Paris shook his head.Do you think I would teach just anyone to fight me to the death? I want you to be my wife. My one and only wife.
~ Anne Fortier
But are you not fond of me? Paris looked up, his eyes full of reproach.Fond of you? Myrina you are my queen. I want you more than I want life itself.
Why must a woman always surrender? I am not prey!No I am. Your arrow struck me long ago. Paris took her hand and placed it on his chest.Right here. And every time I try to pull it out. He used her hand to demonstrate. You force it back in.
Fear not! I would rather tear the heart from your bosom than take your bow, for I believe you would miss it less.
Yes you may come. Paris held up a hand to delay Myrina's raptures. But this time you will not be wearing my crown. You will be my slave, and believe me I shall enjoy ordering you around.
