If this were Roman soil, with the blessing of the land behind him, Night might have tried anyway.
But unfortunately, this was not Roman soil.
Whatever he attempted here, he would be attempting it at half his strength, in enemy territory, against impossible odds.
He had no answer to give her. Not yet.
Then footsteps sounded in the corridor outside, and a voice he recognized broke through the quiet.
"Praise the gods," Hector said, stepping through the doorway with relief written plainly across his face. "My brother. You are finally awake."
He stopped, looking at Chryseis, who was still on the floor, or just rising from it, he read the room in an instant.
He stood with one foot inside the doorway and one foot still in the corridor, caught between retreating and entering, wearing the expression of a man who had arrived at exactly the wrong moment and was not sure what the right thing to do with himself was.
Chryseis, on the other hand, rose very gracefully and bowed elegantly.
"Your highness Hector."
"The Hero has just awakened.
There must be much you wish to say to him. I will leave the two of you."
As she spoke, she moved toward the door.
Hector stepped aside to let her pass, then stopped her. "How many times have I told you. Not your Highness. Call me brother, as Paris does."
He looked at her more carefully.
"I came at a bad time. Chryseis. Is this about Briseis?"
Upon hearing her sister's name, Chryseis' expression immediately darkened, revealing a palpable sense of desolation.
Hector clenched his fists and said in a deep voice, "Please give me some time, Chryseis. Briseis is my sister too. I am not going to abandon her."
The latter nodded slightly and expressed her heartfelt gratitude to her brother.
They were cousins by blood, not siblings, but in a world where women were moved between men like property on a ledger, a man who actually meant what he said was not something to take for granted.
Even family did not always extend that kind of care. Paris, for one, didn't even come to see Chryseis once in all the time Night had been unconscious.
After comforting his sister, Hector looked at Night, overjoyed to see him there again…
This way, he wouldn't lose another brother!
He crossed the room and pulled Night into a tight embrace before either of them said anything.
He had already lost many of his people in this war and was unwilling to lose another brother who had shared life and death with him.
"This is a miracle," Hector said quietly. "The gods must be watching over you. I have thought about that day in Thebes more than once."
"You should know. The people you helped us bring back, the fighting strength from the surrounding city-states, the Amazons, Penthesilea agreeing to stand with us. None of that happens without you. Troy is standing where it is right now because of what you did."
"The king is holding a feast tonight to celebrate. Come with me. Let me introduce you to my brothers and sisters."
Night looked at him.
He felt something he did not entirely expect.
After all, it was Hector, who had given him everything at the start, shelter, trust, a place to stand when he had nothing.
It could be said that without Hector's early support, he wouldn't be where he was today.
Everyone had different initial intentions in the Trojan War.
Achilles came for glory, to burn so brightly that his name would outlast his short life.
Agamemnon came for power, for trade routes and tribute and dominion. Paris came for the woman he wanted and the pride of keeping her.
Hector came for one thing and never changed it. To protect the people inside those walls. His family. His city. That was all he ever fought for.
This man owed no one anything, yet he was drawn into a brutal battle and ultimately met a tragic end.
He did not know yet if he could change how this war ended. The gods had too much invested in the outcome for that to be simple. But at the very least, he wanted to protect Hector in this war.
"Then what are we waiting for,"
Night gladly accepted Hector's invitation, cherishing this rare moment of peace.
At this moment, his body was already unharmed.
Whatever the weakness debuff was still doing to him at the edges, the center of him was solid, strength enough to put any Trojan soldier to shame and then some.
He had already come to regard Hector as a brother.
After confirming that Night was indeed completely healed, Hector gave him a tight hug, marveling at it as a miracle.
Then he smiled at the young man, and said. "One more thing. I believe I made you a promise. That if we both came back alive, I would introduce you to my sister."
He glanced toward the doorway where Chryseis had gone.
"What do you think of her?"
Chryseis, who had not quite left yet, went very still.
Then color climbed her neck and settled in her cheeks, and she looked at absolutely nothing in particular with tremendous focus.
Night watched the pale that grief had put into her face, give way to something warmer.
He looked at the line of her throat, the curve of her ear gone entirely red.
In the stories of ancient Greece, the troops like Hero saving beauty, and the beauty falling in love with them were not something uncommon.
In fact, it happened often enough that it was practically a tradition.
And connecting to the feeling from their previous exchanges, Chryseis seemed not to reject him at all… there's a chance——!
"Chryseis is beautiful," Night said.
"If the war were already over, I think I would find it difficult not to pursue her."
But he had just remained silent toward someone else's plea for help, completely ignoring it…
Night had no intention of shamelessly continuing to flirt with the other person, especially since getting too close to a beautiful woman in ancient Greece was its own kind of hazard.
One wrong step and you found yourself tangled in a crisis that could bring an actual god down from Olympus.
Not to mention, Apollo was famously fond of his priestesses.
Just thinking about what kind of face that sun god would make if someone walked off with Chryseis right under his nose.
Night decided he would rather not find out.
Chryseis, for her part, was struggling somewhat with the fact that the hero she admired had just said something like that about her.
She cleared her throat lightly.
"I should return to the temple."
Her composure had come back, though her cheeks still held some color. "I will not be joining the feast tonight."
However, Hector looked at Nigh and said. "Actually, why not come with us to the temple first?"
"You should pay your respects to Lord Apollo."
After everything that had happened at Thebes, the blessing Night carried was not exactly a secret among those who had been there.
Worshiping Apollo?!
Night thought about it for less than a second and noddedd.
Apollo sent him something that saved his life.
Stopping by the man's temple was the least he could do, even if he had never planned on becoming the devout type.
"Then allow me to lead the way," Chryseis said.
A small smile had found its way back onto her face, the first one he had seen since the conversation about her sister.
"Lord Apollo will be very pleased to receive you."
After all, that god had taken quite an interest in the hero.
.
.
.
Then, led by Chryseis, the candidate priestess, the group soon arrived at the newly built temple.
Due to the ongoing war, the new temple was deserted with no worshippers, except for the three of them.
"Wait here a moment," Chryseis said, and walked to the statue of Apollo.
She knelt, pressed her hands together, and began to pray in a low steady voice, words Night did not recognize, formal and precise in a way that suggested years of careful training.
The kind of thing priestesses learned and ordinary people did not.