“I’m afraid I’m finding the news…difficult to celebrate,” she admitted with a smile, though her eyes remained heavy. “People seem to have forgotten that it was Patroclus’s death that drove Achilles to return to battle. The prince of the Myrmidons didn’t slay Hector as an act of glory but one of desperation. Because Hector took what mattered most to him.”
I stared up at the oak tree, watching the shadows seep into its roughened bark, distorting the ancient trunk into something nightmarish and strange.
In my mind, I turned over Penelope’s words. Achilles had always seemed more myth than man to me, an unreachable ideal, like the gods themselves. I had never thought of him as a person, as someonecapable of loss and pain.
“So you think the rumors are true then? That Achilles and Patroclus were lovers?”
Penelope considered the question. “From what people say, they clearly loved each other. Though I don’t presume to know in what capacity.”
My eyes drifted back to hers, drawn by that invisible tide.
“Love can come in many forms.”
We stared at each other for a moment, that familiar, unspoken thing shifting in the darkness between us. That thing I had felt growing inside me for the past nine summers, intensifying with every passing season, driving me slowly insane with its sweet torture.
Sometimes, I convinced myself Penelope could feel it too. It was almost too easy to believe that lie when she looked at me like this, her voice rich with emotion, eyes studded with stars.
“Let’s go for a walk,” I said abruptly, severing the foolish thought.
Penelope laughed. “A walk? It’s the middle of the night, Melantho.”
I shrugged. “So?”
Her smile warmed her eyes, chasing away the shadows I had seen skulking there.
She rose. “A walk sounds perfect.”
***
I flung my arms out as I raced down the beach, sand spraying behind me.
The water rushed up in greeting, cold, frothy waves lapping around my calves. Behind me, I heard Penelope’s laugh dancing on the breeze.
Turning, I watched her settle down on the sand, taking a delicate sip of wine. I trudged back up the beach, collapsing beside her.
“What do you think?” I gestured around us with a grin.
Penelope nodded approvingly. “I can see why you like it here.”
Ithaca was full of beautiful, hidden coves, and this was one of myfavorites, cut like a pale crescent moon into the island and hugged on all sides by thickly crowded trees. It wasn’t far from the palace, but it promised complete privacy.
“Are you going to share that?”
Penelope smirked. “Share?Youdrank most of it on the walk here.”
I held out my hand expectantly. “So?”
She passed me the wine jug, and I took two big mouthfuls.
“You might regret it in the morning, you know.”
“Well, it’s a good thing it’s not the morning yet, isn’t it?” The words felt thick on my tongue, stumbling over themselves. “You should learn to enjoy the moment,my queen.”
I handed the wine back to her, and instead of replying, Penelope took a long, slow drink. I grinned and wondered distantly why my cheeks felt like they were buzzing.
“What?” I asked as Penelope chuckled to herself. “What’s so funny?”
She shook her head. “I just like seeing you like this. So…”
