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Oh please, son of Peleus, why are you pretending to care? We never were really close to each other. Even despite this … little arrangement of ours. That you only accepted to please Patroclus – no, don’t even try to deny it! I was but a servant girl to you, a slave. To whom you only spoke from time to time, almost by politeness and obligation to your so-called future wife. Do you remember when you probably felt the strongest about me in all these years I shared your tent? When they took me away. Well, I wouldn’t say about “me”, Briseis, more like the war prize that I was, the object the other Acheans envied you for. I heard you walking in circles in your tent that day, fuming over this affront to your damned honour. You kept referring to me as your reward, your prize, you barely mentioned my name! By the Gods, you didn’t even take on their offer to get me back when their comrades, YOUR comrades, were dying on the battlefield! I could have been some pretty vase. I didn’t matter. You were already too mad with your hubris, too obsessed with some glorious destiny to care about what they could do to me. You weren’t worried about poor Briseis. You were only worried about your image, about a King you loathed taking something, anything, from you. People aren’t people to you. They’re all spectators, tools or obstacles. Well, all except for Patroclus.
Patroclus. You never deserved him, Peleides. He was the Best of Acheans. Not you, not anyone else in that cursed army of yours. Maybe he was a murderer too, like any other soldier, but he valued life more than the likes of you ever did. He was a wise and honest man in a world led by prideful childish Princes and Kings such as yourself. When he died because of you, I could have killed you. I swear I could have, were you not some grieving fury that would have slain me without remorse at the mere attempt. So no, Achilles. I have no intention of getting on better terms with you. I can listen to your apologies but I have no care for them. You hurt me too many times over the years. You took away my husband, my brothers, my people, my only friend, my freedom … that cannot be erased, no matter how you praised yourself for your mercy and kindness towards your royal slave. You might have never beat me or forced yourself upon me, despite the hunger in your eyes after some glasses of wine. I am well aware you wouldn't have missed your chance, had I seemed interested. Or perhaps of lower birth. You did not seem to hesitate with common girls crossing your path. Agamemnon … he wasn’t so kind. But it’s not like you cared about what he might do to me, did you? In any case, your attitude towards me didn’t change my servitude, and it didn’t change that you kept me and my countrywomen prisoners. I may not have any godly blood within me like you do, but I was the daughter of a renowned priest, and the spouse of a respected King, isn't that why you accepted me as your potential bride ? Well, see where I ended because of your kind.
And yet, I wonder what kind of life we could have had, had you not lost all your senses. There was no home left for me anyway. I did look forward to leaving this bloody and destroyed land, to leaving all these years as a slave behind. Phtia could have been my new home. I would have been Queen again. We would have never been a real couple, Patroclus would always be there, you were quite clear on that, but I certainly wouldn’t have complained. Your hands killed my loved ones. Your presence would have been tolerable, but these hands on me ? I doubt they would bring me any pleasure, considering the blood on them. Besides, you already had an heir, so really, some Queen at your side for appearances was all you needed. This arrangement was beneficial for the both of us. And after all … who knows. Maybe, the years dulling my resentment and anger, the two of us could have become companions. Yes, Achilles, maybe we could have become friends.
Well, all of that is in the past now, Peleides. Now go, be happy with your love, rejoice in Elysium for eternity with him, but leave me in peace. I do not wish for you to live in sorrow, not anymore at least. But do not force your presence on me. You may have changed in the afterlife. I can believe that. However, I do not owe you forgiveness. And if you truly are sorry for what you did, you should accept that. Maybe in a few months, years or decades, we will meet again and I will forgive you. Only time will tell, and we do not lack of it.
Thanks for your visit in Asphodel, son of Peleus, have a good journey back to Elysium.