This is a story of a woman of extraordinary beauty, prestige and wealth. I met her during my wanderings through the Peloponnese when I found myself at the palace of
Sparta. The queen, having heard of my presence, requested a meeting.
I still remember that day as one of my most memorable experiences. You see, I had
the privilege of meeting Helen, the woman who sparked and whetted many a man’s
dream, including mine. She honoured me with her story, the same one I am about to
share with you.
My name is not important, for I am traveller who tells stories of heroes, heroines and histories, so these events are not forgotten.
This is Helen’s story…
‘I am not to blame for what happened to Troy or the Trojans, the Achaeans and those who have since died or been lost on their return home. Oh, I know how it looks, but the truth has been lost in a quagmire of slush. I have heard the rumours.’ She smiled, though it did not reach her clear shining blue eyes.
‘What rumours?’ I asked, knowing full well what has been said.
The Queen of Sparta stared over my shoulder, seemingly lost in a time and place only she could see. She is older now but her beauty is still something to behold. Her once blonde hair has faded and been replaced by silver. Her oval face has a smattering of wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and yet is otherwise still flawless. Age has not touched her; if anything she looks even more stunning. Even now her body is as supple and alluring as when she was a young woman.
I asked her how she has defied the call of the advancing years. She laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I caught my breath. She was sexuality personified.
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