“Just what is the meaning of this?!” Came a shrill cry as the one of the doors slammed open and out came a lady donned in a vibrant dark blue dress. Her auburn hair was disheveled, dress unkempt from struggling as she was being dragged by the guards against her will. “Unhand me, you filth!”

When she finally managed to tore herself free, all eyes in the room were on her. Everyone who was from the palace were present in the room; from the ladies-in-waiting to the simple gardener. The young lady was rendered speechless and startled by the sight.

“Deidamia, my eldest daughter.” The King regarded her despite the unruly entrance. “How fortunate it is that you can finally join us all.”

“Father! What is happening?” The princess cried as shame coloured her cheeks.

Instead of giving an explanation, the elder simply gestured for her to gather by the rest of her sisters. All seven of them. They snickered at her foolishness. Begrudgingly with contempt, she did what she was told with her head held high and proud, not before trying to make herself at least presentable, like a bird preening itself.

“We have guests!” One of them muttered. “They’re the reason why we were all dragged here.” Another added to their hushed gossip. Deidamia decides to give a loud, haughty outburst. “And just who gave them the authority to order us around?! Don’t they know they are within OUR reign?”

“Deidamia!” The king’s deep voice boomed within the walls of the room, his tone filled with warning. The servants held their breath along with the rest of the seven younger princesses. Deidamia was close to retorting back.

Odysseus raised a hand up in dismissal, to excuse the girl’s rude behavior. He can’t help but to feel a tiny pang of pity at how easily the king can be pushed around. Of course, that was none of his concern. Not wanting matters to escalate into petty arguments, he speaks up. “Why, under the orders of King Melenaus of Sparta.” This effectively shuts the eldest Princess up. Odysseus was pleased. The Princess was not. Diomedes, his taller and sturdier companion of the trio can only give a small huff of disapproval at the abuse of power. His armor clinked as he crossed his arms.

“Your highness, I could have sworn remembering you had seven daughters instead of eight.” Odysseus couldn’t help but to point out this very simple observation of his.

Deidamia leered at the tallest of them all with disdain.

The tallest had long, scarlet locks cascading down to frame her face, and with eyes of pure blue as though reflecting the colour of the sky at day. There was great beauty in her, albeit her height and broad shoulders. She was dressed in a red flowing dress with its ends skirting the floor. Oddly, instead of reacting to the scornful gaze of Deidamia, her focus was elsewhere or rather on someone else. Her hands were balled up, clutching the sides of her dress as she stared intensely at the youngest of the three companions.

Said youngest of the three had been distracted the entire time, his gaze, wary yet searching, flitted from one servant to another. No, not, nope. Not them Nor them. There was a mixture of fear and expectation each time he moves on to another face. As he steered his gaze towards the princesses, there was a pause of hesitation. The tallest one. His eyes studied her feature, there was something uncannily familiar about her. And when their eyes met, everything made sense.

Green and blue eyes were locked onto each other. The former was filled with uncertainty and doubt, widening later with recognition and panic. The latter remained narrowed, a steady look of resentment growing. The atmosphere between them was taut, both gaze unable to tear away from each other. Though, it might have gone unnoticed by the rest as the King, meanwhile, had been trying to reassure Odysseus that it was a mistake before diverting everyone’s attention towards the gifts, encouraging his daughters to take a look.

Odysseus snapped the younger out of his transfixed state with a harsh whisper. “Patroclus. Is Achilles here?”

Patroclus took a moment to gather himself, averted his gaze, before replying with an unsteady voice. “Uh, no.”

Odysseus raised a brow up, suspicious and unconvinced. He directed his view at the excitement coming from the pile of gifts. The princesses were fishing out gleaming earrings, necklaces and such, ordering their servants to come forth with mirrors so they can vainly admire themselves. Everything seemed normal except the odd behaviour from one of them that was unable to escape the watchful eyes of Odysseus. One of the girls had been secretly taking sidelong glances towards the pile of weapons instead.

Odysseus glanced to his left, caught Diomedes attention and gave a nod. The latter, understanding the hidden command, discreetly signaled to the soldiers at the rear end. They swiftly exited the room and moments later a trumpet blast was heard followed by more. The song of incoming war was playing.

The entire room was turned upside down. It was filled with the blur of people, mostly servants rushing about in terror to escape. The king was up on his feet. His guards close and surrounding him. Even Patroclus and the rest of the soldiers were on guard, grasping their weapons for battle. The princesses shrieked and fled for safety. All but one. She had snatched a sword and a shield from the pile with ease, before taking stance, a look of fiery and readiness to fight. The once red haired beauty; now replaced with short, boyish tousled golden locks as the red wig was knocked aside and left abandoned on the ground. The disguise gone. This wasn’t a princess. This was a prince. In a torn dress.

In the midst of the chaos, Odysseus and Diomedes, still remaining where they once stood, took in the sight with baffled amusement. There was a brief recall, a scene earlier this morning, where they were betting on the success of this plan despite how crazy it was. Diomedes now owns Odysseus a pack of smoke rolls.

“Is that Achilles, Odysseus?”

“It is so, Diomedes.”

They have managed to fish our their prey into revealing themselves; Achilles, Prince of Pythia and also a young and rumored skillful fighter of these lands.

Extra:

[To be honest, I chose to write about this story because of this scene.
Funfact: Achilles in the greek mythology was really disguised as a girl.]

<<< Chapter 1

Chapter 3 >>>