“I was not expecting guests,” Eumaeus murmured, watching me.
“Your home is lovely.”
“Thank you. I am blessed to have been gifted it,” he said. “Penelope says she is building more homes here for the palace slaves. Her generosity is remarkable, is it not?”
I tensed, glancing away. “Why did you leave the celebrations?”
A slight flush of color crept up Eumaeus’s neck, disappearing beneath his beard. “Because I saw you had.”
I said nothing. I knew Eumaeus had questions, but hospitality was a sacred custom, even among us slaves, so he could not ask them until I had been properly cared for.
“Would you like some food?”
I nodded, suddenly aware of how starving I was.
He motioned for me to take a seat, and I watched as he moved around his home. Despite his rugged appearance, there was something elegant and refined about the way Eumaeus held himself; his mannerisms seemed to have been plucked from another life, beyond that of small ramshackle huts and mud-coated pigs.
A few moments later, he set down a plate of bread and cheese beside a bowl of thick stew studded with chickpeas.
“Thank you.” I managed a smile.
I could feel Eumaeus’s eyes on me as he took a seat. If I had known him better, I would have said he looked nervous. Tearing off a piece of flatbread, I soaked it in the stew and popped it into my mouth. A hum of pleasure escaped me.
“Is it…to your liking?” he asked. “It would have perhaps beenbetter if the stew was hot, but I—”
“It’s delicious, Eumaeus,” I cut him off. His smile was so genuine it beckoned my own. “Do you like to cook?”
He nodded. “I am permitted my rations from the palace, and everything else I source for myself. Mistress Penelope sometimes brings me spices from the market…” Eumaeus paused, studying my face. His gaze then dropped to my damp clothes. “Are you sure everything is all right, Melantho?”
I was surprised by the flicker of genuine concern in his voice.
“I’m fine.”
“You can tell me if you’renotfine,” he offered, his eyes painfully sincere.
“I just…needed some time away from the palace. Sometimes it all… It gets a bit much.”
Eumaeus nodded. “I understand.”
I was certain he did not.
We lapsed into silence, and Eumaeus glanced around the room as if searching for something to say.
“I saw your brother the other day. He asked after you.”
I almost choked on my food. “He…he did?”
“I believe he misses you.”
I pushed my plate aside, appetite withering. “He’s had nine summers to speak with me if he wished to.”
Eumaeus stared at my unfinished stew. “Melanthius is a lost soul. I think…he could use some guidance. The guidance of a sister.”
My smile was so tight it stung. “I am not his sister. Not anymore. He’s made that clear enough.”
“You know that’s not true, Melantho. You will always be—”
I rose abruptly. “I shouldn’t have come.”
