“Apologies, master.”
He held my gaze, and I wondered if he saw the hatred burning inside me as I spoke those words. I hoped he did.
He smiled. “It’s all right, Melantho. Just something to remember in the future. The relationship of a slave and master is all about respect.”
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes.
“You know, it used to bring me great shame, being the prince of Ithaca,” Odysseus continued, surprising me. “My kingdom seemed so small and worn compared to those of my peers. So I tried to get away from it, traveled all of Greece and beyond. But always, Ithaca called me back. Always, I came home. This place—it gets into your blood. Your bones. You can’t escape it. Now it is my mission to bring Ithaca the renown she deserves.” His words rang with the hollowness of a well-worn performance, and I wondered how many times he had made people endure this little speech. “One day, Melantho, you will be proud to call this land your home. I assure you.”
Slaves do not have homes, I silently screamed at him while my lips formed the words, “Yes, master.”
As if sensing my rage, Argos let out a grumble before skulking away to the shady corner of the room. A quietness settled then, the only sound coming from the raspy song of Odysseus’s blade against the wood. I watched his hands as he worked, so steady and sure. Thoughts came unbidden, and I imagined those hands on Penelope. I saw them skating over her bare skin, tracing the curves of her body…
“So, Melantho.”
I snapped my attention back to Odysseus’s face, my cheeks hot.
“I suppose you are wondering why I called you here.”
I had a perfectly good idea, though admittedly carving furniture was not exactly the foreplay I was used to.
“It is not my duty to wonder what my master’s desires are. I only act upon them.”
My smile mirrored the flirtatious curl of my words as I slipped into that familiar role with ease. I would be lying if I said a part of me did not enjoy it, toying with those threads of desire, tying them like invisible leashes around my master’s throat. Of course, the power was fleeting and hollow. But it was power all the same, and I had missed the taste of it.
“What is it you desire, master?” I prompted, inching a little closer to him.
“As of right now, my primary desire is to keep my wife happy,”Odysseus said, rubbing a wood shaving between his thumb and forefinger. “That is why you are here.”
I felt the smile fade from my face. “Because of…your wife?”
“It seems Penelope has a mission, one she is intent on seeing through. Do you know what that mission is?”
I shook my head.
“She wishes for you to be freed.”
The ground felt unsteady beneath me as Odysseus’s words sang through my veins, my soul.Freed.
“She…she does?” I breathed.
“She is rather insistent on the subject, and as I am sure you know, Penelope is a determined woman.” A glimmer of pride shone in his eyes. “Of course, I value Penelope’s opinion, and if she believes you deserve your freedom, then I am inclined to believe her.”
My chest swelled so much it hurt to breathe. I felt like I was dangling on a cliff side, clutching at Odysseus’s words as if they were the only things keeping me from tumbling into oblivion.
“Still, I wanted to do some investigating for myself, and to be truthful, Melantho, I have been left a little confused.”
“Confused?” I echoed.
“Well, first, for someone my wife supposedly admires, it appears you barely interact with her. I do not think I have seen you share a single word since you arrived here. And when I inquired with my kitchen staff, they told me they could not give an accurate estimation of your character for they know so little about you. Apparently, you rarely speak, and when you do, it is only to make inappropriate remarks.”
I stiffened, my hands balling into fists.Those rats.
“Not to mention your encounter with Agamemnon and, of course, the little mishap that occurred on my wedding night.”
He tilted his head, studying my slow realization with a smile.
“Mishap?” I feigned confusion.
