Given a Chance, You Were Useless

Dim moonlight filtered through the gaps in the window lattice, casting mottled silver gleams across the room. A gentle breeze softly drew aside the gauze curtains, revealing two overlapping figures.

Helen had remained kneeling on the bed without moving for a long while. By the faint light, she quietly looked down at the king curled up before her. Her sea-blue eyes reflected his handsome features, while her hovering fingertips traced the lines of his face stroke by stroke. A satisfied smile bloomed at the corners of her lips.

Though several hours had already passed like this, the support of her divine blood and the joy in her heart kept her from feeling the slightest fatigue or boredom.

From their first meeting, when he had lent her a hand during the Calydonian Hunt, to his rallying cry during the War of the Giants, when he had held up a collapsing edifice; from his sudden appearance to save her from danger on the road, to his swift and decisive purge of the old aristocracy at Mount of the God of War...

This man had entered her life like a blazing comet in the night, like lightning flashing across the heavens. He always came and went in haste, yet she could never forget him.

But because of so many things, she was still pacing in place, destined only to look up at the epics and brilliance written across the sky.

Once dawn broke, their two briefly intersecting paths through life might pass beyond this rare point of overlap and continue toward different directions, growing farther and farther apart.

If time could stop, Helen truly wished that everything before her could linger a little longer.

After all, she had received too much from this man and given too little in return.

Even if, to