Perfume Oil: To The Fairest

  Paris held the gilded apple, trying his best to focus on its shine and occasionally pondered if the fruit was edible and fresh. Surely a goddess would- his thoughts were sharply interrupted by a firm word from the divine being in front of him. He nervously looked up at Hera, such a beautifully regal being, and was brought swiftly back to his unfortunate task. It had been her husband who had charged him with this terrible, and perhaps impossible choice. The three goddesses were being kind, sometimes too kind, but had been growing impatient. Athena, who had first promised him a superior sense of battle as king, had now promised outright victories in war. That was a very tempting proposition, and would surely secure his future throne and many more lands. Hera, however, claimed she would make Paris the absolute king over all men far beyond Troy alone, in a lavish, vast kingdom. At thoughts of this, his head was in a fog, which is when he tried focusing on the apple. Then, impeccably beautiful Aphrodite spoke again, her voice soft as a caress, loud enough for only Paris to hear. "When you grant me Fairest, the one mortal woman whose beauty is nearest to mine shall be enamoured by you and you alone." She paused, suddenly having his full attention. "Yes, your willing and loving wife shall be Helene."