Deafened by Bewilderment
In that instant, bewilderment left me deaf. Then came the urge to tear my hair out.
No! No way. You have to marry Menelaus! History demands it, and so does my plan.
Cold sweat beaded on my forehead in the blink of an eye. I wiped it away hastily and opened my mouth.
"It would be wise for the princess to choose with care. Selecting a spouse means turning the attention of countless men into the indifference of one. Even if regret follows, it'll be too late—take your time in deciding."
One of Benjamin Franklin's famous quotes. Perfectly suited for courtly etiquette.
I thought I'd responded eloquently enough, but Helen was no pushover.
"I prefer a man who comes home every evening, even if he's indifferent. After marriage, the greatest virtue is patience, wouldn't you say?"
"Uh..."
King Tyndareus, watching from the side, slapped his knee and burst into laughter as if it were the funniest thing.
"What do you think, Peleus? I didn't raise my daughter in vain, eh?"
"Indeed, Your Majesty. Countless phrases flicker through my mind and vanish, leaving me gaping like a fool without a fitting reply."
"Hahaha!"
This guy's a total doting dad. He's eating up the praise for his daughter.
Helen smiled softly, pleased by her father's delight. I had to admit it—she was stunning. The saying "a peony when standing, a magnolia when seated" fit her perfectly right now.
"Ow."
A sudden sharp pain snapped me back. Glancing down, I saw Atalante, seated to my left, had pinched my thigh hard. Her face was expressionless, as if nothing had happened, but under the table, her hand gripped my leg.
Looks like your face is melting from joy. Snap out of it.
She whispered without moving her lips. Ventriloguism. This scary woman was using ventriloquism.
Why the overreaction, though?
But Atalante wasn't the only one annoyed with me.
"Must be nice. Not satisfied with a beautiful silver-haired maiden at your side? Now it's Helen too? Quite the devil of a man."
Odysseus sneered with a rotten expression. I glanced around at the stares and whispered back to him.
"Jealousy doesn't suit you right now, does it?"
"Damn right. I'm dying of envy. What makes me so inferior that I don't catch Princess Helen's eye?!"
His shamelessness left me speechless. But it wasn't just them. Renowned sages and heroes glared at me, their faces full of displeasure. Probably pissed I showed up late and stole the spotlight.
Sensing the mood, King Tyndareus chuckled heartily.
"Pay it no mind, heroes. I merely asked my daughter's opinion. In the end, the marriage is mine to decide."
"And how do you plan to decide, Your Majesty?"
It was Odysseus asking boldly, as expected. True to character, never disappointing.
"Ah, you must be Odysseus. I'm planning a few tests. First, a hunting contest in four days. The one who brings the finest prey wins."
The mention of a hunting contest lit up every face. Hunting was heroes' favorite pastime, perfect for showing off skills. Each one confident in their prowess, eager to shine.
Then someone muttered, loud enough to be heard.
"Hmph. Some puffed-up braggart shows up, but soon the wheat will be separated from the chaff."
What? Looking around, I spotted a man with a bandit-like bushy beard. A long scar crossed his face, amplifying his ferocious look. Who was he? His clothes and ornaments screamed high nobility.
As I puzzled, Odysseus quickly informed me.
"That's Idomeneus. King of Crete."
Sparta's court was full of kings drawn by Helen's beauty. Idomeneus was one of them. He spat on the floor and wiped his mouth with his hand.
"He looks like a pretty boy gigolo. One toss of my thick spear, and he'll scamper off in fright."
"Wahahaha! Spot on!"
Clearly a hero of formidable might. In this mythic age, kings were often the strongest warriors in their lands. With Zeus's bloodline, he wouldn't be ordinary.
Damn Zeus. Half the kings out there are his spawn. Hera's practically a saint for putting up with it.
"Just gonna sit there?"
Odysseus stroked his mustache, amused, and prodded again. I chuckled lowly.
"Of course not. Being insulted isn't shameful. Failing to repay it tenfold, a hundredfold—that's the shame."
"Hahaha! The more I know you, the more entertaining you are. Odysseus here finds himself wanting to take your side, Peleus."
"Don't you want Helen?"
To my question, Odysseus made a sullen face, unlike his earlier jealousy—which seemed all for show.
"As if the world's greatest beauties are limited to her."
Strange. He'd hyped Helen's beauty exaggeratedly the whole trip to Sparta. Agamemnon and Menelaus, lacking beards, had dreamy looks. Even now, they stared at the quietly seated Helen, entranced. But Odysseus seemed unimpressed by her allure.
What was his real purpose here? I no longer believed it was courtship.
Secret Book. Odysseus's patron is Athena, right?
Correct. That bastard's greatly favored by the goddess of wisdom.
Hmm... So maybe his trip to Sparta ties to her will?
Sharp observation. Keep pondering that. What business does the goddess of wisdom have in Sparta?
No one could guess Athena's intentions. Even Odysseus's motives were opaque; a goddess's were abyssal. Still, allying with him seemed possible. More enemies than friends in this court, judging by the stares.
"Anyway, this pisses me off too much to sleep tonight. Gotta say my piece before leaving."
"Oh?"
Odysseus looked intrigued as I shot to my feet. All eyes turned to me.
"Your Majesty. Princess Helen has graciously named me today. Might I presume on that honor to address everyone?"
"Hohoho! What spirit! I love bold young men. Speak freely, Peleus."
With Tyndareus's permission, no holding back. Even quiet Helen watched me intently with a curious expression. The sages and heroes looked uncomfortable. Good. Time to make them squirm more.
"I have one wise saying for you all: Don't waste time on futile pursuits."
"What nonsense is that?"
Idomeneus, ever eager to bite, snapped immediately. Perfect response for me.
"The hunting contest is mine anyway. Go home, wash your feet, and sleep."
"What?! You little—!"
Idomeneus's face twisted into a scowl.
"Be cautious, Your Majesty. Your fragile reputation, like fine glass, shatters irreparably once broken."
"You've lost your mind! Fine! Prepare yourself at the contest. My spear doesn't just hunt game."
I burst out laughing instead.
"Even a dumb deer might dodge that clumsy spear. Think it'll even reach me? Speak sober, Your Majesty. Maybe then you'll sound halfway credible."
I flicked the wine cup in front of me, toppling it. Wine spilled toward Idomeneus. He trembled with rage at the insult.
"You insolent cur! Daring to speak that way to Crete's great king!"
Idomeneus drew his sword from his belt, rising to charge. But I was faster. Shifting tone, I bellowed:
"All who aspire to rival me, hear this! Charge if you must, relying on your petty divine blood! But know one thing: I too am chosen by supreme god Zeus!"
With that, I drew Zeus's sword from my belt. White lightning crackled from the elegantly curved blade.
"My god! That's—!"
"Zeus's sacred sword!"
Even heroes paled at the sight. I slammed it into the thick table—made from a millennium-old trunk. Crackle! Boom! Spiderweb scorch marks spread, shattering plates and food everywhere.
"While you chase mere boars, I slew Calydon's with one stroke. While you topple big brutes, I faced Thematos, Titan's heir. Still see me as a braggart?! The wielder of Zeus's approved blade—look down on him if you dare!"
The sword stole the show. Mycenae's famed treasure, unusable by any man—until now. Seeing its power unleashed firsthand shocked them all. Even rude Idomeneus gaped, stammering.
"Wh-what... A-a god?!"
"Shut it! I'll prove myself at the contest. If your spear aims wrong, mine will answer in kind! Step up if you're confident!"
Silence fell like honeyed muteness. I sheathed Zeus's sword; the lightning vanished.
"Ha! Masterpiece. A foreign prince wielding Zeus's sword—turns out it's true."
As others reeled, only Odysseus laughed amusedly.
I bowed politely to Tyndareus. "Your Majesty, I overstepped. Forgive me."
Though startled like the rest, the old king quickly composed himself. Seasoned indeed.
"In my lifetime, I witness Zeus's bestowed might. A mystical sight. But as you say, excessive—retire for the night."
It sounded like dismissal, but was consideration toward me. I bowed in thanks. Glancing up, Helen wore a faint smile. While other heroes tensed at the sword, she showed no perturbation.
What is Helen's true nature?
* * *
That night, I spent quiet time in my assigned palace chamber. One upside: no ambushes to worry about. The ever-vigilant Secret Book saw to that.
Peleus.
As dawn deepened, the Secret Book's quiet call snapped my eyes open.
What?
I replied while reaching for my sword—staying prone. Not Zeus's, but the royal blade for daily use, gifted when rescuing Agamemnon and King Atreus. Handy.
Intruder.
Which way?
Rear, balcony side.
The Secret Book bickered but fulfilled its role. My sharpened senses post-divinity easily detected the intruder. As they neared, I flung off the blanket and drew my sword.
"Who goes there?!"
The figure hesitated; I pinned them to the bed instantly. Sword in right hand, I flipped the blanket—and golden hair like sunlight cascaded out. A dizzyingly beautiful woman revealed her alluring form, wrapped like a treasure in silk.
"Princess Helen?"
The world's supreme beauty had invaded my bedroom at night. Flustered, I backed off. Helen dusted her clothes calmly and rose.
"You should learn proper etiquette for treating a princess first."
"My apologies. But at this hour..."
Her demeanor screamed anything but romance. Nor was my head full of flowers for such fantasies.
Helen sat in a nearby chair, her face grave as she made her request.
"Peleus. Help me."