Cry of Cassandra

10 | Cassandra

EDITED

He had returned.

My brother, Paris returned to Troy after beating every single participant, my brothers included, at the annual games.

He was supposed to die years ago.  A prophesy when he was born had declared that he would be the ruin of Troy and after meeting him I immediately agreed.  He would certainly be someone's ruin.

After having lived as the simple son of a shepherd I was unsure how his ego had managed to grow unchecked as it had.  He was already rubbing me the wrong way.

"Sister," he nodded to me as we made our way to supper.  I felt his gaze on me and turned to see him looking me up and down, eyes filled with judgement.  His lips were pursed, nose scrunched up as he eyed me.  "You choose to wear that, you, a princess," he snorted.

I sighed, choosing to ignore the latter part of his greeting.  "Brother," I replied in return with a slight nod.

He raised his perfect brows at that.  I wonder if he plucked them, they were almost unaturally perfect.

We continued the rest of the way to the banquet hall in silence.

My parents stood up to greet him as we made our way to our respective seats.  They had chosen to disregard the prophesy, seeing his return as a sign from the Gods themselves.  "Paris dear," my mother cried, arms open.

"Son," my father said with a small smile and a nod.

I took my seat beside Hector as they exchanged greetings, stomach roiling and twisting with unease.

The one good thing about his arrival is my sister's and their friends mocked me less with the excitement surrounding him.

Taking their seats after a few minutes, my father turned to Paris.  "Would you like to say the prayers for our food son?"

He had been hungrily eyeing the food, reaching for a hand full of olives when my father had spoken.  "Of course," he said reluctantly.  "Thank you Hestia, Demeter and Dyonosis for this bounty."

Then he took a hand full of olives, popping one in his mouth.

I stared at him incredulously.  That was it?  He had been raised by a shepherd, not a barbarian.  My parents and siblings looked startled as well for a moment before they decided to take it in stride.

My father began to serve himself and everyone else followed suit.

"Did you hear that Helen of Sparta is going to marry," one of my half sisters whispered to her friend.

"No!  That one is trouble," she sniffed.

My sister nodded in agreement.  "Indeed.  Remember when she was kidnapped at 12?  They say that her beauty is as otherworldly as Aphrodite's."

Another of my half sisters joined in.  "They were fighting over her like she was a piece of meat.  I wonder if it was solely for her hand in marriage, or for Sparta as well..."

"It certainly doesn't hurt," my first sister replied.  

I snorted at that causing my sister nearest me to eye me in disdain.  "Is there something you would like to say," Paris called from a few seats down the table.  He had a slight smirk on, his eyes glinting with trouble.

"No.  Well, yes actually."  I had everyone's attention now.  I squirmed in my seat in discomfort.

"Well, what is it," he drawled.  He served himself more goat's cheese drizzled with honey as he eyed me with a blank face, then poured himself another goblet of wine.  He was already starting his third plate I noted, scrunching up my nose at his poor manners.

"Yes," I whispered.  Then I repeated myself in a slightly louder voice.  "Yes."

He eyed me expectantly then.

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