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strange interest,” he continued, “but I get bored only thinking about war or sports. History never changes and I never get better at sports. Flowers are different though. They’re pure and fragile, like life I guess.”
     
    Was this guy a second suitor? I was pretty sure Father’s servant had only said one suitor was here, but what else could this guy be? He was well-educated, well-rounded and obviously a pretty good catch. Would it be selfish to want him for myself? Maybe letting Chara have him would be a better peace offering.
     
    “Sorry, I have a tendency to ramble. Probably spending too much time studying philosophy. That’s the rage in Athens and all. I’m Rasmus by the way. Rasmus of Mycenae.” He extended his hand and I offered mine.
     
    He was a suitor then — had to be. Silence hung between us as my brain tied to work through my options. What could I possibly say that would interest him? How would I appeal to him with more than looks?And did I want to appeal to him or should I let Chara have him?Then I realized, I hadn’t even introduced myself. And I was still holding his hand!
     
    I dropped his hand too quickly to be subtle. “Oh, I should have introduc… I mean… I’m Psyche.” I mentally kicked myself for not being able to spit out a coherent sentence. Then I added, “I’m sorry you were out here all alone. It was rude of us not to be more hospitable.”
     
    “That’s all right. I’ve been enjoying myself.” His tone told me he meant it. Some other nobles would’ve been put off by not being doted on, but he wasn’t. If I was being truly selfless, I knew that Chara deserved this man. Still, my mind wasn’t quite made up.
     
    After looking over my shoulder to ensure my family hadn’t decided to chase me down, I turned my attention back on Rasmus. “I can show you around the gardens if you like. There’s an area a little ways off that I’ve always loved. Perhaps you’ll see some more new flowers before the sun fully sets.”
     
    “I’d like that,” Rasmus said. “But I’m not sure the flowers will be the loveliest things in the garden.”
     
    Wow. Maybe they teach the art of giving compliments in Athens too. I could really get to like this guy.
     
    I led Rasmus down a limestone pathway and under a canopy of olive trees. As we walked, Rasmus told me about his family. He had two younger sisters, but his mother had died several years ago. When he wasn’t studying in Athens, he helped his father by traveling for him so the old king wouldn’t have to leave home.  
     
    As he talked, I felt how relaxed and at ease he seemed with me. As my fame had grown these past few months, only my family seemed comfortable in my presence anymore. What was even more of a gift though was that we were having a conversation. Rasmus was talking with me like an old friend. And it wasn’t about eye paste or the latest silks. I hadn’t realized how much I needed this.  
     
    We reached the end of the path and stood before a tall iron gate, flanked on either side by hedges higher than our heads. “I don’t know about you,” I said, “but the Trojan War has always fascinated me. Who knows,” I added, shrugging my shoulders, “maybe I’ve just glamorized it because of this place.”
     
    Rasmus’s eyebrows knit together. “I’m not sure how you can glamorize war.”
     
    I tipped my head toward the gardens and pushed open the gate, inviting him into the small courtyard. The floor was tiled in a colorful mosaic picturing a battle scene. In the center of the courtyard was a fountain sculpted in the likeness of the Trojan horse. Elaborate stone benches sat around the fountain, carved with images of our heroes: Achilles and Agamemnon, Ajax and Odysseus.  
     
    “This is my family’s tribute to the battle of Troy. My great grandfather traveled with King Menelaus to win Helen back from Paris.”
     
    “It’s … impressive.” Rasmus drifted, as if pulled by the nectarine-hued flowers