Worth Loving

Worth Loving

Prologue

Before you can understand the tale that you are about to hear, you should know what happened in my infancy. I have been told the story over and over, and still hear it many times so that I have now memorised it by heart.

My mother, Helen, daughter of Zeus, married king Menelaus, my father. But apparently, she was obliged to marry, her heart held no love for him. But he did not love her either, but was simply overcome by desire. He even made her pose naked in front of a hundred kings, or so I read.

The entries in her diary are surprising, and reveal a woman who gained happiness only once and had it taken away from her by her own country. My father only began to love her when he was sure that he wasn't loved in return.

A Trojan owned my mother's heart. Paris was his name, prince of Troy. He loved her like no one ever did, and for that, he paid a high price: his own life. But not before ruining his entire family. His brother, Hector, was killed by Achilles, who, according to my mother, was a bastard who only wanted glory. His sister, Cassandra, is said to have gone out of her mind. His parents died a painful death...in the end, the whole kingdom of Troy was destroyed and my mother...raped.

All for...love. She just wanted love. Was it too much to ask? Is it not true that love conquers all? To me, it's another Greek myth, just like many others. She died...died of sadness when I was twelve. All for love. She just wanted to love and be loved in return. Such beauty that my father says she had only signed her death warrant.

They say I have that kind of unmatched beauty too. I don't care. All I see is that I need my mother with me, and I don't have her. Is it my father's fault? I guess I'll never know. They tell me only what I just told you, but never a why.

"Your mother was a whore," I hear the maids say. That I don't see it that way is not their concern.

My mother died for love...or is that just a romantic story? I'll never know. How could I? All I know is that they took the most important being of my life away from me, despite my love for her. Then why bother? Why do you dare to love if all that brings is chaos?

The kingdom of Sparta is my heritance. It is my duty to take care of it. For that, I have made a decision. I will never love.

Hermione

Chapter 1: A Mutual Friend

"Harry! Harry!" a squeaky voice was heard.

"Ugh!" Harry complained with a roll of his eyes. He did not like anyone to interrupt his exercise routine.

Harry, was the son of the fallen Hector, prince of Troy and heir to the Trojan throne. He could melt the hearts of women by merely walking by.

Maybe that was why he preferred to stay inside the castle as much as possible, or rather, in his room. There, he contented himself with practising the fighting techniques that his father had taught him before his death.

"Damn Spartans. Stupid Paris," he cursed under his breath. Frankly, his late uncle Paris had been responsible for his father's death; running after a married damsel, one that was sure to bring the kingdom of Troy to its doom. All for love...or was it that he wanted to lay with the daughter of Zeus? That was just ludicrous. No dame was worth his brother's life.

"Your highness! " A maid opened the door to his chamber. She could have been beautiful, if he wasn't accustomed to her being a royal pain in the arse.

He sighed in complaint, finishing his push-ups a few numbers early and wiping his sweat with a linen cloth.

"What do you want?" he asked her, his voice cold.

"Oh, good morning sire," the maid giggled.

"Hello. Well?"

"What..." the maid lowered her head, turning a reddish colour.

Harry sighed once more, although this time, it was in annoyance as he noticed that he was still half dressed and the maid's eyes were firmly attached to his sweaty chest.

He wiped the wetness away and put on the white shirt that was supposed to go under the armour that had once belonged to his father.

"You were saying?" Harry tried to get it out of her for the third time. No results...just stammers and giggles.

"Are you done there?" A brown-haired man entered Harry's room, much to his gratitude.

"Your highness," the maid bowed to the visitor, Oliver, prince of Ithaca.

Oliver was the son of Odysseus and Penelope, throne owners of Ithaca. Dressed in a black tunic covered with a mauve cloak, he approached the maid.

"It's all right. I'll look after it from here," he assured her. Seeing that she didn't retreat her eyesight from Harry, Oliver took her by her arm and closed the door in her face, before turning to his friend, "So, how has your morning been?" he smiled while Harry gave him a fierce look.

"It was fine until a moment ago," he replied.

"Well, I'm happy to ruin it for you," Oliver joked.

"Why have you come?" Harry asked him, aware that from Ithaca to Troy stood three days of unpleasant battles with sea winds.

"What? Can't I visit one of my best friends?" Oliver grinned, but Harry refused to rise to the bait.

"And ruin your best ship? I doubt it."

"It wasn't my ship. My father's."

"Regardless, you don't spend three days battling Aeolous for a pleasurable visit," Harry stated, referring to the Greek god of wind.

.

"Fine. Father had a talk with Menelaus a couple of days ago."

"How grand," Harry responded with evident sarcasm.

"Apparently, Menelaus doesn't think Cassandra is capable of ruling Troy."

"Nor do I," Harry snapped. He was quite sick of his aunt's 'visions'.

"Really? You do know what that means, don't you Harry?" Oliver crossed his arms.

"Not going to happen."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not interested in the throne, for the thousandth time."

"It's either you or a Spartan."

"Bring forth the Spartans then."

"Knowing Menelaus, he's going to send her all right."

"Who?"

"His daughter."