• Chapter One Hector was meant to have come to him over an hour previous, but he hadn't. Where was he? Young Prince Paris still resided at his balcony for only a second more before turning and taking but a few arrogant strides back into the shade of his bedchambers. The brightly dyed toga, the brooches on the shoulders lay forgotten, just fell around his waist exposing his bronzed skin. And what sweet skin it was...according to Hector anyhow. Yes, these were the precise words his brother had used. Dropping onto the silken sheets of his bed, he allowed his mind to transport him back to earlier that day... "You look like you have had an enjoyable morning brother..." Hector said, as he stepped out of the shadows and in front of his younger sibling as he tried to slip back into the palace. "You weren't in lessons. Councillor Egia wishes to tell father that you haven't been attending" Hector tried to hide the playful smirk upon his handsome, clean-shaven face. It had been two weeks since he had celebrated his 22nd birthday and what a celebration it was. Three days of festivities for the entire city, filled with the young naivety that would soon be pulled away from him as he knew what loomed ahead. The Battlefields. Hector was enlisted under his father's commands, and now he could only pray for peace. Though of course he knew this was but a foolish dream, knowing deep in his heart that war would make him who he was supposed to be. To take his place beside his fellow Trojans, to lead their armies into battle, for it was well known that no one else would. King Priam too old. Paris too young. And so it fell to Hector. He was skilled with a sword, that fact was not contended. He had been taking lessons every day since his 10th birthday and had almost grown a passion for the folded steel. "Hector!" yelled the younger, clasping at his chest to get over the surprise of his brother just nearing the spot where he had just had his own "lessons" with a kitchen slave. "Yes Paris?" said the elder sibling, arching a dark ebony brow, that playful smirk making its way to his lips only to infuriate his brother more. "You torture for not going to lessons, but yet father is always insisting that our duty..." Pausing to stick his nose in the air dramatically. "Is for the people of Troy...And it is that duty I humbly keep to..." "I am quite sure that father didn't mean that you were to impregnate every young lady within the city walls," said Hector, rolling his eyes and ruffling Paris' dark locks...Those sinful locks, of chocolate colour, still tinged with sweat from the sport he had obviously just taken part in. Blinking himself back into reality, Hector put on another smile as they both walked arm in arm up the large stone steps, Paris of course boasting about the beautiful blonde.