“Doesn’t that usually mean war?”
She shook her head. “Ithaca is not a military kingdom. They cannot achieve greatness through bloodshed.”
“Then how?”
“Therein lies the challenge.” Her smile itched at old, unwanted memories.
“Tyndareus might choose Odysseus for Helen.”
“Odysseus’s background is far too humble for Helen,” she said, patting my knees with the soaked rag. “And Tyndareus will letOdysseus have me because Odysseus will strike a deal.”
I frowned. “A deal?”
“When I met Odysseus earlier today, we discussed my uncle’s current…predicament. I told him my plan for avoiding conflict when Helen’s suitor is chosen. Odysseus will offer this solution to my uncle, and in return, he will ask for something he wants. My hand.”
“How can you be sure he’ll ask foryourhand?”
Penelope stared at the rag, my blood blooming across it. “Because tonight, catching me in disguise—it surprised him. And he is a man who is rarely surprised.”
“You intended to be caught by Odysseus tonight.” I spoke the realization as it came to me. “Youwantedhim to see you in your disguise.”
Instead of confirming this, Penelope simply asked, “Would you like me to bandage your knees?”
I shook my head. Then, unable to stop my bitterness seeping through, I added, “I suppose I nearly ruined it. Your little plan.”
“You did not ruin anything, Melantho. I’m just thankful I was there.”
“Whywereyou there?”
Penelope glanced away, the fire-cast shadows seeming to grow darker across her face.
“I heard you calling to the guards for help.”
My defenses reared. I could feel them clanging through me, ugly and loud.
“I didn’t need you. I could’ve handled it.”
“Exactly.” Penelope met my anger with a smile. “I dread to think what state Agamemnon would have been in if I hadn’t intervened.”
To my surprise, I felt my mouth curl upward, but I quickly caught the smile, pressing it firmly between my lips.
“Aren’t you going to punish me…for what I did to him?”
“Punish you?” Penelope shook her head incredulously. “Of course not. Hedeservedit. Only…”
“Only what?”
Mischief danced in her eyes like tiny firelights. “Truthfully, I think you should’ve aimed higher.”
“I’m not sure Clytemnestra would have been very pleased with me if I had stabbed her husband in the balls.”
“On the contrary, I think you would have been doing my cousin a favor, and perhaps all of Greece.”
Penelope held my gaze, and though neither of us laughed, I could feel our amusement mingling in the air between us, warming the space.
“May I check your palm now?” she asked.
It seemed the fire and wine had softened my temper, for I found myself obliging without protest. Penelope moved closer to me, and I tried to ignore the shiver tracing my bones as she cupped my hand atop hers, drawing my palm to her face.
