“You’re staring,” she murmured with a yawn, snuggling closer to him.
“Where else am I supposed to look when I have a goddess asleep in my bed? Her head on my chest, her legs tangled in sheets?” He mused, drawing lazy circles on her arm.
“What sort of king lounges around in bed all day with strange women he just met?” She asked, propping herself up on her hand. She turned, meeting his gaze with a wicked grin.
“The kind that fell in love at first sight, Princess.” He responded softly, running a finger down the bridge of her nose, memorizing every plane, every line on her body.
The flush that spread across her cheeks was divine, Odysseus thanked the gods for allowing their paths to cross, for allowing fate to fall in line like this - for her.
“I have a proposition for you, Princess,” he said with a smirk, curling a piece of her hair around his finger. She was mesmerizing. He couldn’t keep his hands off of her. Her hair, her skin, her lips. He was constructed for her, for this very moment in time.
“And what is that, King?”
“Marry me.” It wasn’t a question, it was never a question. This woman was the only person on this planet that was meant for him. He would never find another soul so perfectly aligned to his own.
“Point me in the right direction and I’ll start preparations today.” She responded immediately, not a moment of hesitation.
“No,” he said, twisting his hand in her hair. “No preparations. No party. No grand events. Just you. Just me.”
“How do you propose that?” She was smiling, a grin stretching from ear to ear. Gods, he would capture the sun if that’s what she asked of him.
“Tonight. We’ll steal away-”
“You’re not going to keep me a secret now, are you, highness?” She interrupted him, eyes sparkling.
“Hush, woman,” Odysseus laughed, lightly placing a finger over her lips. “I know a place we can go.” He sunk down into the mattress, face to face. “A place no one goes. No one will follow.”
Her fingers grazed the stubble of his beard. “I have one condition, King.” She whispered, lips just barely grazing his as she drew nearer to him.
“Anything for you, my queen.” He tilted his head, and she backed up, denying his kiss, his touch. Odysseus narrowed his eyes in mock indigence, growling low in his throat.
“This is it, Odysseus,” she whispered, eyes locked on his, fingers curling around his jaw. “I can’t… I can’t be one of those wives, those queens who turn the other way when their husband takes another.”
“Penelope,” he breathed, his voice low. Grasping her by the shoulders, he pivoted them, hovering over her. She gasped, clutching onto his forearms.
“Promise me, darling.” She murmured, running her hands up his arms to clasp the back of his neck. His heart hammered in his chest as he lowered himself to his elbows.
He pressed his lips to her neck, her jaw, her cheek. “I swear on everything I am, Penelope. There will never be another. My soul sings a song for yours alone.”
He felt her grip relax, the tension in her muscles washing away with his promise. His lips found hers. “If you were the sun, my heart, I would gladly risk melting just to bask in your warmth.” His words were barely a whisper, lips brushing as he uttered the promise into the room around them.
She sighed against his lips, and for a moment, the world outside their bed did not exist. He could stay like this, wrapped in her warmth, suspended in the quiet space where only they existed.
But the day called for him. His absence could not stretch forever, no matter how much he ached to ignore the world outside their door.
Reluctantly, he had pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before slipping from their bed, leaving Eurycleia to tend to her. He trusted no one more and had full confidence that the nursemaid would supply his betrothed’s needs while staying inconspicuous.
The day had been a test of his patience, stretching on like a cruel trial set by the gods. He had gone through the motions… spoken where he was expected to, nodded where required. But his mind had not left her for a single breath.
And now, at last, the sun had fallen.
Odysseus stood at the door, hands restless at his sides, heart hammering like a boy seeing his first battle. But this was not war. This was something far more dangerous. Far more precious.
The door creaked open. And there she was.
Penelope had her back to the door, pinning hair back into her twisted plaits. His heart stopped as she turned to meet his eyes.
A golden crown of leaves stood out against her wine dark hair. “Odysseus,” she breathed life into the silence that surrounded them. “You’re staring.”
