"My Lady!" A callused, slender hand shook my shoulder. I moaned, sitting up.My mouth tasted stale and my head pounded even worse than the night before. The slave at my bedside offered me a cup of cool water.

I took it, sipping slowly. After finishing the goblet I turned to the slave.

"How is my husband?" The slave took the small, gold wrought cup before answering.

"The king is waiting for you to break his fast with-" I stood, smiling.

"Well, let's not keep him waiting then." The sound of feet slapping against tile and an excited, girlish shriek made me smile. Only Hermione. I waited until my daughter had skidded to a stop a few feet from me, panting heavily.

She was lovely as only a child of a happy union could be. She shared her father's hair and his nose, but all else of her features were mine. I held my arms out, smiling softly at her.

"Mother! Did you see prince Paris-" My blood froze. Though my daughter's mouth continued to move, I didn't hear what came after. I took a deep breath and patted my daughter's wildly curly hair in a vain attempt to soothe my nerves.

I smiled before speaking.

"My darling, yes I did meet the prince of Troy. He was as all princes, silly and arrogant, much different to your lord father." This earned a nod from Hermione. How she loved her papa. It brought my heart great joy.

"Have you had the chance to see him today, my little firebrand?" Hermione shook her head.

"Then let us get ready and break our fast with him." I let go of my daughter, standing and motioning for both the slave and Hermione's slave, to begin getting us ready for the day.

We were both oiled, massaged, and scaped down. Our mouths were cleaned first with urine and then a twig dipped in salt. Then we rinsed with wine and chewed a sprig of mint. The slaves worked with deft hands to rub rose oil on our bodies until we had a healthy glow like mother of pearl.

The slaves then brought out a selection of clothing for me, and hermione, being already dressed in a simple pale saffron robe of silk with a red belt of organza tied around her waist and shoulders, helped choose a garment.

"Simple white with red and a gold disk belt should suffice." A slave held up a shimmering silk chiton with gold buttons in the shape of roses up for my inspection. I would like to show solidarity and show that I do not need to be overly ostentatious for my husband. I nodded, letting the slave wrap the soft linen around my chest, securing my breasts in place, and knotting it under them.

They then worked the chiton over my head and my arms through the sleeves, moving to knot a rope of silk the color of snow. Next came slippers of fine leather and soft, white, summer weight wool, embroidered with pale blue.

Finally my hair was parted from one era to the other across the back, a silk band with pale blue sequins knotted in between the lower and upper halves of my hair and my hair was tucked into itself.

A small bracelet of coral beads as big as my thumbnail was looped onto my wrists and neck and A slave offered up a palla in soft blue wool. It was wrapped around me and fastened with a gold circular fibula.

When my daughter's hair was done in the same style as my own, we set off to break our fast.

The smaller hall, farther to the left than the great hall, was bathed in sunlight and it reflected off of the fine bronze tableware in soft beams. My husband was jubilant and smiling as we descended the stairs.

"My two favorite women in all the world! Each day it grows harder to tell you apart. Now..." He rested his chin on his fist, looking between the two of us.

"Ah! I know, it is my wife who has the red hair and my daughter that has the blonde!" We shared a laugh. Menalaus came around the table to hug both of us and guide us to our chairs.

"You are truly lucky to have a loving wife and daughter." My stomach roiled and once more I wished for undiluted wine. As a compromise I took a small sip and looked up at the speaker. It was Aeneas, son of Aphrodite.

My mind and stomach settled. I smiled at my husband and grazed a hand over his kickles. We had just begun to eat a meal of braised salmon, dark grain bread, very diluted white wine, and a small plate of stuffed dates filled with honey and nuts when Paris walked in, wearing a chiton, fastened over one shoulder, of dark blue with gold edges and fastened with a silver fibula. It left his tan chest and sinewy muscles bare

I could see the similarities between the two of them; they shared the same tilt of their mouth and nose. Aneaus, dressed like a battle ready general though he may be, wears these features better.

Paris looked only at me as he filled his plate with small balls of white cheese, spice stuffed olives, a salmon, three stuffed dates and poured a generous glass of wine. I tore off a small piece of bread that I shared with hermione and rolled it, dipping it in olive oil before chewing slowly, hardly tasting it.

My darling hermione, not noticing the tension in the room, asked Aneaus about his mother.

To this Aneaus laughed, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Little princess, no one has been so forthright in a great while." he smiled wider, his chest still heaving. After taking a large bite of salmon drizzled with honey and chasing it down with a ball of cheese, he continued.

"Unfortunately I cannot tell you who my mother was, but I can tell you that she looks near identical to your own and is very loving and kind." At this everyone looked at me. I flushed and smiled at Aeneas.

"That is very kind of you, but surely all sons love their mothers thusly." This made Aneas chuckle. I took a bite of salmon.

"There is nothing better than a good mother!" Menelaus made the toast, and we all followed in his stead.

When our bellies were filled and the last of the wine drunk, I stood, winding my arm through menelaus'. Hermione and I walked with him to the docks, where burly sailors and slaves loaded crates, amphora's and bolts of cloth and items of innumerable wealth and comfort.

I shared one last heart stopping kiss with my husband, holding him tightly, not wanting to let me go.

"I can't attend my father's funeral if you don't let go, darling." As I let him go, he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. He scooped up Hermione, spinning her around making her shriek and giggle.

"Papa," Hermione asked, tugging on menelaus' chiton. He knelt down so he was at eye level with her.

"When will you be back?" We both watched him intently. He looked up at me and then back at her.

"I will return when my father's funeral games are over. I should be back in about a month." Menelaus stands and pries his signet ring off of his middle finger, giving it to me. The iron, polished and well loved, is still warm from his hand. I clasp it to my chest, feeling a tremor of sobs start to build.

"I won't be gone long, my love. You will have plenty to keep you busy." With a last kiss for me and an affectionate ruffle of Hermione's hair, he left us standing on the dock.We stayed on the dock until his retinue of ships were gone from sight.

I have never felt this deep sadness come over me before. Though I have always missed him when he went away, it feels like a shadow has cast itself over my whole being.

"Mama, look." Hermione tugged at my palla.

"What is it my love?" I held her close, looking back toward the land. Paris looked at us from the edge of the dock, where the sand met the water, smiling.