AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Okay. This isn’t going to work if I’m going to get pathetic at every single instance. Better to shove all my feelings aside and focus on the present as if we’re indeed strangers.
My heartbreak can wait, but I won’t ever get a chance like this again, so I will make the most of it and try not to judge myself too much afterward.
“Thank you for the compliment, but Helen of Troy’s beauty was a curse to her.”
His brow rises at this, and I follow him when he pulls me to the side, toward the bar. “Is that so?”
“Yes. She wouldn’t have all these men fighting for her attention if it wasn’t for her beauty. No one knows much about her except that she was beautiful and a cheater.”
Once again, kudos to my parents for thinking that naming me after that particular character was a great idea.
Florian drags me into a dark corner, leaning on the bartop and motioning for the bartender to come closer. He reaches us in two short strides, and surprise flashes across his face when he glances at me, but he says nothing. “Ben, could you bring me whiskey and a virgin cocktail for the lady?”
“Sure, boss.” Ben shifts his focus to me. “Any preferences?”
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to react to this because how does he know I can’t legally drink alcohol? My cover will blow quickly this way, so I say. “I’d actually like something with alcohol in it.”
Ben blinks and looks at Florian, who just shakes his head, so the bartender nods. “Okay. I’ll make the best one.” He dashes away while annoyance zips through me because, what the hell was that?
It almost felt like he needed Florian’s permission and didn’t care about my opinion on the matter.
Whatever.
I’ll have to find a way to pretend to drink that freaking cocktail without vomiting. I can’t hold alcohol for shit.
“It’s interesting how beauty changes perspective, isn’t it?” I frown, and it takes me a second to remember our earlier conversation. “Because Helen was so beautiful and wanted by all these men she was painted as evil and rather airheaded.” He drums his fingers on the counter. “People can forgive a lot of things. Beauty is not one of them.”
Oh.
This is bad.
One of the things I love the most about Florian and the dark four in general?
It’s their brains and how they think. They have different perspectives on many things, and engaging in conversations with them is an art form in itself.
Even though continuing this subject puts me on a rather shaky ground as he already knows my opinion on the matter, my curious mind cannot resist the challenge. “That’s not true. I think people are exceptionally forgiving of beauty. There is a certain privilege in having it.”
He catches the glass Ben slides his way, and then shakes it a little bit, causing the ice to clank against each other. “No, they crave it, but they also judge it. When you have beauty, according to some people, you have no right to complain because your life is much easier with it.”
“Well…it’s true to some extent. Society loves to feed on our vulnerabilities, and if you’re less than perfect…it gives someone the green light to hurt you. Verbally or physically.”
He takes a large sip from his glass. “Yes. But beauty is a vulnerability too. We just fail to see it.” A beat passes. “And the most interesting part about it? You can lose it at any time. That’s tragic and fascinating at the same time.”
I hop on the barstool, wiggling my toes in my high heels, and ponder his words, not even thinking about my response. “You think Helen’s story proves this theory of yours?”
He puts the glass back on the bartop and leans his elbow on it, amusement flashing in his eyes as he studies me. “Of course. Her beauty wasn’t her greatest asset. It was her vulnerability, and men exploited it.”
We’d never know if these characters existed and how much truth was actually in all these poems, myths, and legends. However, we can at least have a discussion about the information we do have.
“Because they wanted to own her.”
He clicks his tongue. “No. They wanted to have what owning her represented. It was about power and ego.” He traces his finger over the rim of his glass. “If we go by the theory that Helen and Paris loved each other…arguably, Paris was the only one who wanted her for love and nothing else.”
“Their love caused a war and destroyed a whole country.” Somehow, saying these words feels wrong, though, and a familiar stabbing pain aches in my heart, making me gulp for breath.
If Florian loved me, it would have caused a war between our families as well, and I wouldn’t have cared.
For once, I would have been selfish. To hell with the consequences.
