Sorry this has taken me so long to get up to you guys. School has swamped me and right now my schedule is so hectic that I can't promise you guys regular updates. But anyways, this chapter has been long in coming. Oh, and there's a reference to the goddess Aphrodite in here, kudos to you who spot it. Enjoy!

My heart betrayed me the very next night. Or I should say, it betrayed me for the first time, for many more would follow.

Prince Hector and Menelaus were in meetings nearly the entire day, and Menelaus informed me that it would be my job to entertain Prince Paris.

That day was the longest of my life and Paris knew it.

The day started innocent enough, though I knew it wouldn't remain so for long. I felt like a rabbit trapped in the deadly gaze of a cobra. I took Paris to the stables after breakfast while Menelaus and Hector took their respective advisors and began negotiations. I had never visited the stables before and so was at a loss as to what to show him. He only laughed at my discomfort and said that horses were his brother's pride, not his own.

He'd much rather tour our city, he told me. I didn't show it, but inwardly I leaped at the chance to leave the palace grounds. And since I was entertaining a royal guest, Menelaus could not object. However, just to be safe I took Polydora. She respectfully stayed a fair distance behind us to allow us privacy, or as much privacy as we could get walking the crowded streets of Sparta.

I had veiled myself to refrain from attracting too much attention and no one recognized Paris, so we were assumed to be just a wealthy couple.

"You do not like attention?" he asked me, noticing I kept my face hidden.

"Unwanted attention," I clarified.

"And what would you define as unwanted?" he asked carelessly, leading me into one of the public gardens that was slightly less crowded than the streets.

"Most attention I receive."

He jerked his head back towards Polydora, who was out of hearing range. "She is your handmaiden?"

"And my husband's mistress," I answered, knowing that it was no secret. "As well as a lover to all his honored guests."

"The men of Sparta are so generous with their mistresses?" he asked, slightly surprised. He never rebuked me as others would for speaking of such things.

"The men of Troy are not?"

"First off, they are kept separate from wives out of respect. And second, they are exclusive to one man, so our customs vary greatly from yours."

"Do many men have them?"

"Only those to whom their station forced them to marry. A man who chose his wife with no pressure from others is looked down upon for keeping one."

"Our customs do vary greatly, then" I answered.

"I believe I prefer ours to yours," he murmured.

"They are not mine."

" - And I believe that you would prefer ours as well."

I smiled but did not answer.

"A wise move," he acknowledged, noticing my silence.

There was a pause then I changed the subject. "You should be married."

"It is not so imperative that I marry. Hector is still in excellent health with a lusty heir so there is no need for me to continue the line."

"You've never met someone?"

"Not someone I'd consider spending the rest of my life with. And yourself?"

"I am married," I pointed out, slightly confused.

"Have you ever met someone that you'd consider spending the rest of your life with?" he clarified.

I paused, realizing that for answering that question truthfully I could be killed. But I felt no fear divulging that information to him. "No."

"It is obvious."

"Then why did you ask?"

"To see what you'd say."

"Did I pass the test?"

"You are mistaken, my fair queen, I never test you," he said softly, looking at me out of the corners of his eyes.

"Good," I murmured.

We walked in silence for a few moments until Paris looked up at the sun. "It is growing late, we should return."

"They will not be finished for a few more hours," I replied carelessly.

"I've no desire to anger your husband," he replied, gently turning me towards the citadel and leading me back.

I did not answer him, guiltily aware of the shivers his hand on my back had produced.

Gods help me, I prayed, knowing very well the dangers I was heading into. I won't be able to resist him.

"And what did you think of our city, Prince Paris?" Menelaus said heartily, glancing happily at me. The meetings were going well, and he was pleased that I had entertained Paris so successfully.

"I was pleased beyond expectations," Paris answered, his eyes carefully avoiding mine. "Never before have I seen such beauty."

I saw Hector glance at Paris out of the corner of his eye. Menelaus did not notice, as I knew he wouldn't.

"Did Helen show you our stables? We've some of the finest Oriental stallions here for breeding."

"She showed me, but I'm afraid their greatness was lost on me. My brother is the horseman, not I."

"Well then, Prince Hector, I shall show you them first thing after we dine."

"I look forward to it," Hector answered.

The next few hours were spent listening to Menelaus rehash some of his better hunts in intricate detail. My thoughts wandered as she listened to his droning, until a sudden touch startled me back into reality. Under the table, I felt something lightly brush my hand, flesh upon flesh. I knew without a doubt it was not my husband, even before I looked to see his hands flailing as an aide to the story. I glanced at Paris, who wasn't even paying attention to me. His eyes were fastened to Menelaus as though the tales were the greatest he'd ever heard. But it was his hand that lightly stroked my own.

I sat there, tense and unmoving. Fear gripped at me, knowing that my own husband sat not an arm's length away from me. It was his right hand toying with my left, and he gently traced the outline of each finger. Never before had anyone affectionately touched my hands and I knew I couldn't pull away even if I had wanted to. And I didn't. As he finally finished tracing all my fingers down to my pinky, he started back up my hand again. But he soon stopped.

Too late, I realized what he was doing.

As his hand gently traveled the length of mine, I felt his fingers gently clasp my own finger and then pull away, easily sliding my signet ring off my finger. My eyes widened, but I forced myself to stay calm. That ring had been given to me by Menelaus, and it signified my status as his wife and Queen of Sparta. The royal seal was engraved on it, along with my own personal seal entwined around it. There would be no mistaking it. Queens of Sparta had worn it for centuries.

And Paris had just taken it.

"Helen?" Menelaus boomed, making me jump. My eyes snapped towards him and I quickly calmed myself.

"My apologies, the firelight is hurting my eyes," I quickly lied.

"It is after dark, we were just discussing whether the stables would be worth visiting."

"If it is the stables you seek to tour, then no. But the stallions can be taken out into the torch lit paddocks and shown for Prince Hector," I answered smoothly.

"That settles it, then," Menelaus said, rising from his chair. The rest of us followed suit. "Helen, will you accompany us?"

"Thank you, no. I shall retire." I nodded to the princes' bows of respect and hurried to my room, careful to keep my left hand tucked closely into the folds of my dress. Never before had I felt so vulnerable.

I went to my room and ordered my handmaidens away, even Polydora. I felt sure that my burning cheeks were noticed by all of them, though I knew the dim light would hide my blush. I sat down at my desk and proceeded to unclasp my hair, curl by curl. It had been pinned up all day and I sighed with pleasure as I gently massaged my scalp.

I slipped out of my elaborate gown and donned a simple white dress, perfectly fine for casual occasions. I went out onto my balcony and leaned against the wall, observing the stillness of the court. It was late; most of the servants had retired for the night. I watched as Menelaus and Hector returned and parted ways. I watched the moon rise high into the sky and cast its glow about the citadel. It was a full moon; I remember it clearly because everything was bathed in silver light. I listened as my handmaidens went to sleep and as the palace grew quiet, then silently slipped from my room.

I had much to think about.

I silently treaded along the paths of the gardens, my bare feet making no sound. Slipping through a small, hidden gate I sighed as the peacefulness of my sanctuary overtook me. The lily pool gently rippled in the faint breeze, but I passed it without stopping. Ducking through a group of dense bushes I came to my favorite spot in my garden. I had designed and created this part myself, with no servants to assist. The grass was soft beneath my feet and the bushes and dark trees provided the perfect covering. The myrtle and cherry trees were in full bloom, some of their petals strewn out over the ground to create a blanket of colors.

I closed my eyes and stepped deeper into it, letting the bushes cover my existence. No one knew of this place, not even my servants. If Menelaus were to call for me no one would be able to find me, it was so well hidden. It was here, and here alone, where I was truly hidden from the world. No problems existed, no sense of time, no cruel intentions or evil thoughts. Here I was no longer Queen of Sparta, but merely Helen. Dressed in a white dress with my hair falling loosely, here was the one place where I was truly the innocent girl I'd never been. Pure and untouched, with no thoughts toward beauty or riches, just like the two doves nesting together in the tree.

"You never told me of this place."

"I told no one of this place," I answered softly, recognizing the voice. "You should not have followed me."

"A vision of beauty gliding down the halls. How could I let you escape?" he teased, drawing up close and reaching for my hand.

"No, Paris, not here," I said firmly.

"Why not? Do you know of a better place?"

My pleading eyes caught his and the teasing look was replaced by a sincere concern. "Helen, what's wrong?"

"Look at it," I said helplessly, gesturing around. "It is all I have."

Confused, his eyes scanned the secret grove. "The entire garden is yours," he protested, still not understanding my point.

"No, it is mine by my husband's wishes," I whispered, tears starting in my eyes. "It is not mine because it is not secret. By his bidding, a servant may enter. By his calling I am brought from it. Do you understand?"

His eyes softened. He finally understood, that I could see. "Helen, this grove is yours to do with as you wish," he pointed out softly.

"I wish it to remain pure," I said firmly.

"Why?" he asked softly, stepping closer to me.

"Because it's the only part of me that is," I answered.

"I once answered you on that account."

"You do not know me, Paris, you truly do not. I am Queen of Sparta and wife to Menelaus. I have been gazed upon by countless men and there is no part of me that has not been lusted over." Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I voiced what I had never known and longed for with all my heart.

He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my ring-less finger. "You are not Queen of Sparta tonight," he answered. "And you have never been lusted for by me, therefore you are not tainted in my eyes."

"You wish for proof, Paris?" I whispered harshly, stepping away from him. "You shall have me, because I am giving myself to you. But I promise you-" I yanked out a clasp from my left shoulder, "- you will lust for me." The other clasp was yanked out and my white dress dropped to the soft ground. I watched his eyes, holding my breath. I remember breaking out into a cold sweat and feeling slightly dizzy.

Paris' breath caught in his throat as he gazed at me. His eyes traveled down my body then back up. "Put your dress back on, Helen," he said softly, his eyes holding my gaze. "I would not have you like that."

It was at that moment that I realized whom the girl in my reflection was, the one whose beauty radiated inner calm and strength. Her mysterious smile had always held a riddle, and at that moment I figured out the answer. She was longed for, not lusted for, and her smile had always mocked me.

That night it finally did not.

I put my dress back on and fastened the clasps again. "You did not want me?"

"You did not want me," he corrected gently, coming over to cradle my chin in his hands.

I smiled up at him, a comfortable, relaxed smile that radiated trust and love. "You are the first."

"I know," he replied, lightly tracing the outline of my lips. "But you did not want me to, and that's all that matters." His mouth was inches away from mine. "May I?" he whispered.

I smiled. "You may," I breathed.

And for the first time in my life I was kissed, hidden away in a secret grove alight with the silver glow of the moon.