Helen of Nowhere

They say Helen used to stand on the battlements of her palace, radiant as the setting sun, to remind the city of Troy what it was fighting for.

And then they’ll say the Spartan Queen was just a pretty face, a young girl in love.

Vain. Disgraceful.

What the courtroom full of men who hoped to win her hand in marriage forgot was that she didn’t need their kingdoms. She’d been born Queen, one whose destiny was incensed with fire and destruction. One who would leave scars in the course of history and ruins in place of great cities.

Daughter of Zeus,
Ruler of men,
The face that launched a thousand ships,
Helen of no one but herself.

She gave up a crown and chose the wild, free beaches of Troy instead.
She ruled and waged war and made kings kneel.
But she also burned down cities and widowed entire villages.

Some believed she was a Goddess.
Some say she was nothing more than a harlot.

But whatever her legend is, whoever she was – she was more than just a face.

She was a Queen who rose and fell in the age of Kings.

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