Muses may sing of heroic deeds and ancient quarrels, but their lips can be silent, when it comes to hidden truths. Truths which shame lovers, who come together, even though honour, duty, and destiny has commanded them to be enemies. Commanded them to destroy each other, rather than to willingly seek out each other’s arms.
My truth has remained unspoken for too long, but I can no longer remain silent. Not after all the tales of how Achille violated me, decapitated me, visited all kinds of horrors upon me. In truth, he was at the mercy of a passion, which began with Ganymede’s cup.