Penelope smiled tightly. “How odd. It is most unusual for the slaves to fight under this roof. But I thank you for…handlingthe situation. My goatherd appears in need of medical attention. May he be excused?”
“Of course, my queen.” Eurymachus flicked a hand at Melanthius.
“But…you told me I could join you,” my brother murmured.
“And now I’m telling you to leave.”
Melanthius seemed to shrink two sizes beneath Eurymachus’s quick dismissal. Yet still he obeyed, gathering what pride he could as he rose and stiffly bowed before striding from the room.
“My handmaid must also return to her duties,” Penelope said.
Eurymachus brazenly gripped my hips as he replied, “Your handmaid has promised to servemetonight.”
I felt a sickening rush of guilt as a burst of surprise flared in Penelope’s eyes. It was gone in a whisper, replaced by a steely calmness.
“It is not my handmaid’s place to offer herself.”
“She claimed she had your permission,” Eurymachus lied. “Orhave you changed your mind? Do you really intend to take away your gift to me?”
He grinned, knowing he had backed Penelope into a corner.
The tension in the room was as thick as a noose, pulling tighter by the second. The suitors’ eyes flickered between Penelope and Eurymachus, waiting excitedly to see if more blood might be spilled tonight.
“It is only a night, mistress,” I said, adopting the voice I had once used on Castor, sultry and bored. “You can spare me for one, can you not?”
Finally, Penelope looked at me, her gaze like a bolt of lightning, singeing through my bones. I saw the pain flash across her face, so dangerously close to the surface.
Eurymachus chuckled against my neck, his fingers trailing down my cheek.
“See, my queen? The slave wants to serve me. Don’t you, love?”
He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him so he could plant his mouth on my own. His lips tasted of sour wine, and I fought the urge to bite down on them, to make him bleed and yelp.
Eurymachus chuckled, then pushed my face away with a smirk.
Before us, Penelope had grown frighteningly still, as if she were cut from some ancient, eternal rock—unmoving, unyielding. But beneath that stillness, I sensed her silent rage. She stared at my mouth, and for a terrifying moment, I thought she was going to snap, to finally let that mask she had worn so well for so long come crashing down.
But then Penelope smiled. A slow, hard smile.
“Very well,” she said. “You may have her.”
Relief rushed through me, but when I looked at Eurymachus, at his triumphant smile, I felt a cold dread creep over me.
I can do this, I told myself.I can endure it.
To protect the palace, to protect my friends, to protecther.
“However,” Penelope continued, raising a hand as if to halt my spiraling thoughts, “I would first like to make an announcement.” She strode to the center of the room, standing next to a gleaming pool ofblood. “I have taken Eurymachus’s and Antinous’s wise counsel into consideration and given the matter much thought. After imploring the gods for their guidance, I have made my decision.”
I had not realized how far I was leaning forward until I felt Eurymachus pull me back against him.
“I have chosen to accept the death of my husband.”
No, no, no.
“And I have decided to remarry.”
Surprise stole through the room, and immediately the suitors began to grin at one another like a pack of wolves eyeing up their prey.
