Dawn Treader Valley Να πνίξεις όλα όσα οι άλλοι λεν μες τη σιωπή

All at once Andromache understood the true danger she faced. It was not the Roman's anger but his warmth, his honeyed words and promises of a new beginning. For a moment she almost believed him. For a moment she almost trusted him.

But how could she? Even her own father had not loved her enough to call her an equal. Andromache stood above common men; a princess, a demigod, the apple of her father's eye and favored by the Fates. Were she a man, she would have been more.

Then we'd best make it something worthwhile, Andromache murmured, smiling, closing off; the moment had passed and they were again on opposite sides of some vast unnameable chasm. She withdrew her paw, determined that she would not think of the way his smile lit all his features to brilliance or the pleasant, practiced roll of Greek on his tongue. We should ask Nikolaos and Euryalos to secure the valley. We'll need to assess our resources and establish trade, but if any passing barbarian can simply take it for themselves, it won't mean much.