Janell Rhiannon

Fate always found its mark, one way or another.

Do all in Troy despise me?''That is a strong word, my sweet.'The young Queen of Sparta pulled away from her lover's arms. 'It is true then. I have exchanged one prison for another.'Paris gently brushed her cheek with his hand. 'If that is true, we are the most fortunate of prisoners. For we have each other and our love.

Helen looked up at Paris, her face wet with tears and blotchy with grief, and nodded her consent. 'Together we are chained on rocks before the beast of Poseidon. Naked and bare and helpless.''But we are more fortunate.''How so?' Helen asked.'We have each other as comfort in our misery.

Let the dead have the immortality of fame, but the living the immortality of love.

Eternity hums with every beating heart, with every up-lifted voice, with the crash of waves, the whirl of wind across the shifting dunes, the cry of sea birds, and the trumpets of heavenly angels.

She didn't know how she would survive when every breath stung, every tear burned, and every step took her further from the only man she'd ever loved.

Love is a poison,' her father responded. 'One you grow accustomed to, but does not kill you.