“Penelope-”
“Convincing me to not love you is a Sisyphean task, you fool.” There was a fire in her eyes, one that had anchored him many times over their lives together. “Did I not vow tosupportyou, toloveyou, tostand by your sidethrough every trial?”
Odysseus recoiled slightly as she recited her marriage vows to him. “Face your people, king. Say what you need to say, but you will say it by my side.”
He stood, the blood from his actions still covering his tunic, his hands, but he stood. Penelope pivoted to stand next to him, weaving her hand through his arm. “Together, my king,” she breathed, “Or not at all.”
She was a catalyst, bolstering him with every breath. “People of Ithaca, guests, esteemed friends…” Instantly, he felt Odysseus the King take over his fear, his anxieties. With his wife at his side, he could be unstoppable. “There was an attack on your queen last night.”
Gasps rippled throughout the room.
“The threat was neutralized, and will not harm another.” He nodded towards the scene he had created in the middle of the room. “But let it be known, let itstand, that in Ithaca, outside of Ithaca, in the home of the gods themselves… No harm will come to my wife, no harm will come to my son.”
There was another wave across the courtyard, this one of approval, agreement. The people of Ithaca always stood behind their king. “Be it Zeus, be it Sparta, be it my father’s hands. I will keep her safe above all else.”
He heard his wife inhale sharply next to him, her grip on his hand tightening.
“My son,” he continued, eyes finding Telemachus in the crowd. “Know that there is no one I trust as much as you, especially when it comes to your mother.” The men exchanged a nod, an agreement.
“There is nothing to forgive, Father.” Was Telemachus’ response, causing both king and queen to smile.
“Enjoy your day, son. You have earned every moment of revelry.” Odysseus bowed to the king, Penelope following suit. “I am remiss to say my wife and I must retire.” He clasped their son’s arm, dropping his voice. “We have much to discuss. Find us after your celebration has ended, son. Your mother and I will be waiting.”
The two left this festival in a manner much different from the first. Arm in arm, heads held high. His blood boiled beneath his skin, too many things stirred inside of him.
But the strongest was pride. Pride in his wife, at the way she stood strong in the face ofeverythinghe threw at her. Pride in the way she met him step for step, and the way she would never allow him to slip, never allow him to wallow.
The gods knew -
No.
Not the gods.
Odysseusknew exactly the partner he needed to stand by his side.
58
THE DOOR SHUT BEHIND THEM, the wood groaning under the pressure. Odysseus dropped her hand, watching as she took several steps into the room before pausing, before turning.
Penelope watched him carefully, as one would watch a wounded animal. “What, king?” Her voice was a whisper in the air around them. “Lost your voice?” The upturn of her lips about did him in.
“Penelope.” He stepped forward, reaching for her. He needed to feel her, to have her underneath him, to worship her. She was a goddess, and he would willingly fall to his knees for her every day. “My love,” he croaked as she stepped out of his grasp, mischief in her eyes.
“Come, wretched king,” she beckoned him forward with a single finger. “You cannot take me to bed covered in blood.” She turned away from him, but not before glancing over her shoulder. “No matter how much the sight of your skin, decorated with the blood of our enemies, fills my veins with desire.”
Heat traveled down his spine, settling in his core. Mindlessly, as if in a trance, he followed her. She could have led him off the edge of the world, and he would follow her.
Their bathing chamber was already warm, steam swirling around the private tub. He fumbled at the ties around his waist, fingers unable to clasp, to pull. “I’ll clean up.” He muttered, wholly unable to function.
“No, you won’t,” Penelope stepped closer, twisting the fabric pieces of his tunic around her fingers. “You can hardly speak, king.” She untied his clothing, pushing it off of him in a single motion. His mouth was dry, his head spinning. “In you go,” she tutted, rolling her eyes as she turned from him.
His heart sank as she walked away, ducking out of their bath. Still moving in slow motion, he sat on the edge of the pool, resting his hands on his knees. The warm water was a welcoming touch, but all he felt was his wife’s absence.
Odysseus knew she would wait for him, that he should make his way into the water and clean the gore off.
Everything seemed harder without her by his side, especially now. His eyes drifted shut, thoughts drifted to his wife.
Behind closed eyes, however, he was not greeted with the image of the woman he had built his life around.
