Cassandra's episode had been declared mild hysteria brought on by stress.

After the third time correcting someone to no prevail, Cassandra gave up. Apollo had cursed her.

Even Helenus, the one who'd at least given her wild ideas consideration in the past, turned a deaf ear when she spoke of Troy's end.

Never had Cassandra felt this alone.

But not defeated.

The physician had declared Cassandra's head wound inconsequential and had ordered her to rest for two days.

During the daytime, she followed his instructions.

At night, she traveled.

The first evening, after she knew Polyxena had been tucked into bed, Cassandra crept to Agatha's bedchamber. She apologized for her behavior at the market, and like the wonderful woman she was, Agatha forgave her with no fuss.

Then the nursemaid kissed Cassandra and sent her old charge away.

Cassandra slept peacefully that night.

The second evening, well after the palace's activity had ceased, she went to Paris' bedchamber. Early the next day, he'd leave with the King. Cassandra had one last chance to change her brother's mind.

While she walked, she didn't let herself think of Apollo's curse. Cassandra would find a way around it. She had to.

Cassandra knocked on Paris' door. She heard shuffling.

Then, "Who's there?"

"Cassandra. I'd like to talk."

Paris sighed.

"Please. This will be the last time we do in a long time." For added measure, she said, "And I'll hate you if your ship sinks and you're lost at sea, and I never got to say goodbye."

The door opened.

Before Cassandra Paris stood, still dressed for the day. A wild light burned in his eyes, and Cassandra knew he wouldn't sleep tonight, even if he wanted to.

Paris shook his head. "Must you be so dramatic?"

Cassandra smiled. "When it gets me results."

Paris eyed her for another moment, then he laughed. He moved aside to allow her into his bedchamber. "Are you feeling better?"

Cassandra stepped past him. "My head is still tender, but otherwise I'm fine."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Her brother shut the door and walked around Cassandra to one chair near his roaring fireplace. Paris sat and offered her the second chair.

Cassandra shook her head. Too much energy flowed in her limbs for her to remain still.

Paris sighed again. "What do you wish to talk about?"

"Why are you going with Father?"

Paris' gaze turned to the flames. He swallowed. "It's a good learning experience. I know I'm not the heir, but I need as much... exposure as I can get. I want to be an asset to Troy."

"But you can stay here and learn. I don't think traveling to Laconia will offer you much."

"Father wouldn't agree with you."

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "He doesn't know everything."

Her brother looked at her and smirked. "Oh, and you do?"

Paris' tone made Cassandra want to kick him, but she ignored her childish urge. Anger wouldn't aid her endeavor.

For weeks, she'd been following and pestering him. She'd worn his patience thin.

But how could she get through to him? What words would override Apollo's curse and get through to her brother?

Once, she'd been smart enough to outwit an Olympian god and live. She could find a solution to this problem and save her home.

A glimmer of an idea popped into her mind.

Apollo had cursed her because of her suspected lying. Since meeting the sun god, all Cassandra had done was lie to her family, to her friends, and herself.

Maybe to break the curse, she had to come clean about everything and damn the consequences.

She took three breaths and met her brother's exasperated gaze. "Of course, I don't know too much, but I'm more informed about what's going on than you could ever guess."

Paris leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. His body language screamed nonchalance, but his eyes revealed his true feelings. "Well, enlighten me."

Cassandra started from the beginning, from her attack of Apollo. She revealed all to him: the chimera, Apollo's gift, all her visions, Dimus, the day at the pond with the fake herdsman, how her romance dilemma had escalated to her hurting the god she'd loved. Cassandra left out no insignificant detail.

At first, her voice cracked, and she stumbled over her words. As Cassandra continued, her voice's strength grew. The more she spoke, the higher her sense of relief. She hadn't realized how much concealing this information had weighed her down.

By the time she finished, the fire burned low. Out Paris' window, a pink hue could be seen in the early morning sky. Outside his door, Cassandra heard the staff's shuffling feet.

Throughout her tale, Paris hadn't moved. He'd watched her, his face as blank as the wall behind him. Not once had his gaze wavered from her.

His stoic stance had bothered Cassandra, but she hadn't let it hinder her.

Now, Paris' attention left her and fell on the fireplace. He uncrossed his arms and rubbed his arms and legs. A contented moan escaped him.

Cassandra took that as her cue to walk around the room to wake her limbs.

Being the second royal son meant Paris had an impressive bedchamber. Unlike her other brothers' chambers, Paris' was sparsely decorated. He'd had much of the furniture removed after he'd settled into his royal life.

The lack of adornment reminded Cassandra of Hermes' hut.

Bitter disgust reared its ugly head, but it didn't overtake her. She wouldn't let anything about him ever control her again.

Once done, Paris turned toward her, and Cassandra ceased pacing. "That's quite a story."

She nodded.

A smile played on her brother's lips. "It outdoes all the stories Mother has told."

Knots formed in Cassandra's stomach. He wouldn't smile if he believed her.

Had she been wrong? Would nothing lift the sun god's curse?

She had no answer, but Cassandra couldn't give up. "Yes, well, unlike her, I speak the truth."

The smile widened. "Come on!" He chuckled. "When did this tale come to you? After you hit your head? Or is this what you do in your gardens, pretend? You realize you're much too old for nonsense. I know Mother gets away with it, but you don't have the luxury of being queen."

"But... if this is all make-believe, how would I know about your real reason for leaving?"

Paris' face darkened. "I told you why I'm going."

"No, you want that woman Aphrodite promised you for choosing her. Paris, you can't have her. Your possession of her will mark Troy's end."

Paris snorted. "Because visions told you."

Cassandra wanted to rip out her hair. "If I were Aesacus, you'd listen to me."

"Aesacus didn't act like a fool."

With a mind of their own, Cassandra's feet carried her over to her brother. Her anger and hurt bubbled up, and she slapped Paris across the face.

She went to do it again, but he caught her hand.

"Don't you dare put another hand on me."

Her brother's voice held a terrifying note that would have chilled Cassandra's blood if she weren't so furious.

"Don't insult me."

"If it bothers you so, don't make it so easy."

The hand Paris held twitched.

In response, he squeezed until her fingers turned bright red.

Cassandra didn't utter a cry, didn't drop her glare.

They remained like that so long morning burst into full bloom. Sunlight streaked the floor.

Someone knocked on Paris' door.

"My Lord, are you awake yet?"

"Yes," Paris called, "but leave me for now."

"The King wants you ready as soon as possible. He refuses to be—"

"I'm aware of the King's wishes. I need a little more time."

"... As you command, my Lord."

Paris released Cassandra's hand and flung it at her so hard it smacked against her chest. "Go. I'm done with you."

"You're condemning Troy and your family to death. Is a pretty face worth that?"

"Enough."

Cassandra's anger disappeared. Her shoulders slumped, and tears dampened her cheeks. "I thought you'd do nothing to hurt what you care about."

Paris stood and placed his back to her. "If you don't go now, I'll have the guards escort you away."

Cassandra cried harder but did as ordered.

The staff watched her pass with bewildered expressions, but none stopped her on her way to her bedchamber.

Once there, she crawled into bed, wrapped the blankets around herself, and wept for Troy.