Worth Loving

Chapter 5: Flaring Dinner

"Hey," Fleur smiled at Oliver while coming out of her room, startling him in the process. She was dressed in midnight blue Trojan apparel with a pale blue mantel draped over her shoulders, her hair combed into a graceful braid.

After almost jumping from the fright, Oliver turned to look at her, stopping in the middle of the hallway.

"Oh, hello," Oliver smiled back shyly.

"What, were you expecting somebody else?"

"No. I just did not expect you...to come out so abruptly,"

"Oh, can I then assume that you do not like spontaneity? Pity, spontaneity can lead to

more...desirable things," Fleur smiled once more, though in a more... seductive manner. This was the type of personality that she did not dare show in Sparta, but this was not Sparta.

"Really? Like what?" Oliver stammered. Was Hermione sure that this was indeed her sister?

"Mm. You will find out in no time, I can assure you of that," Fleur replied, and that was a promise she would absolutely cling to. In the meantime..." So, escort me to dinner?"

"Sorry?"

"Well, your room is next to mine and I do not like to go to dinner unaccompanied. Plus, I could get to know you better, since you are a friend of my sister's and all..."

"Oh sure, why not?" he offered his arm to her as they descended the stairs.

****

Harry spat his drink all over the table as the Spartan princess walked into the room.

Hermione was wearing hunter green Trojan attire, his favourite colour, and it looked astoundingly good dangling over the curves of her slender body. Her hair was fastened with a pin, but her curls were loosened over her shoulders, making her face clearly visible. She wore a mauve mantel and her lips were painted glossy punch. She really was a beauty.

"Harry, are you all right, dear?" his aunt drifted him away from his thoughts, but her eyes caught everything and as they followed Harry's gaze, she scoffed, "You know, your father used to call her mother, the Goddess from Hell," she whispered.

"Pardon me?" Harry turned to look at her.

But before she could repeat her statement, Hermione took a seat across from the prince, without muttering so much as a 'good evening' to him. Instead, she turned to the queen.

"Good evening, your majesty," she said in a courteous manner, but her voice was cold.

"Nice of you to join us, Herminia," Alexandra smirked icily.

Hermione simply lifted her wine goblet to her lips. Clearly she was angry, to say the least, but her manners told her that the table was not the best place to settle royal confrontations.

Seconds later, Oliver descended, Fleur beside him.

"Good evening," he smiled, looking at Hermione and then at Harry, who both gave a weak smile.

Oliver seated Fleur, but before he could move across the table, she shoved him into the chair next to her as the feast was brought to the table. It consisted of turkey, accompanied by grapes and some more local fruits.

"So tell us, 'Herm', what brings you to Troy?" Alexandra asked.

"My name is Hermione, your majesty," the princess repeated for the thousandth time, "And I am here on my father's command. He feels that you are not capable of ruling

Troy anymore."

"Oh, yes. How is your father?" Alexandria pretended to be interested.

"Alive unfortunately," Hermione murmured, "In good health," that was the response Alexandria heard.

"Well, the offer has come right on time, I must say. I was looking forward to my retirement."

"Good. Let me assure you, it will come soon," Hermione affirmed, a little too excited to be exact.

"May I ask who is to take the throne?"

"I was aware Prince Harry had the right to the throne," Hermione glanced at the prince, "We will see where things lead. It could be him, or a more qualified candidate. "

"Really? Would that be a Spartan?" Alexandra narrowed her eyes at the mere word.

"Actually, your majesty, I am capable of taking the throne; that is what my father wants. But I am much more keen with the idea of letting someone of your country rule it, if that is all right with you of course," Hermione offered a cold, sarcastic smile.

"And you think you know how to pick a worthy candidate for the throne? Do me a favour, Hermione..."

"Mm, you got my name right."

"You let me worry about the successor and you book yourself an early trip home, what do you say?"

Hermione was now enraged. But she would not let the queen have her way.

"Your majesty, as much as I would love to do that, I came here with a task, and guess what? I do not intend to leave until I complete it. So, it appears like we will see our faces around your palace for time to come," Hermione smiled once more at the queen's displeasured face, and Oliver had to put a hand against his mouth to keep from laughing. "Let us drink to that," Hermione raised her goblet, "To your health." Everyone raised their goblet, as was polite, while Hermione took the wine to her lips as Alexandra leaned to whisper in her ear.

"This...command of yours, does it imply a test for the future king in the bedroom before he takes the throne, or is that after?"

That got quite the reaction from Helen's daughter, considering she spat all the liquid from her mouth across the table, more specifically, on Harry's face.

"Hermione, are you all right?" Oliver inquired as she coughed. Fleur took a linen napkin and handed it to Harry.

"I am fine, just, bad wine," Hermione answered, standing up. She exited the dining room without even excusing herself. She figured that if she stayed any longer, she might just beat the queen into a bloody pulp.

"She must be feeling ill. I'll go and check on her," Fleur followed after her sister, Oliver behind her.

Alexandra smirked, swallowed some water, and looked at her nephew.

"Are you all right? These Spartan girls can be so...unpredictable."

"Undoubtedly," Harry whispered as he cleaned up his face.

****

"She is fine. Just a really bad day, I suppose," Fleur assured Oliver, who escorted her to her bedroom just because his was near by.

"That is certainly good to hear. Well, good night," he smiled at her.

"Make sure the bed bugs do not bite?" she looked at him seductively.

"I find it so hard to believe that you and Hermione are sisters. You are so different," he observed.

"Would you care to test that theory out?" Fleur drew closer to him.

"Uh, good night," Oliver retired to his bedroom in a flash, leaving Fleur to her own naughty thoughts of what she would do with the prince of Ithaca once she had him.

****

Hermione could not sleep. It was just...too much. She always knew coming to Troy would mean facing her mother's past. That was precisely why she had tried to avoid it, but no such luck.

She could not stay in bed any longer, so she opted for a quick walk, deciding that she just needed some air.

The door creaked open and she was out in her nightgown and robe, her wavy hair blowing against the night's wind.

It was a cold, but beautiful night. The full moon could be seen above the palace and Hermione could not help but become mesmerised by it, until a cold voice made her shake from fright.

"Roaming the palace halls after dark princess? You really shouldn't."