In the end she was always pretty. The subtle wave in her brown locks, her eyes the color of autumn leaves dancing in the wind. She was goddess of the night. Aphrodite’s ill-fated jewel for Nyx would weep in sorrow if she took her place among the night sky. Her enchantment would cast spells that Morgan herself would wallow in despise for she was a far greater enchantress. If Paris knew of her beauty Ilium would never burn.
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