“Did you hear my request?”
“Do you not wish me to stay and…assist?” I asked, forcing my voice steady.
“Such insolence,” Odysseus muttered to himself.
“No, thank you,” Penelope said. “I would like to speak with our guest alone.”
“Very well.” I nodded numbly. “I shall prepare your chamber.”
Relief touched Penelope’s face, though it did not soothe the worried lines creasing it. “Thank you.”
I turned and walked away, every step feeling like a battle as I forced myself to leave Penelope alone with the beggar.
With her husband.
With the lost king of Ithaca.
***
It felt like a small eternity before Penelope returned to her bedchamber.
She looked dazed as she walked toward me, steps loose, eyes distant, as if she were drifting between thoughts.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” I whispered. I already knew the answer. I just needed to hear Penelope say it, needed her voice to solidify this madness into actuality.
She nodded.
It took every ounce of self-control not to run to her. I wanted to pull her into my arms and hold on as tightly as I could. But fear rooted me to my seat.
If Odysseus was lurking beneath this roof, nothing was safe anymore.
“Where’s his army? All the men of Ithaca…”
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
Penelope came and sat beside me, her body stiff. I was desperate to know what had occurred between Odysseus and her, but I could tellPenelope’s thoughts needed space to breathe. So I waited, as patiently as I could, while the silence settled over us.
“His timing is truly impeccable,” she finally said.
Twenty years, and the day Odysseus decided to return was the eve before our plan came to fruition. The Fates were surely laughing at us.
“Did he reveal himself to you?” I asked, leaning forward.
She shook her head, a slight wrinkle of irritation pressing between her brows. “No, he kept up his strange pretense. He thinks me clueless. It is a little insulting, I must admit.”
“Alittle?” I scoffed, shaking my head. “Why is he doing this?”
“Because he is afraid. He does not know who he can trust.”
“So this is some kind of test?”
“Yes. He clearly wishes to see who has remained loyal to him.” Penelope’s eyes focused then as if she were seeing me for the first time since walking into her room. “You must be careful, Melantho. You cannot speak to him the way you did tonight.”
“He grabbed Eurycleia by the throat—”
“And I fear he will do far worse if provoked.”
I balled my hands into fists, refusing to acknowledge the fear twisting inside me. “He cannot simply wander back in here and start threatening us—”
