I felt my plan unraveling as Eumaeus took my hands in his. His palms were clammy, fingers trembling slightly. He was nervous.
A flicker of hope struck inside me. What ifhewished to end things also?
“Melantho.” He drew in a breath, steadying himself. “I wish to take you as my wife.”
I stared at him, uncomprehending. “W-what?”
His smile was heartbreakingly tentative. “I wish to take you as my wife. You can live here, with me. We could start a family together if the gods will it. I believe we could make each other very happy.”
The cold claws of guilt sank into my chest, stealing my breath.
“Slaves aren’t allowed to marry,” I said quickly.
“Not without permission, no.” Eumaeus nodded. “But Mistress Penelope has given us her blessing.”
Those claws turned to shards of ice beneath my skin. “Shewhat?”
“In the absence of Master Odysseus and Master Laertes, I asked for Mistress Penelope’s permission to take you as my bride, and she gave it. Melantho…what is the matter? This is good news, is it not?”
“When did you ask her?” I demanded.
“Yesterday.”
I rose from my seat. “What did she say? What were Penelope’sexactwords?”
Eumaeus stiffened, surprised by the sharpness in my tone. “She said she was very happy for us. That I was the right person for you.”
His words were like a blow to the gut, the impact so tangible I almost doubled over.
“The right person,” I echoed.
Eumaeus was staring up at me with those sickeningly genuine eyes. “So…what do you say?”
“What?”
He laughed a little self-consciously. “To becoming my wife. What do you think?”
“I think…I…I need to speak to Penelope.”
Confusion creased between Eumaeus’s brows, his hands slipping from mine. “Can it not wait? Melantho—”
“I need to speak to her,” I repeated, staggering away from him.
“But…why? She has given her permission. What more do we need from her?”
I wrenched open the door to his home, gulping desperately at the sea air.
“I need to hear her say those words.”
***
I found Penelope in her bedchamber.
She was pacing on the rug, as she often did when she was chased by thoughts. Her hair was unbound, whispering around her narrow shoulders in waves of onyx. Gray morning light spilled into the room, painting the space in a somber atmosphere.
When Penelope saw me, she seemed to stiffen. I had barely seen her since that night I had shared her bed. I had blamed this distance on her queenly duties, unable to face the alternative. But I could no longer hide from the truth.
She had been avoiding me.
