The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the sky. Cobalt blue and dotted with stars, completely uninterrupted by anything, like someone had dropped a dome over me. Confused and knowing that there should have been a roof over my head, I sat up and discovered that my bed was no longer in the palace but on a flat area surrounded by pure white marble columns so tall that they seemed to touch the sky. At the same moment, I also realized that I was naked and covered only by a thin sheet. But where was I?
My unease only increased as I turned over to on my other side, gathering the sheet around me - as if that would provide any sort of protection from anything - and surveyed my surroundings. Or lack thereof. All I could see past the columns was the unending sky then a noise from my other side made me turn back and, where there had been empty space before, there was a man sitting on a white and gold couch with a sheet of red and gold fabric covering him from the waist down. There was also a tall slender woman standing behind him but, though I thought I recognized her from somewhere, her face was completely featureless. No nose or eyes, or even a mouth. Just long wavy dark hair surrounding a blank head and she was clad in a pale gold silk chiton, with a strange looking bracelet on her left wrist.
He was startlingly beautiful, with curly hair that was a shade or two lighter than Paris', brilliant blue eyes, and a tall toned body that rivaled any sculpture of any man I had seen thus far. His skin was nearly as pale as my own and his lips were flushed pink like the petals of wild roses but his jaw jutted out in stubborn proclamation of his gender and, far lower, another part of his body was equally prominent.
"Remember, not until the battle is over" the woman said, though how she spoke with no mouth was a complete mystery to me. Also a mystery was what exactly her words referred to. What battle?
I didn't have the chance to ask because the woman walked away without another word, leaving me with the man who looked as though he were ready to explode. I wanted to yell at her to stay, not to leave me with whoever he was but I didn't know who she was either. Only that she wasn't Artemis, who had fair hair and golden eyes and usually wore a hunting dress when she appeared to me, not a long gown.
With one last glance over his shoulder at the departing woman, the man rose from the couch, letting the sheet fall away carelessly to expose himself, and walked towards me with complete confidence. Arrogance seemed to seep from his very pores and I immediately drew up my guard, crossing my legs and staring at him defiantly in a manner that had served me well ever since I had become a woman. Who in Hades was he?
"Hello, Ismena. Why so confused? you did call upon me, after all" he said appearing almost amused and that only irritated me more. What was he talking about?
"I did not call on anyone" I protested hotly "besides, who are you?"
The beautiful lips curled into a smirk and, had he been anyone I knew, I'd have wiped it off his face with the back of my hand. However, my intuition told me that he was more dangerous than he looked so I stilled my hands and suppressed my temper. Anger would not solve the mystery of who he was or why he was here but patience very well could.
"Ah, there is that famous temper. I thought my sister was exaggerating when she said you had a tongue like a lash and fire in your blood" he remarked and, a split second later, I found myself pinned to the bed by an unbelievably strong hand. His lips came down on mine, hard enough to bruise them, and I swore I tasted blood. I didn't even have time to think before his other hand landed on my breast and began to knead it roughly, his thumb rubbing the tip until it hardened, while a distinctive hardness rubbed against my thigh. My lips parted in a silent gasp and he immediately seized that opportunity to invade my mouth, his tongue sliding against mine, sending liquid heat through my entire body.
Despite my anger at being assaulted like this, my body betrayed me and my hips shifted to cradle his erection. A growl rumbled in his chest and his hands moved from my waist and breasts down to my thighs, gripping them and drawing them up to embrace his hips. As he did so, his mouth moved from mine, down to my neck and he bit down, hard but not hard enough to break the skin, making me cry out in surprise and pain. His erection throbbed against my centre and my hands clenched themselves in the sheets in preparation for what that I knew was coming. I closed my eyes as his hips began to roll forward, not wanting him to see my pain, and wondered where the goddess was now that I needed her.
My eyes opened suddenly and my body was as stiff as a board, my hands clenching the sheets that were twisted around me, as the last images of the dream faded into the bright sun. It was morning and I was alone in my bed. With an audible sigh of relief, I relaxed and closed my eyes for just a moment to whisper thanks to whomever saw it fit for me to wake when I did.
The dream disturbed me more than any other I'd had in the past few days, primarily because of what it described and who wasn't in it. Had it been Paris holding me down, I'd have been able to dismiss it outright as nonsense brought on by our conversation the previous evening. I briefly pondered the possibility that the man was a manifestation of Paris in some way but there were three glaring differences between the two.
First, obviously, was physical appearance. Though they both were clean shaven, Paris did not have blue eyes by any stretch of the imagination and his hair was darker. The man in the dream had at least half a foot on him in height and his skin, in contrast with the olive toned skin of the prince, was pale and seemed to glow from within. Secondly, I knew full well that Paris did not have the strength to restrain me with one hand. Finally, in the many years I had known him, Paris had never approached me directly with the intent to assault me. Though he was well known for seduction, as far as I had heard, he had never taken a woman against her will and the man in my dream had made it clear that he was not quite so noble.
The gong outside tore me out of my idle thoughts and I sat up, feeling the familiar weight of dread settling in my stomach. We weren't due to receive any ambassadors from foreign lands for at least another month yet.
Still half-asleep, I wrapped my blanket around my lower body and ran out onto my balcony, my breasts covered by my long hair.
Ignoring the startled looks from Paris and Helen who were also on their balcony two doors down from my room, I focused on the shoreline and the last vestiges of peaceful contemplation evaporated as my heart sank into my feet.
There were ships on the horizon. Greeks.
"Oh gods" the words left my lips in a breathless gasp and my chest suddenly felt as though I had been kicked by a horse. Below me, I could vaguely hear that chaos was breaking loose as our people sought to shelter themselves and their loved ones behind the fortress walls but I did not see them. My eyes remained fixated on the dark forms that marred the perfect mirror of the water's surface and my hands tightened on the railing of my balcony.
All of a sudden, the noise of panicked people and animals became crystal clear and my gut lurched alarmingly, causing me to return swiftly to my room. I barely made it to my privy before my stomach emptied its contents and, as such, I did not hear my bedroom door open and close nor someone enter my room.
I was abruptly made aware of the latter when a pair of warm hands swept my hair back from my face and shoulders "Ismena, were you drinking again last night?" Andromache inquired shakily. I could only shake my head in the negative then, strangely, my limbs stopped shaking, my mind cleared, and my insides calmed.
It was as if my body had rid itself of fear as well as last night's dinner and, suddenly, I felt an almost overwhelming need to kill. To convince myself that I had control over something. I wanted to feel my bow in my hands, to draw the string back and feel the smooth shaft of an arrow between my fingers, to sight my prey and watch it fall as the arrow pierced its heart. I wanted to kill every Greek that dared to set foot on my country's soil, cut them to pieces, and tan the hides into leather to make saddles.
The feeling soon passed, leaving me wondering where it had come from in the first place. I had always been predisposed to anger and violence but never had it been quite so graphic as it was in those few moments. For that brief period of time, I could actually see the blood of my enemies staining the pale sand red and vultures landing to feed on their remains. "Ares must be toying with me" I thought absently then thanked my cousin as she handed me a damp cloth to wipe my face.
"Do you think it was something you ate?" my cousin asked worriedly.
"No" I replied once I was able to speak coherently and something occurred to me that made me freeze in place. Something that had nothing to do with the nausea. While immensely grateful for being considered not attractive enough to merit Apollo's attention, I had forgotten that at least one of the gods was not so much concerned with fragile beauty as he was with fire and gore. To make matters worse, I had also used said god's ill-fated affair as justification for my own behavior towards Paris, who was highly favored by Aphrodite. That explained both why the prince kept coming around, why he had provoked me by laying on my bed, and what he had said about my supposed disapproval of his first choice.
He knew that his behavior angered me, knew that I could not ignore it, and therefore knew that I would confront him. By using his knowledge of my character, he had gotten my attention and succeeded where every suitor before him had failed while I, because of my disdain for him, refused to think twice about it.
It was a trap...and I had walked right into it.
"By the steaming pits of Hades" I muttered darkly, more than a little horrified by my discovery "I might as well have drawn him a map". Aphrodite had been drawn to Ares by his beauty and fire and Paris was attracted to me for the same reasons but, unlike the god of war, I had not taken advantage of it because the attraction was not mutual.
Or was it?
My head was starting to hurt again and I touched the bridge of my nose as if to physically turn my thoughts back to the situation at hand.
"I saw the ships. The Greeks are here" I said and my cousin nodded, wide-eyed, her face pale with fear yet to be voiced. She and Hektor had been the first to see them and he had gone down to alert the king then lead the army in the first assault, leaving her scared and feeling helpless.
Despite my unclothed state, she did not recoil from my embrace and I held her as her tears wet my hair. We used to bathe together as children so nudity was not and never had been an object between us. "I am afraid...I have this feeling, that I will lose him" she whispered in a strangled voice that could have belonged to a child.
A lump rose in my throat and I fought back tears of my own "I am afraid I will lose you" I replied quietly and it was the truth. My father and sister had not wanted to see me since my mother's death because I was the reflection of her, right down to my seemingly odd green eyes. So, instead of losing only my mother, I lost my whole family and my cousin was all I had left.
With the arrival of the dawn, the first part of Cassandra's prophesy had come to pass.
I prayed to any gods and goddesses who would listen, that the rest would not. That it was merely another horrible dream from which I would wake up soon, go and play with Astyanax, eat breakfast with my surrogate family then watch Briseis dance for Apollo in the temple and everything would be normal.
It was the only prayer in my life that was not answered.
Andromache pulled back then stopped and brought one hand up to touch the left side of my neck, her eyes narrowing "Ismena, where did you get this mark?" she inquired suspiciously. "What mark?" I was completely confused and had no idea what she was referring to until she picked up my mirror and handed it to me so that I could see myself.
There, on the left side of my neck, was a small purple bruise and the blood drained from my face, leaving me as white as a sheet, as I remembered that the man in the dream had bit me there. I had been marked. "I have no idea" I answered honestly "I had a dream that I was being ravaged by someone and he bit me but I don't know who he was and when I woke up, I was alone in my room".
Andromache didn't look convinced but we were both aware that now was not the time to be fussing about a bruise on my skin, no matter how mysterious it was. Our country was at war and we were both needed to fulfill our respective roles. Hers as princess and mine as protector of the heir. "I will let it go for now but I want to know...was Paris in here last night?" she asked point blank and I sighed "he came to talk to me but I told him that I was in no mood for idle conversation and he left".
It was only half true but I knew that if I told her what he had said to me; we would be short one prince and he didn't deserve a swift death, nor did I want her to be imprisoned for murder. She nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response, and I breathed a word of thanks under my breath as she turned away and we left my privy.
I'd been marked by some mysterious man, realized that I might have developed a secret fondness for someone I loathed, and attracted the attention of a violent and temperamental god. If that all wasn't enough, the Greeks had just arrived to wage war on our country.
And I hadn't even had breakfast yet.