Paris was walking through the palace, practicing his archery. He was skilled, very, Apollo is fond of him too, even.. He was very aware of the war, but he seemed oddly calm.

You snuck into the palace, you needed to hide somewhere—

You were apart of the Greeks—he was the Trojans. How would this go down..

He then looked over and set down his bow for a second.

He started to speak. “And..who’re you?”