Besides the Queen, Aesacus had the best view the palace offered. His chambers were off the throne room and doubled as where he slept and where he performed many of his priest duties.

Cassandra knocked on her brother's closed door but received no answer. She pressed her ear against the door and heard movement inside.

"Aesacus?"

The noises ceased.

"Aesacus?"

A lengthy silence.

Then, "Go away."

"Please, I need to speak with you."

Aesacus sighed. "Fine. Come in."

Cassandra opened the door and stopped short of entering the room.

Aesacus' bedchamber looked like a gusty wind had gone through it. Herbs, linens, ceremonial tools, and clothing littered the floor. Half-full packs sat on her brother's bed.

"What's going on?"

Aesacus shook his head. "Why are you here?"

"I... I need to speak to you about a vision I had."

The color drained from her brother's face. "About Paris and the great goddesses?"

"Great goddesses?"

"You saw three unique birds, each a representation of an Olympian goddess."

Cassandra wanted to kick herself for her stupidity.

How could she have missed the obvious? How many times had Apollo told her to think of her visions' symbolisms?

"Why would they seek him out?"

"They wanted him to decide."

"The apple..."

Aesacus nodded. "I'm not sure what the apple signifies, but I know Paris' action has doomed us all." He rubbed his eyes. "If only the King had ensured his death."

Anger blocked Cassandra's fear. "Paris is wonderful, and I'm glad he's alive."

Her brother smirked. "Yet, because he lives, you're now in danger."

"I—We could be wrong!"

Aesacus' smug expression vanished. "I wish we were. I don't want—I love Troy, and I'd rather die than see it destroyed. But my sight hasn't led me astray."

Cassandra sagged against the door, close to crying again. She ran her fingers through her damp hair. "How do we reverse what he's done?"

Aesacus sat on his bed and fingered a dagger with a bone-white handle covered with yellow gemstones that sat near one of the packs. His gaze never left the weapon as he said, "We could kill him."

Cassandra gasped. "You aren't serious?"

"I would be if I knew it'd solve the problem Paris has created, but I don't know what his death would do. I don't want to risk a goddess' wrath."

"So, we do nothing?"

"No." Cassandra's hope spiked, then her brother continued. "I suggest you leave like I am."

"You're running away?"

Aesacus continued caressing the dagger; still wouldn't look at her. "If I stay, I'll hurt Paris. You're right, he's a good person. Harming him will only end with the King taking my head. If the King chose not to kill me, I'd take my life. I couldn't lie with the guilt."

"Instead of leaving, tell the King, or convince Paris to retract his verdict. Fleeing isn't the right thing."

Her brother swallowed hard, then lifted his gaze. Since the start of their conversation, he looked as if he'd aged a decade. The sight of the fine lines around his eyes and mouth reminded Cassandra how many years separated her and her oldest brother, of how he could pass for her father.

"I tried telling the King, but he wouldn't listen. Since Paris' return, I've lost his trust." Tears shimmered in Aesacus' eyes. "I have no purpose now. Even if Paris hadn't sealed Troy's fate, I'd still leave."

"But... but we can talk sense into Paris."

Cassandra lunged toward Aesacus, and, for the first time, took her brother's hand.

"Please, he'll ignore me if I approach him. No one knows of my gift, but you have noted experience. I can't fix this without you."

Aesacus pulled away from her. His attention returned to his dagger. "There's no fixing this."

"How can you act so cowardly?"

"I'm sorry."

Spite influenced Cassandra's next words.

"May you never find happiness. If you do, I pray the gods rip it from you in the cruelest way possible."

She spun on her heel and bolted out of the bedchamber.

Cassandra didn't focus on her surroundings as she raced through the palace, her thoughts on her prophecies of Troy and how to stop them from coming true.

Though Aesacus' fear left her on the edge of bleakness, Cassandra wouldn't give into it. A solution existed if she was intelligent enough to discover it.

She rounded a corner and collided with a person. She tripped and would have crumpled to the floor if the person didn't grasp her elbow.

Cassandra steadied herself.

"Thank you. I wasn't—"

Disbelief stole her words.

Paris grinned and pushed his wet hair out of his face. He hadn't changed, and his clothing dripped water. "It's fine. No harm was done."

"I-I'm glad."

He eyed her, then pointed at the pin on her left shoulder. "It isn't fastened straight."

Cassandra let loose a nervous giggle and adjusted the pin. "I... I had a mishap in the w—on my walk."

Paris grunted.

"You... got caught in the storm?"

Her brother blanched. "I wanted to... practice my marksmanship and didn't pay attention to the weather." He picked at his chiton. "I want to be as good as Deiphobus, or, if the gods see fit to favor me, Hector. Last time I went hunting with them, I made a fool of myself."

"Oh... well, give it time. Your talent has the same potential."

Paris chuckled. "I hope so, but it doesn't look promising."

Cassandra smiled.

Paris patted Cassandra's arm. "We should change before we get sick."

He turned to walk away.

"Paris..."

He looked over his shoulder, apprehension etched in his features. "Yes?"

"Don't take this as an insult, for I'm sure you're already aware, but now that you're a prince of Troy... all you do will affect this nation. And our family."

The weary look fell from Paris' face. A soft grin graced his lips as he reached for Cassandra.

She entered his embrace.

"I know we haven't spent as much time together as either of us would like, and you don't trust me."

"No, that's not—"

"I swear on my life, I'll do nothing to endanger our home or family. I love you and Troy too much to cause you pain."

He squeezed her tight, then released her. Paris searched her face. "Feel better?"

She didn't, but she said, "Yes."

Cassandra saw no point in furthering the discussion. She couldn't say much more without revealing her secrets.

Paris grinned again. "Good." He eyed their clothing once more. "We need to change."

Cassandra nodded.

Her brother stepped away from her.

On impulse, she called out, "Beware of gods' gifts. Often they're curses in disguise."

Her brother's footing faltered, but he didn't stop.