Helen had never been one to poor over politics and war. She was a lady, merely the daughter of a King and the wife to one. Though she had seen hardships in her youth, she had been raised to smile, nod and look pretty. After all, she was the heir to the kingdom of Sparta and the famed maiden with a goddesses face.

Recently however, Helen began to change. She spent more time in the library and drawing room and would sit in meetings with her husband. The court looked upon her with distrust and venom, but nevertheless, she persisted.

It happened one warm, autumn day that Helen happened to be passing by a royal adviser at the very moment she was brought into the conversation.

"Her majesty is out of line. For centuries, no woman has dared sit in on the council meetings, let alone attempt to understand them," the rich red fabric of his tunic swirled around him as he leaned closer to the other advisor. "I know the king trusts her and believes she is harmless, but you haven't seen the way she talks when he's not around. Her eyes are calculating and I know she must be up to something."

The man in the red peered over his shoulder, making sure no one had heard his treasonous remarks.

"I am inclined to agree with you." The deep rumble of his partner echoed through the hall. "Why would the gods bless someone with such beauty if not to showcase the power and ruthlessness of a goddess hidden beneath."

Helen eased herself from behind the column she had taken refuge with. The gold embroidery on her skirt reflected the dying sun as she retreated down the hall. The men continued to murmur as her figure drew away. The sharp cheekbones and soft lips could do nothing to hide the storm in her eyes.