Disclaimer: I do not own Troy or any of the affiliated characters

Chapter 2: The Trouble with Beauty

Adara continued until she reached the entrance hall, where she discovered that most of the chaos had passed. She caught no sight of Paris and the woman, but did see Hector and Andromache down a hallway to her left. She watched Hector kiss his wife and son, who then left, and the prince turned his attention to somewhere out the window. Adara knew how troubled he was when he didn't even hear her come up beside him.

"Hello, Hector," she said, shocking him out of his thought. He smiled in greeting, but he obviously wasn't all right. She put a hand on his shoulder. "What happened?"

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. "The meeting in Greece didn't exactly...end well."

"Does it have something to do with the woman with Paris?"

Hector let out a tired little half-laugh, though he didn't sound very amused himself. "She is Helen of...well, I suppose it's Princess Helen of Troy now."

"And who was she before?"

He took a breath. "Queen Helen of Sparta, wife of King Menelaus." Hector watched as Adara's eyes widened, her eyebrows shooting up. "Yes, it's a bit of an issue."

"What were they thinking?" she said before she could stop herself. Immediately, her eyes grew even wider, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Her father was a high-ranking and well-respected official in the King's advisory council. She had grown up with Hector and Paris, seeing them as her siblings, along with her actual brother Carius. But despite their relationship, it was not her place to question the actions of the prince.

But Hector barely even batted an eye at her comment. "In less kind words, I said the same thing." His shoulders fell a little. "You would think he would understand that there is no chance the Greeks will let this opportunity to wage war on us pass. We'll have ships on our shores within two days, maybe even tomorrow."

"Hector!" They both turned to see the owner of the voice, Carius, coming down the hall towards them. "I just heard," he said when he was with them at the window. "King Priam has requested a meeting with us and my father so they can better understand the situation."

"Now?" Hector asked.

Carius nodded. "Before the feast starts." He turned to his sister. "Adara, please excuse us."

"Of course," she replied. Both men were thankful for a sister who understood the crisis at hand. There was still an hour before the feast was to start, and as the two walked to the king's chambers, Adara started towards her rooms in the palace. With everything that had just gone on, she had almost forgotten that she still had her bag and ambrosia with her.

When she arrived in her room, she put the bag on the bed and looked around for a safe place for the ambrosia. As her eyes scanned every inch of the room, her attention was drawn by a loose tile in the corner. She'd tripped over it more than once on her way to the window. Now she could finally put it to good use.

She crossed the room and knelt on the ground. The setting sun gave her sufficient light, and with much pulling and twisting, she slowly removed the square of tile and laid it aside.

What she saw now were criss-crossing wooden planks that ran perpendicular and parallel to the floor, forming the skeleton structure of the palace. She placed the pouch in the nearest box-like compartment, then replaced the tile and stood up, surveying her handiwork. Happy with what she accomplished, Adara looked down at her dirty hands and dusty clothes and hurried to the bathroom. She took off her daywear, bathed quickly, and donned a plain, white dress. She had just smoothed the last of the wrinkles when a knock came at her door.

"Come in," she called, desperately hoping she hadn't lost track of time and was late.

Carius opened the door and popped his head in. "The feast is about to begin." Adara gave one last brush to her hair before joining her brother in the hallway. He looked her up and down.

"What?" she asked, looking down as well, worrying that she'd missed a wrinkle or hadn't seen a stain.

"You get more beautiful everyday."

"Oh, please, Carius," she said, though she smiled in spite of herself.

He offered her and arm, which she accepted, and they started walking. "I'm just glad I got here when I did."

"Why?" Adara asked, keeping her voice low, thinking it had something to do with the conversation with Hector, their father, and King Priam.

"Because if I had waited any longer, there would have been a mile-long line of escorts waiting for you." He grinned, like he used to grin when they were children and he had an evil idea.

"Carius!" She blushed.

"I'm completely serious," he said, ignoring the death glare she was shooting him. "Have you seen the way the men look at you?"

Trying to look dignified, she straightened up and answered, "I haven't the faintest idea of what you are speaking."

"Really?" he asked. "I'm surprised. I thought you would have at least noticed Alanor." Adara noticeably tensed at the name of the young man who tried to have a terribly forced conversation with her daily. Carius grinned wickedly. "Last time, he was practically drooling."

Before he had time to react, Adara's elbow connected quickly and painfully with Carius's ribs. She continued walking to the entrance to the dining hall, just in front of them, even though her brother had stopped, doubled over, holding his side and working on breathing normally.

She paused and turned when she reached to doors. Keeping a straight face, she said, "What's taking so long? We mustn't be late."

Carius took one more moment before standing up - not completely straight - and closing the distance between them, wincing with every breath. When he reached her side, she took his arm and led him into the hall. He noticed the satisfied smile on her face and the slight spring in her step.

Surrounded by noise from other conversations, Carius knew he was safe when he muttered, "I bet Alanor doesn't know that side of you."

Due to the night's seating arrangements, Adara had multiple opportunities to see this Helen of Troy. And she wasn't the only one. She wasn't sure what Carius had been talking about, because for every man that cast a glance her way, there were at least five just staring at the blonde beauty.

"Except for Alanor," Carius replied when she mentioned it. She turned her head to see if her brother was just teasing the poor man or if he was actually being serious. She found out when she immediately made direct eye contact with Alanor. At that moment, his food fell off of his fork and into his lap. He didn't notice until the empty utensil was in his mouth. When he looked to see what had happened, Adara took the moment to become very interested in the food on her own plate. It wasn't that she didn't like Alanor; he was sweet and his actions did flatter her, but the feelings were not mutual.

Her attention was caught by Carius, who had seen the whole episode and was now having trouble stifling his snicker. She aimed another elbow shot at his ribs, but this time he was ready and stopped it. "Now, now, Adara," he said in a tone that matched that of their mother's whenever she scolded them, "you know better than to do that at the table."

Their mother, a few chairs down, suddenly shot them a knowing look, and both quieted.

"Maybe it's the hair," Carius commented a moment later, returning the conversation to Helen. Adara raised her eyebrow in a silent question. "Well, how many Trojans have blond hair? It's a Greek trademark. That, and the lighter skin."

Adara highly doubted that was the reason why every man in the room - including Carius - had his eyes on Helen. The woman was breathtaking, and despite her blatant discomfort, she still maintained that regal aura.

"How highly ranking is King Menelaus, exactly?" she asked.

She blinked in response to her brother's sudden change of expression, and though she wanted to know more about the situation, wished he didn't look so troubled. "Things are different in Greece, as far as kings rank. Each king rules over an area, and as far as things go, Menelaus is rather powerful. And his brother, Agamemnon, is probably the highest ranking."

"Like how we see Paris and Hector?"

He thought for a moment before shrugging. "Yes, in ranking, I suppose there are similarities. But Paris has proven himself more foolish than Menelaus, and Agamemnon is more power hungry than Hector could ever be."

"What do you mean?"

He drained his wine, unsettled by the thought. "When the Greeks arrive for a war, Agamemnon won't be fighting to take Helen. He'll be fighting to take Troy."

As Carius called for more wine, she pushed her food away, her appetite gone. When the Greeks arrive. There was no doubt in her brother's mind that there would be a war, starting as early as the next day, if she remembered correctly what Hector had said.

She looked up at the prince, who was looking at Paris and Helen with a grave expression. Paris seemed ignorantly blissful, but as soon as he looked up and saw his brother's face, Adara saw it wasn't ignorance, but rather force. The look in his eyes now matched Helen's, and it was clear that they both understood the consequences of their actions.

"Adara!" a voice called from down the hallway, echoing off the walls as she made her way back to her room from the feast.

Immediately, she recognized the voice, but was surprised to see Daan there. His red face proved he had ran to catch up with her. He walked the remainder of the way to her, but his breathing was labored slightly. Daan would never admit it, but he was getting old. Adara just knew better than to bring it up.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?" he asked.

She wondered if this was a trick question, and hoped she answered correctly in saying, "Besides my lesson with you?"

Daan shook his head, not seeming to notice the joke in her answer. "We won't be having class together tomorrow. The king has asked me to...take care of a few things."

No doubt about the coming war, Adara thought, not fooled.

"Instead, if you have no other plans, I was hoping you would spend most of the day at the Temple of Apollo by the shore. I'm running low on some herbs and flowers, and many grow down by the shore," he explained.

"Did you ask the priesthood?" Adara asked. The temple was in the priesthood's care, and she did not know if there was anything special going on the next day.

"Yes," he said with a nod. "Salus says it is fine by him. Tomorrow should be a rather quiet day for them, and I know you won't be a problem." He let that comment hang in the air for a moment - though he knew he didn't need to - before continuing, "Briseis will be there. She said she would help you find what you need."

The offer, which she would have accepted anyway, was much more appealing now that she would be spending time with her friend. "Of course."

Daan smiled. "Excellent. Briseis will meet you in my room tomorrow morning, and I'll give you a list."

"I'll be there," she assured him.

With a satisfied nod, he turned and walked back down the hallway. "Bright and early!" he called over his shoulder.

Adara sighed, remembering how she'd hoped to sleep in late some day soon.

Reviews are greatly appreciated! Things will start to pick up a little now