"Must be quite convenient... to have gods on your side," he sneered, his voice dripping with venom.

    Without waiting for a response, he spun on his heel and stormed off, his rage barely contained.

    Nathan, however, remained utterly indifferent, as though Paris had never spoken at all. Whether he had truly acknowledged Paris''s presence or simply deemed him irrelevant was a question left unanswered.

    Priam released a weary sigh, his gaze following the figure of his son as Paris stormed away in silent fury.

    "Forgive him for his behavior," the Trojan king murmured, shaking his head. "Paris has always been... headstrong."

    Nathan merely nodded, his expression unreadable. In truth, he couldn''t have cared less about Paris''s tantrum. A year ago, perhaps, he might have retaliated with pettiness, just as he had with Jason and the others. But he had changed since then. He had learned, he had grown. Such trivial grievances no longer mattered to him.

    A lighthearted chuckle suddenly broke the lingering tension. "Kassandra, my dear, don''t you think you''ve embraced him long enough?" Queen Hecuba teased, her warm gaze settling upon her daughter.

    Kassandra flinched as if struck, immediately stepping back with an embarrassed flush coloring her cheeks. It was unbecoming of a princess to act so freely, yet neither Priam nor Hecuba seemed to mind. On the contrary, they both bore gentle, knowing smiles. Their daughter, once burdened by sorrow and plagued by her cursed visions, now stood before them with renewed light in her eyes—a light that hinted at something deeper.

    Affection? Love?

    Hecuba wondered, but she did not voice her thoughts.

    "We are delighted to see you alive once more, Heiron," Priam spoke again, his tone laced with genuine relief. Then, with an amused chuckle, he added, "Or should I call you Lord Commander? Perhaps Nathan or Samael?"

    Nathan allowed a ghost of a smile to cross his lips before it faded just as quickly. "No, you may continue to call me Heiron," he answered. "I revealed my real names to you because I find it exhausting to continue lying. However, I would prefer if my true identity did not reach other ears."

    Though his words carried a note of caution, his voice was so cold, so eerily composed, that it seemed as if he did not truly care whether the gods uncovered his identity or not. There was an unsettling indifference in his tone, a quiet defiance that sent a shiver through those who listened.

    Priam studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Then we shall honor your wishes and continue calling you Heiron."

    But despite the relief of his return, one question lingered in the king''s mind, a question that troubled him deeply.

    "But... are you still willing to fight for us?" he asked, his voice betraying his uncertainty. "You gave your life for the Trojans once. Are you truly prepared to risk it again?"

    "We all wish for that outcome," Priam admitted with a weary sigh, the weight of years and war pressing heavily upon his shoulders. His once-proud frame seemed burdened by exhaustion, his voice carrying the quiet fatigue of a man who had witnessed too much suffering. He studied Nathan for a moment, his gaze lingering on the young warrior''s expression—distant, unreadable, as if his mind were elsewhere. Something about him felt different, though Priam could not quite place what it was.

    With growing concern, he asked, "Heiron, do you have something prepared to eat? You should regain your strength before concerning yourself with anything else."

    Nathan turned his gaze toward the Trojan King and offered a small nod. "If you could have it sent directly to my room, that would be best." His voice was steady but detached, as though the physical world held little significance to him at the moment.

    Priam nodded in understanding. There was something strange about the young man before him—he seemed almost ethereal, like a figure that had walked the line between life and death and returned changed. Yet, whatever had happened, he owed him too much to pry. Instead, he simply bowed his head slightly in gratitude.

    "Once again, Heiron, I must thank you for saving my son," Priam said solemnly. "He is the future of Troy. Without him, our people would have lost all hope."

    Nathan gave him a slight nod in acknowledgment, then turned without another word, making his way toward the exit.

    Aeneas, who had been standing near Hector, took a final glance at the wounded prince before quickly following after Nathan. His footsteps were light but eager, his curiosity evident in the way he studied the man beside him.

    "How are you feeling?" Aeneas finally asked as they walked.

    Nathan''s fingers curled into a fist, flexing instinctively. A surge of raw energy coursed through him—his body no longer felt broken, no longer weak or hindered by past wounds. Instead, he felt renewed, almost as if he had been reborn into something stronger, something more powerful than ever before.

    "Good," Nathan replied, his grip tightening briefly as he tested the strength within him. His muscles felt denser, his body more responsive. Every movement carried an effortless precision, a stark contrast to the pain and exhaustion he had once endured.

    Aeneas chuckled, though there was a hint of unease behind his laughter. "Man, you look different," he admitted, shaking his head in mild disbelief. "Just looking at you gives me chills."

    Nathan glanced at him, a faint smile playing at the edges of his lips. "You''ve changed a lot too. You seem much stronger than before."

    Aeneas exhaled sharply, crossing his arms as his expression turned more serious. "I had to," he admitted. His gaze darkened, memories flashing through his mind. "After you... died, everything changed. Hector, Atalanta, Penthesilea, Helen''s brothers—we did what we could. We held the line, somehow. But it was difficult." His fingers curled into fists, as if recalling battles fought in desperation, moments when they had been on the brink of collapse.

    Nathan reached the door to his chambers and stepped inside. Before closing it, he turned back to Aeneas, his gaze steady and filled with quiet certainty. Find your next adventure on My Virtual Library Empire

    "Don''t worry," he said, his voice carrying an unmistakable sense of finality. "I''m here now."

    Then, without another word, he shut the door behind him.@@@@