“Knew that I would always wonder what my life would have been like if I hadn’t run away with the mad Ithacan King.” She finished, her voice not nearly as strong as she had wanted.
“Ah,” Laertes said again, nodding his head. “It’s love then, is it?” He asked, turning now to look at his son. “You married a woman for love?” There was something in his voice, something that almost could have been disappointment. Penelope’s heart was lodged in her throat as she watched, waited.
“Yes, father. I did. I knew the minute I laid eyes on her. My life would have known only agony if I had left Sparta without her.”
“Gods, son, you stole a Spartan princess?”
“Father… didn’t we just clarify that she was a willing participant? Stole is a harsh word… I think ‘broke out’ is a better term for what we did.” The light in his eyes continued to dance, never leaving her.
“Good,” his father said eventually, turning his back on the pair of them. “Come inside, foolish king. I’m sure Eurycleia will want to fatten you up before you take your leave.”
“Good, father? That’s all you have to say?” Odysseus finally looked away from Penelope and to his father as he walked away from both of them. “What do I do with ‘good’?”
“No king gets to choose their bride. No king gets to run off in the night with a woman they have recklessly called their own.” Laertes said, over his shoulder. “Fewer kings get to do so with a woman that chooses them back. You’re a lucky man, King of Ithaca.”
Odysseus looked to his wife, a foolhardy grin strung across his lips. He stepped closer to her, running his hands down her arms. “That went well.” He said, dropping his lips to meet hers, if only briefly.
42
THE KING AND QUEEN the remainder of the morning reminded of the wild love they had shared so long ago, of the connection they had been working to rebuild.
Eventually, Penelope had to force herself to pull away from the safety of his embrace. Odysseus grumbled as she left the bed, playfully begging her to stay with him, by his side.
“You could come with me,” she answered as she tied her hair up on top of her head. She shouldn’t have said anything. He was up in an instant, fastening a fresh tunic around him, grinning ear to ear.
“What is on our agenda today, wife?” His eyes sparkled, his entire face was alight with mischief.
“I have to go down to the docks, speak with our fishermen about shipments, catches. Now that the suitors have been… relocated,” she didn’t miss the way he stifled a laugh, “we won’t be needing to bring in as much.”
She rose, meeting his grin with a soft smile in return. “Come, king, it will do your people good to see their leader.” She looped her arm through his, tugging him out of their chambers.
Odysseus quietly hummed a tune as they traveled through the halls of the palace, stealing a look at his queen every so often.The pair was about to turn into the main hall when he yanked her backwards into a small storage room.
She didn’t even have time to scold him. His lips were on hers so fervently. His hands were on her,everywhere. Penelope gasped against his mouth, fingers clenching into his tunic.
He took several steps forward, pressing her back against one of the few bare walls in the room. One of his hands went to her hair, the other to her thigh, hitching her leg up around his waist.
She should have been angry, should have tried harder to fight him. This was irreproachable, certainly not the way a queen should act.
Definitelynot a queen of her age, to be sure.
But with his hands on her, the way hestillmanaged to grin as he kissed her, she was lost to him. Her hands snaked up the planes of his chest, tangling in his hair.
Once his mouth finally left hers, pressing kisses to the curve of her neck, her senses came back to her. “Odysseus,” she whispered, trying to make her voice sound harsh, “We have to-” she bit back a moan, his hand drifting lower, achingly slow, stopping her thoughts completely.
She could feel him grinning against her skin, feeling the faint rush of air as he chuckled gently. Penelope shut her eyes, centering herself, before swatting him on the arm. “You are incorrigible.” She scolded him halfheartedly, stomach fluttering as she took in his lopsided grin.
“Ever yours.” He gave her a mock bow, pulling away from her. She narrowed her eyes at him, sidestepping and pushing the door open.
Odysseus didn’t follow her, not immediately.
Penelope was just outside the palace walls when she recognized his footfalls behind her. He caught up quickly, offering his arm to her once again.
“Sorry, highness.” He muttered, leaning close. His lips were close to her ear. “Unfinished business.” He practically growled, just low enough for her to hear.
The flush that spread to her face was instant. “Odysseus,” she hissed, jabbing her elbow into his ribs.
He groaned, just barely losing his footing. He righted himself quickly, a brazen smile plastered across his face. “You wound me, queen.” He feigned, holding the spot where her elbow had connected.
