It was time to steal Briseis, and I knew this task demanded utmost precision. Even with the borrowed power of Thetis coursing through me, failure wasn't an option. The stakes were too high, and the consequences too dire if I made a mistake.
So, I resorted to what I had become adept at: watching and waiting. Patience was my weapon, and reconnaissance my shield. I had already spent time studying the Greek camp, mapping out its layout and routines. Agamemnon's tent was particularly well-guarded, a testament to his lingering paranoia after my previous uninvited visit. The increased security was almost laughable—clearly, I had left a lasting impression.
