For seven days, Cassandra lied in her bed. She refused food or company. Cassandra wanted to forgo water, too, but her baser instincts wouldn't let her.

Once a day, never at the same time, she would crawl out from underneath her blankets and go to her bedchamber door. Without fail, a fresh pitcher of water would sit just beyond it. She'd gulp down as much as she could, then leave the sometimes half empty, sometimes empty pitcher where she'd found it and return to bed.

Though she didn't want to, Cassandra slept. Her dreams fared no better than her waking thoughts. She swore her prophecies mingled with her dreams, but she'd lost the ability to discern the two.

Each time she woke, Cassandra would convince herself all that had happened with Hermes and Apollo had been a nightmare. Once, she'd even told herself she'd never met a herdsman in the woods.

But her lies never held.

Reality would crash through her weak imaginings, and she'd cry out and wrap her blankets tight around herself. She always hoped they'd suffocate her, but her prayer went unheard.

Part of Cassandra knew she felt so terrible because of Eros' spell.

By the fourth day, she wanted to fling herself out of her window just to find reprieve. Death was better than her sickening desire for Hermes.

How had she resisted in the past and not lose her wits?

But by the end of the fifth day, Eros' influence cracked, then dissipated altogether. That night, she slept better than on the previous days.

Cassandra's relief at her freedom didn't last long.

What did it matter if she felt better?

She'd ruined everything with Apollo.

How could she move forward without him?

Anger so hot it twisted her stomach replied to this question.

Yes, she'd acted like a fool, but it hadn't been her fault. And the sun god knew that. Forces beyond her control had affected her, and Apollo had cursed her for it.

If he refused to understand, did that mean he didn't love her? Had he only wanted her as Hermes had?

Early night on the seventh day, someone knocked on Cassandra's door.

She'd been dozing off and jumped at the sound and sat up. She hadn't heard it in days (after day three, everyone had given up), and on impulse called out, "What?"

"Open the door, please," said Helenus.

Tears fell at the worry Cassandra heard in her twin's voice. She didn't want to hurt anyone else, especially not Helenus. But Cassandra couldn't face the world. She didn't want to accept her new cold, lonely reality.

"No."

Cassandra expected him to plead further, like in the past.

He didn't, and she cried harder.

Why had she sent him away?

She needed his comfort, needed reminding of her family's love for her.

A loud boom echoed on her door. It came again, then the inside lock busted, and the door opened so fast it bounced off the wall. The next moment, Helenus entered her bedchamber.

"What do you think you're doing? You broke my lock."

Hecuba strode in behind her son. "Don't be upset with him. I asked him to do it."

Cassandra glared at her twin. "Did you have to be so willing?"

Helenus frowned. "I'm sorry, but we're all so concerned. Are you ill? What's wrong?"

The Queen touched Helenus' arm. "Let me speak to her."

"But—"

Hecuba shoved him toward the door. "You two can visit later."

Helenus' lips parted, and his chest puffed out like Priam's did when his demands weren't being met.

Hecuba stared him down, unbowed. Her young son's ire couldn't match the decades she'd dealt with the King's indignation.

Their battle of wills ended when Helenus' shoulders slumped, and he averted his eyes.

Hecuba kissed his cheek. "You're such a splendid boy, caring for your sister."

Helenus took the Queen's hands. His attention flicked to Cassandra, then back to Hecuba. "Will she be all right?"

"Yes. Now go tell the cook to prepare her a light meal with plenty of liquid."

Helenus nodded, and he smiled at Cassandra. "Talk to you soon."

Cassandra didn't respond, and her twin exited her bedchamber with a frown.

Once sure he'd gone, Hecuba shut the door. The Queen walked over to Cassandra's bed and sat close to her daughter. She regarded Cassandra, then grasped her daughter's chin and tilted her head toward the light from the window.

"Well, you're not with child. Thank the gods for small mercies."

Cassandra pushed her mother away. "W-Why would you say that?"

"My little honeycomb, I know what's kept you confined to this room."

The breath caught in Cassandra's throat.

The Queen couldn't have guessed her dilemma. While Hecuba spun many tales about the gods and her interactions with them, Cassandra doubted her mother would believe her encounters with Apollo and Hermes.

"What is it you think has kept me in here?"

"Your heart has been broken."

Hecuba's observation skills never ceased to amaze Cassandra. The Queen didn't act stupid, but she scarcely displayed her true self. She did it so infrequently Cassandra often bought Hecuba's lie, most the palace did.

"I-I—You—"

The Queen rested a finger against Cassandra's lips. "You have nothing to fear. Your secret is safe with me."

"Why?"

Hecuba chuckled. "The men that surround you need not be privy to all your life. Especially not about forbidden lovers."

Her mother's words shocked her. "You've had a secret lover?"

None of the many handsome servants, slaves, or guardsmen would deny the Queen if she pursued them. But it seemed so unlike her mother. Hecuba and Priam shared one heart, no one could claim otherwise.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face for her mother laughed harder and shook her head. "No, no. When I was young, around your age."

"Why have you never mentioned him before?"

Hecuba's good humor evaporated. "Like most first loves, it ended in tragedy." Her eyes glazed over. "Though many can't compare with mine."

"Mother, don't."

The Queen tucked Cassandra's dirty curls behind her ears, her gaze still unfocused. "You know, you're much more like me than your father. In my early years, I often snuck off to places I shouldn't have." She frowned. "Unlike you, I did it to escape my father."

Cassandra winced. She never liked to hear about her grandfather. He'd been a horrid man who'd deserved his grisly end—trampled to death by the very horse he'd preferred to his daughter.

"It was because of my father," Hecuba continued, "that I met Raleus. After a nasty bout of my father's temper, I ran away. I had it in my mind I could sneak onto a ship, and the Fates would see me to a better place."

A soft smile tugged at the Queen's lips. "Raleus discovered me and laughed when I told him what I intended. Oh, he infuriated me, but he was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. I didn't know it then, but I fell in love with him on the spot.

"He convinced me to return home. After that day, for weeks, I found every excuse to visit him. At first, he resisted my advances. He told me how it was against the law, that he was too old for me, that I'd regret my actions afterward. Nothing he said deterred me, and he caved.

"Our love, though short-lived, was the greatest Aphrodite had ever conjured. For a few moments, I'd found paradise. Before Raleus, I'd never known true happiness."

"What happened?"

Hecuba sighed. "My father grew suspicious and instructed a servant to follow me. The servant reported I rendezvoused with Raleus, and my father had my love bound and gagged and tossed into the sea.

"I prayed to Poseidon to spare him. I doubt he did, but... I like to imagine Raleus is living well on an uncharted island."

More tears stained Cassandra's cheeks. "How did you endure? This pain... I could die, it's so terrible."

And her mother's situation had been so much worse than Cassandra's.

The Queen wrapped her arms around Cassandra and cradled her close. "Time will lessen it, I promise. Sooner than you believe, your heart will heal, and you'll move forward." She kissed Cassandra's forehead. "But you can't give up. Life is too wonderful to leave it so early."

"I don't know if I can."

Hecuba squeezed her daughter. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. You're much like me. After I grieved over my father's horrible deed, I picked up my shattered heart. I won't lie, it wasn't easy. I even swore I'd never love again, but then your father came along. I took another chance, and my fate turned out better than I could have ever hoped for. You'll be just as lucky."

Cassandra didn't believe her mother, not in her core, but she let the Queen's fantasy dull her pain. Her mother was wrong about much, but not about Cassandra moving forward.

While she knew she'd never risk love a second time, she couldn't let her sadness get the better of her.

Cassandra had to thrive for Troy's survival.