“I never loved you!”
The lie, patently untrue, hung in the air between the Trojan prince and the Spartan queen. At that moment, Helen wanted to dig furrows into his face, mar his famous beauty so that no one would ever want him again.
They were the beloved of the goddess, and while Her aspect upon them, people wanted them like they wanted to breathe. The war, now in it’s sixth year, proved that.
“We couldn’t help ourselves,” said Paris unsteadily. Even then he wanted her, had to stop himself from trying to touch her hair
“I tried,” she hissed.