I tried to stare ahead, but that familiar tide pulled me to her once again, as it always did. When I looked at her, my heartbeat began toquicken, pounding so hard in my chest it felt as if my ribs had shrunk around it, squeezing too tight.
How did she always have this effect on me?
And why did nobody else?
“Perhaps your mother regretted that this is the world she brought you into, but I do not believe, not for a single moment, that she ever regrettedyou.”
My vision blurred as I lowered my gaze to the ground, trying not to let the tears spill again. I did not know what to reply, so I said nothing at all.
Finally, Penelope let go.
“Sleep well, Melantho.”
In the darkness of my chamber, I replayed that moment over and over in my mind, torturing myself with every minute detail as a strange, heated ache awoke in the pit of my stomach.
Eventually, sleep took me in its swift clutches, dragging me down to that dangerous realm where my thoughts reigned free.
I dreamed of bare skin kissed golden in the firelight, of slender hands gripping me tight, lips curled into a drowsy smile as they found their mark upon my body. I dreamed of long, dark hair spilling around me like liquid night, of intense gray eyes staring up into mine as those familiar lips trailed along an expanse of bare flesh, inching down and down my body…
When I awoke with a start, I convinced myself I did not know who that person was. It was just a faceless figure, a vision of my own design, woven from the tapestry of my dreams.
It was a stranger. It must have been.
Ithadto have been.
26
I had made a terrible mistake.
This realization settled over me as I regarded the disgust on my brother’s face.
It had been Penelope’s suggestion to invite Melanthius to her quarters. She had offered a few days after we’d heard the news of Iphigenia, and a foolish, naive part of me had thought it a good idea. Melanthius and I so rarely had the opportunity to spend time together.
But now, watching him regard Penelope’s quarters with such deep revulsion etched into his face, I understood the fatal error I had made.
“It’s good to see you,” I said.
Melanthius remained silent, scratching an invisible mark on the table.
“Would you like some wine?” I offered, motioning to the ornate jug set beside us.
He laughed, the sound sharp and unpleasant. “Look at you in your fancy clothes with your fancy wine. How high you’ve risen.”
Anger surged up my throat, coating my tongue in hot, hateful words. But I forced myself to swallow them down. I had brought my brother here to close the distance between us, not widen it.
“How have you been?” I ventured as I filled two cups, trying to steer the conversation into steadier waters.
“This what you do all day then?” Melanthius asked coldly,ignoring the cup I set down before him. “Sitting around drinking and chatting. A tough job you’ve got yourself there, sister.”
My jaw clenched. “I was simply asking you a question.”
“Well, I didn’t come here to discuss how I am.”
“Then why did you come at all?”
Instead of replying, Melanthius glanced around the room. “Where is she?”
“Penelope is visiting King Laertes in his quarters. Hippodamia and Autonoë are out.”
