Paris
As I gently massage Helen's back, her skin feels like silk beneath my fingers. With a sweet soothing warmth that wraps around us in the peacefulness of the night. She lies nestled in my arms, lost in a peaceful sleep, but my mind races with thoughts of her past. It was overshadowed by the shadow of Menelaus.
My heart tightens as I trace the scars that mark her back. She keeps all her scars buried deep within. I can almost feel the weight of her reluctance to share those painful memories, and while I yearn to understand her pain and heartache, I recognize that some wounds run too deep to tell their stories. It breaks my heart to think of anyone hurting her. I feel a strong desire to help her heal, I want to love her like she deserves. A peaceful and honest romance.
Suddenly, Hector bursts into my chambers, his expression a mix of urgency and fear. "Where's father?" he demands, his voice loud in the quiet.
I sit up abruptly, startled. "Maybe he's taking a walk in the gardens," I reply, though my voice carries uncertainty.
"At night?" He raises his bow, tension laced on his face.
"He went to find Briseis, I think," I feel a knot of dread tightening in my stomach.
"He wouldn't…" Hector's words trail off, and I can feel panic fluttering in my chest. What is he thinking? One old man against thousands? I struggle to keep breathing, feeling lightheaded as despair begins to seep in.
"Paris, it will be alright," Hector tells me, but his words feel fake.
"We will find him."
Fair, pain, and wondering drag on as hours slip by, and still, there is no sign of our father, our king. Time drags on, and I find myself overwhelmed by hopelessness. Never before have I felt so lost.