And everyone has for certain that this war was rather caused by the internal disputes between Perseids and Pelopides in Mycenae and Sparta, than by the defection of the Spartan queen. I am now a slave, some would say, and should not be talking as a queen. Yet royal blood still flows in my veins, and always will, and that is why even King Agamemnon treats me with deference, surrounding me with all kinds of comforts and privileges in his camp, and now granting a safe-conduct for the messenger bringing this letter to you. For he knows in his wisdom that now that he is the victor, his name has everything to win by exercising clemency. For he gets in return the experienced counsel of an old queen who, having nothing to lose, is closer than ever to the gods, who do not fail to inspire her and guide her day by day.
Defeat can be bitter, dear friend.
But only for those with short understanding, as those Trojan women who roam around in the camp as shadows in Hades, groaning and lamenting their fate. Even Polyxena, before dying, hoped that I would hide a dagger in my clothes and stab Odysseus to death, when he came to fetch her to be executed. Sidonian robes, that make a queen, but the confidence that her soul will endure adversity without even the semblance of a change in her royal posture. That is the sign of true nobility, which honours serenity, peace and reconciliation, even when everything around falls apart. For the chief battlefield, and this we know since childhood, is not where the too short-sighted warriors who do not listen to their wives believe it to be, but inside the heart of mortal men.