The younger merchant beamed when he saw me. “So it is true,” he exclaimed, taking in my royal garb, a gift from Lord Agamemnon. Once again my gown was bright with gloriously colored patterns, my tiered skirts jingling with precious ornaments. “You are a princess. When you traveled with us, we thought you were no more than an ordinary girl, though I must say, there was never anything ordinary about your loveliness.”
“Enough of that.” Prince Menelaus gave him a stormy look. “The lady Helen of Sparta wants to question you. She wants answers, not insolence.”
“It’s all right,” I said quickly, wondering why such a mild-mannered man as Prince Menelaus had turned suddenly stern over a trifling bit of flattery. “There’s a kind of kinship between travelers. I don’t think he’s being insolent at all.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” the merchant reassured us. He was carrying a polished olive-wood box, which he set at my feet. Opening the lid, he took out a long-handled mirror, very much like the one my mother owned, and offered it to me. “Noble Lady Helen, why should you be the only one unable to enjoy the gift of beauty you give to all the world?”
I took the mirror from his hands and looked into the circle of polished bronze. How long had it been since I’d last seen my own face? I recalled sharp features, harsh lines, the same awkward angles that had taken over my childish body and turned it into a gawky, gangling thing. But now…
I knew my body had changed again. I’d learned to master my long limbs, to move with the grace that successful swordsmanship demanded. I’d also experienced changes that made passing as a boy more than a simple matter of throwing on a tunic. Now, gazing into the mirror, I saw that my body wasn’t the only place where new curves and softness had made me a stranger to myself.
“Does my poor gift please you, Lady Helen?” the merchant asked.
Before I could answer, Prince Menelaus declared, “If Lady Helen likes it, it will be my gift to her. You will receive its weight in silver before you leave the palace, I promise you.”
The merchant looked stricken. “Mighty prince, I didn’t come here intending to make a profit. I only wanted to make the lady Helen smile.”
“You don’t need to concern yourself with Lady Helen’s smiles,” Prince Menelaus snapped. “You heard what I said. If she likes the mirror, she’ll accept it from me.”
“I’ll take nothing from anyone.” I put the mirror back in the box and looked at the merchant. “This isn’t about gifts, it’s about the future of a dear friend of mine.” I told the merchant about Milo as briefly as I could, including his bravery in defending me that night in Athens. I ended by asking, “If you agree to help him, will you promise me not to think of him as a former slave?”
The younger merchant laughed. “Only if he promises not to think of me as the son of a former slave. But tell me, does this Milo have a bandaged head?”
I nodded. “He was wounded trying to save me.”
“Ah, well then, I’m afraid he’s been too fast for you, Lady Helen. He came to us two days ago and said he’d heard we were the ones who’d brought you safely to Mykenae. He wanted to thank us. He thinks very highly of you. Very highly indeed.” He winked at me, in spite of Prince Menelaus’s scowl. “He’s also quite the clever lad. By the time he left us, he’d convinced my partner to take him on as a student of our trade. They left yesterday for Corinth. If he’s half as good at swaying customers as he was at persuading us—”
I didn’t hear the rest. I picked up my skirts and ran from the room, my bare feet pelting through the palace halls until I found my father. He was seated in an inner courtyard where violets bloomed and the sweet scent of a green myrtle tree perfumed the air.
“Milo’s gone!” I cried, throwing my arms around my father’s neck. “He’s gone, and he never even told me good-bye!”
“You’re wrong, dear one,” Father said. “He did tell you good-bye. He just couldn’t say it to you himself. He came to me two days ago to let me know he’d been given a wonderful chance, the chance to make a new life for himself, and he was going to take it.” He stroked my hair. “I understand why you’re upset, but this is for the best. I wish I knew why the gods play tricks on us. That boy has an honorable spirit and a brave heart. If he’d been born into a noble family, even if it weren’t a royal one, I wouldn’t mind having you marry—”
“Marry!” I stared at him. “Father, I love Milo dearly, but as a friend, nothing more.”
“Is that so? And does he know it?” I nodded firmly. My father sat back and stroked his beard. “Then perhaps his departure really is for the best…for him.”
I nestled against my father’s chest and he put one arm around me. I was aching with misery. “Is that why he left?” I asked. “Because I didn’t care for him the way he cared for me?”
“I think that was a part of it,” my father replied. “Don’t brood about it, child. Only Aphrodite can change what we feel in our hearts.”
“I hope he’ll be happy,” I murmured. “I pray Aphrodite will help him find someone who loves him as much as he loves her.”
“That’s a good prayer.” Father gave me a hug and stood up. “Now let’s find her shrine, and make sure she hears it.”
I smiled sadly. “Don’t the gods hear our prayers wherever we are?”
“Yes, but I think it’s best to speak with them in their own houses and bring them a little gift when you really want them to pay attention to what you’ve got to say.”
I followed him to the goddess’s temple, where we both made a sacrifice of wine and honey cakes. I prayed for Milo’s safety, for success in his new life, and for someone to share his heart. When I finished, one of the priests tried to sell me a pair of doves as an additional sacrifice, but I couldn’t bear the thought of shedding their innocent blood. Instead I took them from his hands and tossed them into the sky. I imagined them flying to the heights of Olympus, bearing my prayers in a whir of wings to the foot of Aphrodite’s throne. I hoped with all my heart that the goddess would stretch out her white hands and welcome them home.
EPILOGUE