“Rise and shine, Lord Aetos!”

It is hardly the first light of dawn.

"Ugh. What god gave you the right to be so merry so early? Some of us were unconscious yesterday."

“No god, but you certainly did! Come back tomorrow, do you not recall the invitation?” He crosses his arms, leaning against the wall with a grin. “Fear not. I shall wait for you while you ready yourself.”

He curses, but rolls out of bed, wincing as aching muscles protest and his head spins warningly. 

"Very well. Accompany me."

He leads the other king to Cassandra, shielding his eyes from the daylight. 

"Now what did you want with her?"

“Dismiss the other servants. I require utter privacy.”

He will do so. 

Is this how she dies?

The other one is less known. More dangerous, despite appearances. 

Even if she doesn't die, what they might do - 

Will it be like living afterwards?

She says nothing. It never helps. 

He sits in front of her, taking her in up close.

A smile. “Hello.”

Oh gods he's so close it's coming-

Death flesh blood of priests fires in the cities tears of the gods storms in his hands and monsters from the deep and purple-hot fire

"Lord Ambrosios," she says. What else can she?

“I see we need no introduction then.” He watches the princess with fascination. “I trust that all your needs have been met, here?”

"I am well."

What is this? What is any of this?

What does he WANT?

“Good.”

They both grow restless. He will simply cut to the point, like an axe to an oak.

“If I may be so forward, Princess… I have heard of your gift of prophecy. Do you admit it to be true?”

Oh.

He wants to use her and he will be angry, so angry when he learns she's useless-

She never had time to find a way to use her curse-

It was hubris to think she could-

Apollo must have real prophecy, He must have seen this all so clearly the moment He cursed her, must have laughed inside-

All she can do is play out the doomed script. 

"I am sorry, my Lord. It is true, but I am cursed: Nobody shall believe me. I am truly sorry to have wasted your time."

Nobody…

A glint in his eye, he utters those words again. Aetos knows them well.

“Try me.”

Oh gods here it comes-

She doesn't get prophecies on demand, not quite - it's so hard to describe, hard to understand in her head -

it will be long years before you see her again 

A trick will bring Troy down

The gods swarm about this place like flies

Too much, too much-

"A sergeant of the Lord Menelaus's army will die tonight, his skull gnawed by wild dogs," she forces out of herself.

He won’t believe her–

“I see.” 

Should he try to find that man she spoke of and warn him of his impending gruesome death? No. If he has ever known anything in his life, it is that trying to meddle with prophecy only engraves it further into existence.

Besides, he could use that as a test. If the sergeant does indeed appear tonight, evidence of a meal for the wild dogs carved into his skull, then he will know for certain that she speaks true.

And if she does…

“Do you perceive the direction that this war will take?”

Oh no that's the worst one

He didn't disbelieve her straight away which has never happened before

She searches frantically for something that can't upset him

"I saw when Paris went to Sparta that it would be the doom of Troy."

“The doom of Troy, you say?” He leans forward in fascination, like a fisherman who has caught his first sea monster.

“Does that mean Ilium is destined to fall?”

The hope rises up in his chest for the first time in so long, the hope that maybe, maybe they will emerge from this victorious, that the war will end soon, that he can go home–

“How? What do the Fates tell you?”

Oh no there's no way out - she's going to have to directly deliver a prophecy and be disbelieved and then he'll believe they're doomed and be angry at her -

"A great act of cunning and trickery will bring low Troy," she tries. Maybe, just maybe, when he disbelieves her he'll think that means Troy will still fall but to an ordinary siege, and won't be as angry...

Will. She speaks in definite terms.

“What trick? Is there anything more you can tell me?” He presses, showing no signs of disbelief.

"Oh, come now, Ambrosios. The girl is guessing at best, or more likely mad. You cannot take seriously the ramblings of a frightened girl."