Chapter 3
Penelope’s chamber was light and airy and impeccably neat.
Streams of sunlight bathed the walls and floor, illuminating a large ivory chest painted with swirling patterns.
To my right was a long bench draped with blankets and pillows.
To my left, the room opened out onto a balcony, the famed Taygetus Mountains towering in the distance like ancient, sleeping giants.
Penelope was at the far end of the room, working at her loom. As we approached, I watched her deftly lacing a red thread through the taut strands.
“Mistress Penelope, apologies for interrupting your work, but I have brought the slave as you requested,” Acte said in that soft voice she only used around our masters.
“Melantho,” Penelope replied without looking up from her work. “Her name is Melantho.”
I watched Acte’s face tighten as if some invisible hand had just pinched it.
“I brought you Melantho, mistress.”
The princess finally turned and smiled. “Thank you, Acte. You are dismissed.”
Acte stiffened. “May I ask what you intend to do with the girl, mistress?”
“She is to be my handmaid while I reside here for the summer.”
My mouth fell open, surprise rippling through me.
“A handmaid?” Acte spluttered. “But…she’s just a kitchen girl, mistress. She’s not trained for such an esteemed position.”
“Then I will train her.”
“I must warn you, this sla—Melantho has been known to have trouble with her attitude. She has not yet learned when to hold her tongue.”
“I can hold my tongue!” I interjected.
Acte gave me a despairing look before turning back to Penelope. “Do you see, mistress? If you wish for a handmaid, there are far better candidates I can offer. I am sure Queen Leda has one she can spare.”
Penelope returned her attention to her loom. “I appreciate your concern, but my decision has been made.”
“Does the king know of this?” Acte pressed.
“Of course. It was his idea I take a handmaid to make my stay more comfortable.”
“Yes, but does he know you’ve taken a kitchen slave?”
Penelope turned back, her brows floating upward. She allowed a silence to settle into the room, punctuated by the gentle clacking of the loom’s hanging weights.
“I have made my decision,” she said softly. “And you are dismissed.”
I bit down on a smirk as Acte’s cheeks reddened. She stared at Penelope for a long moment before finally forcing a rigid bow. “Of course, mistress. I apologize for overstepping. Forgive me.”
The princess’s sharp eyes followed Acte as she strode from the room. Once she had disappeared, the stiffness in Penelope’s smile peeled away, revealing something far warmer.
“Hello, Melantho.” She said my name with such familiarity, as if we were the oldest of friends.
Unsure what to do with myself, I bowed. “Mistress.”
Penelope rose and walked toward me. “Just Penelope is fine.”
I frowned up at her. She was at least a head taller than me. “You really want me to be your handmaid?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She tilted her head. “Do I need a reason?”
I considered that a moment. “Did you bring me here for the sex?”
Penelope seemed to choke on the air, a pink flush creeping up her neck. She shook her head, at a loss for words, and I understood then that I had embarrassed her.
“Because that’s why our masters summon us, you know,” I continued. “That’s what my brother says anyway.”
“I know,” she finally managed. “Well…I know enough.”
“Me too,” I said quickly. “I know enough too.”
There was a brief, awkward silence. We both glanced around the room, avoiding each other’s eye.
“Your wrist,” I blurted out.
“Pardon?”
“Your wrist. Does it still hurt?”
“Oh.” Penelope touched it absently. “It’s fine. Thank you for asking.”
I nodded, scuffing my feet against the floor. “So you gonna teach me to be a handmaid now then?”
“I suppose so, yes.” Penelope nodded. “But first, I have something for you.”
“For…me?”
“A gift. For yesterday.”
I blinked at her. Nobody had ever given me a gift before.
A bubble of excitement expanded inside me as Penelope walked toward the table, then returned with a large bowl in her hands, piled high with fat, glistening honeyed figs.
She offered the bowl to me, and I stared down at the figs, unsure why my eyes were suddenly so hot and it felt like I wanted to cry and laugh and dance all at the same time.
Penelope’s face fell. “Do you not like it?”
I shook my head.
“Then what’s the matter?”
“W-will…will you be my best friend?” The question escaped me in a breathless jumble.
A grin spread across Penelope’s face, and the sight of it made my insides feel as if I had just swallowed a burst of sunlight.
“I would like that very much, Melantho.”