"A good, hot bath after plunging into the chaos of battle, with the stench of blood still clinging to me, is truly the best thing in this world," Khillea murmured, her lips curling into a satisfied smirk as she sank deeper into the steaming water.
Her cheeks were flushed, though whether from the heat of the bath or some deeper, strange pleasure brought on by the thought of war, it was impossible to tell.
The air around her was thick with the scent of the herbs that floated in the water, meant to cleanse and soothe, but for Khillea, they were mere afterthoughts. What she reveled in wasn't the calm of the bath, but the thrill of the battle that had led to this moment of respite. There was no denying it: Khillea loved war.
Loved the clash of blades, the cries of fallen foes, and the rush of knowing she had survived another day on the battlefield.
She tilted her head back, letting her damp, dark hair spill over the edge of the bath as her servant, Briseis, dutifully finished washing it. Khillea's eyes gleamed with something wild, untamed.
"Don't you agree, Briseis?" she asked, turning her head slightly to glance at the girl who stood behind her, hands trembling as she worked.
Briseis hesitated, her lips pressing together before she answered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't know. I've never fought. I don't know what it feels like."
Khillea's laugh was low, almost indulgent, as if Briseis's innocence amused her. She raised one leg out of the water, admiring the way the droplets clung to her pale, well-sculpted limb, embellished with thin, intricate scars that told their own tales of battle.
"You should learn," Khillea said, her voice light but carrying an edge of seriousness beneath it. "There's no feeling quite like it. It reminds you that you're truly alive. When your blood is pumping, your heart racing, and death is just a breath away... that's when you know what living really is."
Briseis remained silent, her hands moving to wring out the washcloth, trying to hide the slight tremble in her fingers.
"Why are you attacking us?"
The question lingered in the steamy air for a moment, and Khillea's smirk deepened as she leaned back against the smooth stone of the bath. "Why do you ask?" she replied, the amusement still playing in her tone, though her eyes had grown sharper.
Briseis swallowed, but pressed on, her voice gaining a bit of strength. "Is it for Agamemnon? His brother... the one who lost Queen Helen?"
At the mention of Agamemnon, Khillea's expression changed, darkening into something almost contemptuous. The playful spark in her eyes dulled, replaced by irritation as she scoffed.
"Agamemnon? Ha! What a joke. I couldn't care less about him or his pitiful, cuckolded brother," she spat, her annoyance palpable. "I am here on my own volition, not because of some ridiculous feud over a stolen woman."
"It's either immortal glory or that," she said, her smirk widening, though her eyes still held that distant gleam. "I made my decision the day I left my homeland, my territory. But..." Her voice lowered slightly, and the smirk faltered for a brief second. "I'm not going to give up just because my mother said I can only have one of them."
Briseis tilted her head, confused by the contradiction in her words. "Wh... what do you mean?" she asked, furrowing her brows.
Khillea's smile returned in full force, more predatory now, as if she had some secret plan brewing in her mind. "I want to leave behind an immortal legacy of my prowess, yes, but I also want to leave behind a personal one."
Briseis's eyes widened slightly, the meaning behind Khillea's words dawning on her. "A child? But your mother said..."
"Yes, yes, yes," Khillea interrupted, sulking as she turned away again, splashing water in frustration. "I know what my mother said. She's told me time and again—if I choose to take part in this war, I forfeit any chance of children. But that doesn't mean I'm just going to lie down and do nothing about it. Or not even try?" She scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. "That would be pathetic."
Briseis nodded slowly, though inwardly, she couldn't help but feel that no matter how much Khillea tried, she would not be able to escape the fate foretold by Thetis, a goddess. Prophecies, especially those from divine lips, were rarely wrong. If stepping foot in Troy meant that Khillea would never have children and would ultimately die, then surely it was a fate that could not be avoided.
Still, Briseis hesitated to voice this, sensing that Khillea wouldn't take kindly to being reminded of the harshness of her destiny. Instead, she offered a more practical response. "There are plenty of men, so I suppose you have a wide choice," she said cautiously, keeping her true thoughts to herself.
Khillea burst out laughing, her mirth echoing off the tent walls, though there was a bitter edge to her laughter. "Are you joking?" she asked, amusement lighting up her face. "Have you seen those men? Most of them are nothing more than brutes, driven by their own base desires and lust for battle. They're hardly the kind of men I'd want to leave a legacy with."
She shook her head, her laughter fading as she considered her options more seriously. Khillea wanted a child, something more than just the immortal glory she had been promised—a living legacy that would carry on her name and bloodline. She would sleep with a stranger, if necessary, to make it happen. But the real question was who? NovelFire-original-content
None of the Greek kings, that much she was certain of. Khillea despised most of them, seeing them as weak or foolish men driven by petty squabbles and personal ambition. Agamemnon, in particular, filled her with disdain. The thought of bearing a child with a man like him made her skin crawl.
Then there was Menelaus—pathetic in his obsession over Helen, as if his lost queen was the only thing that mattered in the world.
Maybe Odysseus, she mused for a brief moment. He was cunning and intelligent, traits Khillea could respect. But even that idea quickly died. Odysseus was utterly devoted to his wife, Penelope. His loyalty to her was renowned, and Khillea knew that trying to seduce a man like him would be pointless.
"There will be definitely someone worthy of you." Briseis said but didn't think really that. Her thoughts about the Greek men were really not good. For her they were all trashes after she had witnessed what they had done to her city and to the women...
"Maybe..." Khillea mumbled not believing herself that she will ever find someone worthy of her.
As expected she will just have to sleep with the first stranger who seemed somewhat good enough.