“We remain in my chamber until it is over,” Penelope instructed. She had sealed her emotions in so tight, leaving her voice glassy and cold.
I reached for her hand, her palm clammy against mine.
“He will be all right,” I murmured.
She nodded, her eyes shimmering.
“Penelope,” Autonoë called from behind us. “Weren’t all the slaves dismissed?”
We halted, turning to where Autonoë was standing on the balcony overlooking the central courtyard.
“Yes. They were,” Penelope said.
I went to stand beside Autonoë, unease swelling inside me as I caught sight of a shadow rushing between the olive trees below.
Melanthius.
A strangled gasp escaped me.
“I have to go to him,” I said, turning to Penelope.
“No.” Her expression was so blank, one could have thought her callous, unfeeling. But I knew her better than that.
“If he steps foot in that hall, he could die.”
“As could you.”
“Penelope—”
“He’s made his choice, Melantho. You know you cannot convince him otherwise.”
She was right, and a dark part of me knew this was all futile, that my brother was already lost. But what else was I to do? How could I live with myself if I walked away now? Even if my brother was beyond saving, I still had to try.
“I need towarnhim,” I pressed. “I can’t just let him die like this.”
“And I cannot let you go.”
“Penelope—”
“Please.” The word cracked along with her composure. “Staywith me.”
“I have to help him.”
“Why must it be you?”
“Because he has nobody else,” I whispered.
“I will go with her,” Skaris said, her hand warm on my shoulder. “We will be careful.”
Penelope’s eyes darted between us, the corners of her lips trembling, ready to form the word “no.” But then she inhaled a slow, steadying breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her expression was sharpened by a newfound focus.
“Be as quick as you can. If you see the pirates, you run. If you see a suitor, you run. If you see Odysseus, you run. Whatever you do, do not step asingle footinside that hall. Do you understand me? Do not go anywhere near it.”
Skaris nodded before turning to me. “Come, we must move.”
I went to follow her, but Penelope caught my wrist, pulling me abruptly into her arms. The embrace was too quick, too breathless, too tangled with emotions we could not let spill.
“Come back to me,” she whispered into my ear.
