You don’t know how I am? Can’t you tell by the proud lift of my head, as well as my splendid helm with its white horsehair crest? I’m Hector, first Prince of Troy. No, not Hektor, Hector. I am Trojan, after all, a royal from the most powerful city in the world, not some measely Achaen. Our culture gave birth to the greatest civilization in the world, an empire which will stretch its arms out, all over the world. This is of some comfort to me, having a vision of this bright future, regardless of how dark my personal one may be. My author has given me less than Homer or many other mythologists have. I was meant to play a bigger role in ‘Aissa and Polyxena’, but my part was cut, so the story would meet submission requirements. I doubt even that small part will see the light of day. Hopefully, our author will not give up on ‘Aissa and Polyxena’, finding a home for myself and the other characters, if our story isn’t accepted. Perhaps my part will return to its original size, if our author does. The first prince of Troy shouldn’t have a smaller part than his younger brother. Yes, I know Troile is young. He’s at the age, when a boy starts collecting lovers, if he’s at all comely. Why, by the gods, did he have to collect Achille, of all people? Here, I thought Paris winning Helen from her husband was ill advised! One of the very Achaens laying siege to our city is wooing my younger brother! Well, I’ll put a stop to that. If Achille wants Troile for himself, he’ll have to see me in battle first. This, I swear by the wrath of Athene, which Paris unwisely brought down on us all. Achille won’t touch one hair on Troile’s head, until he’s dealt with me, first!