The smell of laurel and lavender faded. Heat and dust took over.
The street was narrow. Too tight for two carts.
Dirty water leaked between the bricks, shining sick green under the sun.
The air felt heavy. Sweat, dung, burnt fish.
Each breath tasted of ash.
Vendors' cries rose and fell. Pottery bowls, coarse cloth, flawed bronze goods cluttered the ground.
Barefoot children chased each other near the dirty water. Shouting and laughing.
In all this noise, Aeneas and Creusa stood out. Like two fine white stallions in a pigsty.
Their clothes were too clean. Their gold too bright. Their posture too straight.
With every step, the stares around them swelled and ebbed like a tide. Full of curiosity, awe, even a hint of hostility.
Achates, Nisus, and Euryalus followed ten paces behind.
A slight smile played on Euryalus's lips. He'd probably already crafted half a dozen jokes.
Nisus nudged him with an elbow. No change in expression. He muttered a warning. "Don't."
Achates was like a hawk. His eyes constantly scanned the crowd. His hand never left the hilt of his short sword. Alert to every possible shadow.
Aeneas walked on, thinking to himself.
(This place is a Bronze Age slum exhibition. Live and in person. The sanitary conditions... gods. The social divide is thicker than the city walls. No wonder Troy later... Never mind. Don't go there. Just focus on dealing with this princess with her aura of frost.)
He cleared his throat. Turned slightly toward her. Tried to lighten the frozen silence.
"So—um—about that marriage proposal the King mentioned. You really don't need to feel pressured."
He forced a smile. "I haven't formally asked my father's opinion either. If we both think it's not suitable, I can just say—well—that I didn't know he'd already arranged other duties for me. Just treat today like you're out for a walk with a friend. Or... a temporary guard. Alright?"
The words barely left his mouth when Creusa stopped dead.
She turned. Her grey-blue eyes flashed, almost angry.
The crowd pushed and swirled around her, waves on stone. She didn't move. Just stared at Aeneas.
"You—" Her voice was cold enough to freeze. "How dare you even think of deceiving the King?"
Aeneas was taken aback. "Huh? I—"
"And!" Her words came faster now, anger piling up layer by layer. "While I have no wish to be a political pawn, your dismissive tone is even more—" She let out a sharp breath, reining it in. "Even more infuriating!"
Aeneas instinctively ran a hand through his messy gold-black hair. Utterly bewildered.
"Look, your highness, that's not really fair, is it?" He tried to sound calm, but frustration leaked through. "You're the one who doesn't want this match. I'm just trying to find a way for us both to back out gracefully. How is this suddenly my fault?"
He paused. Then decided to be blunt.
"So, which is it? Do you want to marry me or not?"
The air hung still for a beat.
The market cries seemed distant. Even the whining dog on the corner fell silent.
Creusa's cheeks flushed a deep crimson. Like she'd been scalded.
She opened her mouth. But anger stole her words. She just shot him a fierce glare. Turned on her heel and strode away quickly.
"Hey, I—" Aeneas reached out. Wanted to fix it. Felt it would only make things worse. He gave a wry smile and hurried after her.
Ten paces back, Euryalus couldn't hold it in. He clamped both hands over his mouth. His shoulders shook with silent laughter.
Nisus hissed at him. "Rein it in."
Achates didn't turn. Just murmured,
"Wait till the princess actually loses it and stomps on our dumb young master. Then you can laugh."
That made Euryalus choke even harder, a strangled snort escaping.
Creusa moved swiftly through the crowd. Mud splattered the hem of her dress.
The angry flush on her face hadn't faded, but her pace gradually slowed. She reached a relatively quiet street corner and finally stopped.
There was only a weathered stone wall and a dust-coated olive tree. Its shadow swayed gently, blocking some of the harsh sun.
She took several deep breaths. The rising and falling of her chest slowly eased.
After a moment, she could sense Aeneas had stopped behind her. Not too close, not too far.
The youth stood in silence. No urging. No words. Just waiting.
This quietness made the emotions bottled inside her even harder to ignore.
She didn't turn. Her voice trembled lightly in the still air.
"What I… resent, is not being assigned to a specific person."
She spoke softly. Her tone was like a stone worn smooth by the wind, with a fine tremor.
"What I resent is that feeling—the helplessness of having no choice in my own fate. Who will my husband be?
Will he love me for who I am, or for the power, the bloodline, the alliance I represent?"
She finally turned around. A stubborn light glittered in her grey-blue eyes.
"As a princess, I was taught obedience from childhood."
She bit out each word.
"But why can men choose to go to war, choose freedom, while women… are only traded like goods to secure alliances?"
Aeneas frowned slightly. He watched her seriously. Didn't interrupt.
His calm eyes reflected her barely contained fury.
Creusa gave a cold laugh. It was full of bitterness.
"What makes me sicker is the double standard. Women must guard their virtue unto death, while men can take countless concubines as they please."
The corner of her lip quivered. Her tone held a barely concealed, shameful anger.
"Do you know how many concubines my illustrious father has?
I only know he has eighty-six children—so many concubines he probably can't even remember all their names or faces!"
Her voice dropped as she said this. As if the strength had drained from her.
"But what can I do about it?"
She lowered her gaze. A weariness showed on her face. It didn't belong on a young woman.
"Even Helen—that woman hailed as the most beautiful in all Greece—
was just a political bargaining chip for her father. Traded for power.
Used, fought over, discussed. She didn't even have the right to choose who to love…"
"Helen?!"
Aeneas's voice shot up. As if he'd been struck by lightning.
He stepped forward without thinking. Grabbed her hands. His eyes were wide with shock and urgency.
"You mean—you know about Helen?"
Creusa was startled by his sudden move. She pulled her hands free. Took half a step back. Frowned.
"Everyone knows the name of the most beautiful woman in Greece. Is it that strange?"
Her tone was confused. Tinged with offended pride.
"My brothers, Hector and Paris… they set out for Sparta on a friendly visit just three days ago. Why are you so interested?"
"Three days ago?!"
Aeneas's face went pale. His pupils constricted. His breathing quickened.
He seemed not to hear her question. His lips trembled.
"They left three days ago?!"
Creusa stared. The young man, calm and proper a moment ago, now looked rattled.
His voice shook. Real fear in it.
His face twisted too much, not like him at all.
She let out a small "pfft" of laughter before she could stop it. Then coughed, pretending it was nothing.
She lifted a finger, tapped her chin. Light, thoughtful. Struggling to regain her composure.
"To be precise, they left at dawn three days ago. You—why are you so alarmed?"
Aeneas's thoughts churned wildly—
(Three days... They've been gone three days! Too late to stop them!
The wheels of history are turning again... Damn that Paris, that selfish, lovesick fool!
He's about to send the whole of Troy to the funeral pyre...
Counting the sea voyage, the 'friendly visit' in Sparta, the Greek response and mobilization—
I have at most three, four months!
I need to light up the military tech tree first! Fortify the lands, prepare weapons, stockpile grain...)
His eyes darted rapidly. He forced down the tsunami of panic inside. Slapped his familiar smile back on his face.
"Ha! It's nothing. Just trying to make you laugh, see?"
He brushed it off lightly, winking.
"You laughed just now, didn't you? So, mission accomplished?"
Creusa was taken aback. This sudden shift to a flippant tone left her both annoyed and amused.
(Was he... just putting on an act to make me laugh?)
(It seems... no one has ever gone to such lengths just to cheer me up. And this whole time, he's managed to make me smile several times already... Perhaps... marrying him wouldn't be so hard to accept after all?)