"It is an honor to meet you, Lord Heiron!"

    Shortly after parting ways with Kassandra, another young woman appeared before me, radiating an air of youth and vivacity. Her name, if I recalled correctly, was Polyxena. She was Kassandra''s younger sister, and though she shared Kassandra''s striking beauty, there was a notable difference in their demeanor. Polyxena exuded a bright, cheerful energy that contrasted sharply with her older sister''s somber and burdened disposition.

    I tried to search my memory for any mention of her in the myths I knew, but nothing definitive surfaced. I chose to nod politely, keeping my thoughts to myself.

    "Likewise, Princess," I said courteously, maintaining the reserved poise befitting the situation.

    Her eyes sparkled with uncontained enthusiasm as she spoke. "You were truly amazing. Beating Ajax like that... such strength!"

    "I merely did the job I was paid for," I replied humbly, lowering my gaze slightly to downplay the compliment.

    "You''re being far too modest!" Polyxena giggled, the sound light and carefree. Before I could respond, she leaned forward, her soft breath grazing my cheek, and placed a gentle kiss just beside my lips.

    The action startled me, and I couldn''t help but look at her, wide-eyed. Her expression was one of innocent mischief, yet beneath it lay a genuine warmth.

    "Please," she said, her tone suddenly serious, "continue to protect my city and its people."

    With that, she turned and left, her graceful figure disappearing into the crowd before I could say a word.

    I glanced around, noticing a few onlookers who had witnessed the brief exchange. For a moment, I braced myself for murmurs or judgment—after all, a princess showing such affection to a foreigner could easily cause a stir. But to my surprise, no one seemed to object. Instead, I caught Hector''s gaze across the room, and he simply smiled knowingly, as if he had anticipated something like this.

    The evening continued, but I found myself restless. After an hour of mingling with the Trojans at the feast, I decided it was time to leave. I had spoken to most of the city''s nobles and warriors by then, all of whom offered their blessings or kind words. All, that is, except Paris.

    Throughout the feast, Paris had been shooting me annoyed glances from across the room. His disdain was almost palpable, though he lacked the courage to voice it outright. I couldn''t understand his animosity entirely, but if I had to guess, I''d attribute it to jealousy.

    It was a foolish emotion, really. If he desired the admiration of the Trojans, he had ample opportunity to earn it. But instead of fighting alongside his people at the front lines, Paris seemed content to remain in the shadow of Helen of Troy, the woman whose beauty had sparked this catastrophic war.

    To be fair, Helen''s beauty was unparalleled—her title as the most beautiful mortal woman on Earth was no exaggeration. Even I couldn''t deny her allure. But beauty alone didn''t excuse Paris from his responsibilities. As a prince of Troy, his duty was to his city and its people. Yet he shirked these responsibilities, leaving them to others—Hector, Kassandra, and the soldiers on the battlefield.

    Artemis''s eyes widened slightly, but she nodded in agreement. "All right. If that''s what you wish."

    "Gahaha! I will give you one as well! Rejoice!" Ares bellowed, his laughter echoing once more before he vanished without further ceremony.

    "I''ll see what I can offer," Aphrodite added, her words laced with a vague, almost teasing undertone. She lingered for a moment longer, her eyes meeting mine meaningfully, before she too disappeared.

    Just as I turned to leave, believing the encounter was over, Artemis''s voice stopped me. "Oh, yes, Heiron."

    I pivoted, meeting her gaze. Her merciless emerald eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. There was no trace of the faint smile from earlier. Her expression was pure steel.

    "If you touch Atalanta," she said softly, her voice a whisper that carried like a blade slicing through the stillness, "I will kill you."

    The killing intent radiating from her was suffocating, sending a chill down my spine. Her words left no room for misinterpretation. This wasn''t a threat; it was a promise. And then, in the blink of an eye, she vanished.

    I stood alone in the void for a moment, my thoughts racing. Artemis was not the goddess she appeared to be at first glance—not by any stretch. Her words lingered in my mind, a stark reminder of the fine line I walked.

    While I liked quite a lot Atalanta, I had no intention of provoking Artemis. The last thing I needed was to add another goddess to the growing list of divine beings I''d rather avoid crossing in the middle of a war.

    Shaking my head, I willed myself back to the mortal realm.

    I found myself back on my bed, but something felt off. A weight pressed down on me, unfamiliar yet unmistakably deliberate. My senses slowly returned, and as I blinked the lingering haze of the divine realm from my eyes, a fiery voice broke the silence.

    "You finally woke up?"

    My eyes adjusted to the dim light, and the sight that greeted me was both breathtaking and alarming.

    Penthesilea, the Amazonian queen herself, was sitting atop me—completely bare, her bronzed skin glistening faintly under the moonlight that seeped through the cracks in the shutters. Her untamed hair cascaded around her shoulders, and her piercing eyes glowed with predatory intent, locked onto mine.

    I froze, my mind racing to process the situation. Her lips curved into a sultry, knowing smile as she leaned forward, her warmth radiating against me. The air between us seemed to crackle with her sheer presence.

    "Now," she purred, her voice low and demanding, "give me your strong seed."