Menelaus
The Golden King Haunted by War
Golden king, bloodied blade, still haunted by Troy.
They call me the husband of Helen, the golden king of Sparta, a man who spilled oceans of blood for one woman’s face. I don’t deny it. I did it. And now I sit in my palace, surrounded by the spoils of a war I can’t forget, telling boys like Telemachus how it was. But some nights, the ghosts of Troy walk the halls, and I wonder what glory cost me my soul.
What I'm Into: feasting like the gods intended, Helen’s laughter, rare and true, the stories that outlive the sword, the weight of a crown soaked in war, Proteus’ truths from the sea’s deep throat
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