The King of Mycenae's positive tone ignited Cassandra's fury. She glared at the man who'd toppled her beloved city and ordered every death she'd either seen or heard. Pure, hot hatred hardened her heart.
"You're filth."
Odysseus' hand twitched, but Agamemnon waved his threat away. He laughed and got even closer to Cassandra. "I think, in time, your opinion will change."
"I'll never succumb to you. You're better off killing me."
Agamemnon shook his head. "Though it's hard to tell now, I know you're much too beautiful to kill."
Cassandra spat in his face and went to slap him.
Agamemnon grasped her wrist and twisted her arm behind her back and rendered her immobile. He gestured to Odysseus, and the general called for a rope.
Several soldiers ran away to comply.
A short time later, Odysseus tied up Cassandra.
Once done, the King of Mycenae kissed her cracked lips.
She bit at him as he pulled away, and he laughed.
"You're a lovely prize."
Agamemnon and his Greeks weathered the cold months in Troy. They cleaned much of what they'd destroyed in search of riches and any living Trojans to take as slaves.
Two days after the fires died out, the Greeks gathered all the dead bodies and burned them on giant pyres. The ashes of the dead covered the countryside.
Those of higher rank stayed in the palace. Agamemnon occupied Priam's old bedchambers, while his generals took over Cassandra's deceased brothers' rooms.
Unlike the slaves and other concubines, Cassandra was confined to her bedchamber; one of the few places in the palace that had gone untouched in the raid.
In the beginning, Cassandra didn't occupy it alone. Helen had been captured as she'd fled the palace the night of the attack and awaited her former husband's say in her fate.
The two women didn't talk, didn't acknowledge one another. Helen sat huddled in a corner and chewed on her fingernails while she hummed to herself. Cassandra stuck to her bed.
Food and water came twice a day, but neither consumed anything.
Two uneventful days passed, then a soldier arrived early on the third.
"King Menelaus will return to Sparta with you," he told Helen.
The former queen didn't react until the soldier repeated the news. Awareness lit her red-rimmed eyes, and for the first time in years, a pleased smile crossed her lips. Helen crawled toward the soldier.
"Has my king forgiven me? I can go home?"
The Greek shrugged. "It appears so."
Helen stretched a hand toward the soldier. He took it and assisted her to her feet. He had to support her weight or else she would have collapsed.
"Can I prepare myself first?" she asked.
The soldier nodded. "Of course."
He led her from the bedchamber without either of them sparing Cassandra a glance.
Cassandra cursed them both and wished for the ship to sink on the way back to Sparta. And for Helen and King Menelaus to drown, or for a giant sea monster to devour them. She knew her cry for revenge would go unheard, but it lightened her broken spirit a bit.
She settled back into her covers and resumed staring at the ceiling. Her stomach clenched with hunger and thirst made it hard to concentrate, but Cassandra didn't worry. Every other moment that passed, she willed her body to cease functioning. She had since Agamemnon had imprisoned her in her bedchamber.
When Cassandra slept, no prophecies came to her. Though her longing for death followed her into her dreams. In them, she passed into the world of the dead in peace, surrounded by all her loved ones. They hadn't suffered what their reality counterparts had. All were whole, grinned and laughed, and each told her how much they missed and loved her.
Each time she woke and realized her heart still beat, she cried.
The next day, Agamemnon entered the room. His hair glistened with water droplets from a recent bath. He avoided looking at Cassandra as he studied the room. He walked around and poked and prodded whatever he found interesting.
Once finished, he sat on the edge of Cassandra's bed.
She scurried to a standing position.
Agamemnon laughed. "For someone who refuses to care for herself, you sure can move when you want."
Cassandra glared at him.
"Why don't you eat or drink, Princess?"
Further silence from Cassandra.
Agamemnon nodded as if she'd spoken. "You seek death. Well, Princess, I won't let it happen. If you continue to be stubborn, I must find other... more unsavory methods... to keep you healthy."
A ridiculous, all-consuming thought struck Cassandra. If her body wouldn't waste away, she'd seek her end a better way. If wouldn't be as pleasant as starving to death, but it'd do.
She launched herself across her bed and slammed into Agamemnon. While slight and malnourished, Cassandra surprised him and knocked him to the floor. She made to claw out the King of Mycenae's eyes, but Agamemnon halted her efforts by using his superior strength and size to pin her arms to her body.
Cassandra expected a series of blows that would break her body beyond repair. She welcomed the due punishment. She knew she wouldn't experience much pain and what she did would only remind her of the sweet promise of release her actions had obtained.
What she sought never came.
Instead, Agamemnon kissed her much as he had on the hill, then released her. He shoved her away and stood.
Cassandra stumbled back into the chair on the other side of the room. She screamed in outrage.
The King of Mycenae chuckled and left.
When food and water came later, Cassandra consumed as much of it as she could. She'd make herself a formidable foe, one Agamemnon wouldn't find amusing. He'd have to kill her to live.
Five days passed without another sighting from Agamemnon. In his absence, Cassandra ate and drank more than she had in months.
At first, the excess consumption made her sick, but after her body expelled what it wanted, she demanded more. Her request never went unfulfilled.
On the second day, the slave who came to retrieve Cassandra's empty dishes dropped the ceramic plate, and it shattered into several pieces. The slave, once a highly regarded palace servant, exclaimed her stupidity and begged for forgiveness.
Cassandra calmed the woman, then told her to retrieve the tools to clean the mess. The slave responded with haste.
The sight of the broken plate had given life to an alternative plan, and Cassandra acted in her few moments alone. She picked up the largest piece of jagged ceramic and tucked it under her bedcovers. Then she scattered the remaining broken pieces to dilute suspicion.
The woman returned, cleaned up the mess, and left after several more apologies. The slave's fear infuriated Cassandra.
Her father hadn't been the kindest or most understanding master, but he would have never punished an underling for a simple mistake.
As she returned to her bed and thought through her plan, she revised the end part. Cassandra had initially just wanted to terrify Agamemnon into killing her, but now she intended to take the monster's life.
Better still, if Agamemnon didn't strike her a fatal blow before death, Odysseus would end her.
Cassandra smiled. Killing the King of Mycenae wouldn't undo all the horror that had befallen Troy and its citizens, but she hoped his death would offer the poor souls in the Underworld some relief.
Late on the fifth day, Agamemnon let himself into the room.
Cassandra sat on her bed; her right hand tucked under her leg. The position seemed casual, but her fingers clasped the ceramic shard. In one swift movement, she could wield the weapon without hindrance.
Agamemnon watched her much as he had days prior. He took two steps toward the bed, and when she didn't react, his shoulders dropped. He grinned.
"I'm almost saddened." He reached the bed and settled by her. "You're much more beautiful when riled."
The King of Mycenae tried to take Cassandra's left hand, and she acted. She removed the shard from its hiding spot and leaped at Agamemnon. His surprise allowed her to pin him to the bed without a struggle. A wild laugh escaped her as she pressed the shard against his exposed neck.
"How beautiful am I now?"
The shock fled Agamemnon's eyes, replaced by bitter anger. Cassandra tightened her grip on the shard, but before she could slice his neck, Agamemnon slammed his forehead into hers.
She yelped and tumbled to the ground; dropped the shard.
Through her blinding pain, she searched for her weapon. After a heart-pounding moment, Cassandra's fingers grazed it.
Just as she grabbed it, Agamemnon's foot stomped on her fingers.
She screamed.
Agamemnon bent close to her. "You will not attempt to harm me again."
"I'll never stop!"
He smirked. "Oh, I'm sure you will, Princess."
"Only in death."
Agamemnon chuckled. "You're not the only surviving member of your family in Troy."
The news gave Cassandra pause. He had to lie. She'd seen her mother, father, and siblings die. Ascanius and Aeneas had fled to safety.
Who else remained?
"I have no one."
Agamemnon shook his head. "It's a shame to hear your father didn't think of his bastards better."
Cassandra's blood froze. She'd forgotten her lesser siblings; the ones Priam had fathered through concubines. In all the chaos, she hadn't thought of their wellbeing. Shame forced bile into her throat. How could she have been so selfish?
The King of Mycenae's implication hit her then.
Even if one of her lesser siblings lived, she couldn't put their lives in danger. As much as she despised the realization, Cassandra would have to abandon her hope to provoke Agamemnon and his Greeks into killing her.
Her defeat must have shown on her face because Agamemnon removed his foot from her hand. He kicked the shard into a corner, then forced Cassandra to stand. His rough hand brushed back her unruly hair before he clamped his mouth over hers.
Disgust twisted her insides, but she didn't struggle. She didn't threaten to bite Agamemnon's tongue as it slid past her lips, nor did she slap his hands away when he fondled her breasts. Her compliance shredded what remained of her soul, but if it meant keeping her family safe, Cassandra would do whatever was required.
Agamemnon pulled back and grinned. "Much better."
With quick hands, he disrobed her.
Cassandra shook as she stood naked before his lustful gaze, but she didn't attempt to shield herself.
What if he retaliated?
"Is your maidenhood still intact, Princes?"
Cassandra bowed her head to hide her detestation. "Yes...m-my King."
Agamemnon undressed, took Cassandra's hand, and pulled her to the bed. He pushed her onto the blankets and crawled on top of her.
"You are a perfect prize."