hector had listened and taken heed to what I had said on that beach and even after I had been so dreadful towards him, here he was, trying to appease me. Hector had a lot of patience with me, a realisation that seemed to tug at my heart.

I thought about the men in the alleyway, how I had instinctively known they were not Hector as he had always acted so gentle towards me. I thought about where I would be if they had got their wicked way with me. Dead? Or even worse - kept alive to live with the shame. Recalling it all, I started to cry. Hector looked alarmed that I was suddenly so upset. He brushed the hair from my face to try to soothe me and happened to see the angry looking swelling on top of my forehead I had been trying to conceal.

"Look what they have done to you. You must have been so scared". He murmured, those dark eyes examining my forehead, concern knitting his brow.

He held my face tenderly in his two hands. He gently wiped across my eyelids with his large thumbs to remove my tears and then he lent forward to lightly kiss my swollen forehead as if he were willing the soreness away.

His action soothed me greatly and my tears slowed. I must have looked as ashamed as I felt however as Hector told me:

"Fear is good. It is what gets you fighting - and keeps you fighting".

"Even you?" I snivelled, not being able to imagine him fearing anything.

"Yes." answered the famed warrior sitting next to me as if it were obvious: "I do not fear my own death. I fear the pain and suffering of those I leave behind if I should fall. I fear leaving the people that I love."

He put his nearest arm around the top of my back and pulled me to him so I was tucked against him under his arm. I felt secure and comfortable. We stayed contentedly like that for a long time as twilight turned into evening. I could smell the cool, salty breeze coming from the sea and I closed my eyes against it, taking a deep breath and holding it in my lungs, feeling ever so relaxed.

It was the perfect ending to the crazy day I had just endured. I had started it so mad at Hector but now, after learning about his humanity and having been on the receiving end of his compassion and affection myself, what I said to him that morning felt so tactless.

"I have been so foolish." I told him suddenly, breaking the much more amicable silence between us.

"There is foolish about you at all." Hector immediately replied and I could hear his voice rumble from deep within him with my head pressed near his chest like that: "You are determined and quite fearless like my sister said. Like a kitten – so sweet and innocent looking yet with such sharp and dangerous claws." I smiled when he said this – that sounded very true of me. He reached to my face with his free hand and with his fingertips under my chin, he gently lifted and turned my face so my eyes met his "Do not ever change." He entreated of me, his dark eyes so very intense but at the same time, warm.

I thought – hoped – that he might kiss me then - and with the way in which his eyes moved down to gaze at my lips, he was certainly thinking about it. But he did not. Instead he dropped his hand from my face and stared at the darkening sky, deep in thought.

"You were right this morning and the truth hurt." He admitted suddenly: "It is my own selfishness that has trapped you here. You seem to think I picked you as my Hetaerae because of who your father was. That was not the case. I knew I was going to choose you before I was even aware that you are Erymas' daughter. You are not only beautiful but there was something else about you. Something I cannot quite explain. I am drawn to you in a way that is not a want - but a need. I have never experienced anything quite like it before."

I was beyond stunned at Hector's confession – and absolutely flattered, of course. I realised I knew what Hector referred to as a 'need' – as it mirrored my own feelings for him but before I could find the voice within me to tell him this, he continued:

"I have been internally battling with this need but have learnt that perhaps I am not the principled man I liked to think I was." I knew immediately that he referred to his resolution to stay faithful to his wife: "The need for you has been too strong - distractingly so." He looked back to me as he said this. "You have made me weak. I do not like it … but I am learning to accept it. However, I will not force myself on you". He said, shaking his head at the very thought of it: "You have made it very clear that my affection is not reciprocated."

That confused me. In the few times I had been in his company, I had willed for his touch and kiss.

"How so?" I questioned him, meekly.

"The only time you have had me in your bed was out of obligation." He shrugged: "Never has a woman been so vehemently opposed to having me as a lover as you have been" He shook his head in memory of how resistant my body had been to his advances that night. "… I admit, it has dealt a huge blow to my pride. I guess you could say I have been like an injured dog, running away with his tail between his legs to lick at his wounds."

So, Hector had stayed away from me purposefully whilst he fought against his principles and because he assumed it was what I wanted - which in turn, had dented his ego. What a complicated mess!

"The more time we spend together, the more I fear I no longer have the strength to stay from you." He said pensively, searching my blank face for some sort of sign, I think. It was only blank because I was so utterly taken aback at this sudden turn of events.

"So, do not." I answered him simply and certainly.

Hector looked baffled by this. Korina had said that men are quite literal and to show him – so I did. I sat up so my face was as level to his as it could be, I slid my fingers deep into his curls (which I had been simply craving to do) and pulled him to me until my expectant mouth met his. I sensually kissed him. He tasted sweet as I gently took his full bottom lip between my own. A throaty breath escaped his lips as I stopped moving mine against his and I pulled away to read his reaction to my boldness. His eyes were still closed, his brows raised quizzically as if he could not quite comprehend what had just happened. He certainly had not expected it.

"Please Phile …" He entreated in almost a whisper as he opened his eyes: "Do not do this out of obligation, gratitude or even sympathy …"

I smiled at his concern and supposed I literally had to spell it out to him: "I do it because I do desire you, Hector."

When he finally comprehended, he smiled that tiny smile and wasted no time in kissing me back - I received him gratefully. It started gently, but the longer we kissed, the hungrier and more intense it became. My cloak and sandals tumbled from my lap to the ground, not that I cared. As Hectors tongue explored my mouth and I returned the gesture, I experienced an intense longing in my loins I had never quite felt before. Perhaps Hector felt the same as he pulled himself away, breathless for a moment.

"Do not stop." I told him with a whispered gasp, loaded with longing for him.

"We have to. I have to go – I have a meeting with my father" He replied stroking my still-close face with his fingertips and I mock-pouted like a petulant child, having her favourite toy taken away. "This is the worst timing!" He half-laughed in disbelief. He quickly kissed me again, more chaste this time.

"There is a Symposium tomorrow night … will you accompany me?" he asked and I nodded my agreement, wondering where this was leading "Afterwards perhaps we could … take a bath together?" I smiled at this suggestion, realising this would mean we would be very naked. The thought of it was so erotic, I was sure the anticipation would keep me up all night.

"That sounds perfect." I told him seductively and kissed him once more, my tongue parting his lips.

"I do not know how I will survive the wait." He groaned as we came up for air for the last time that night.

I watched him stand to reluctantly take his leave from me, arrange his robe to cover his arousal and just before he walked towards his father's wing of the palace, he said:

"The answer is … I learnt when I was younger … to impress girls." I must have looked more than a little confused by this as he reiterated: "The magic tricks!"

I watched him walk away as I sat giggling to myself. How very cute of him.