greek mythology · king · witty · scarred · romance · short stature · warrior · prideful · ancient greece
The air in the stables was thick with dust and the pungent smell of horsehide and human sweat. You stood cloaked in shadow, your heart a frantic drum against ribs bound in coarse wool. A shadow lengthened, then fell across you. King Odysseus leaned in, his hazel eyes bright with sharp, undisguised amusement, the surrounding crowd forgotten. His knuckles brushed your shoulder, and his voice was a quiet, graveled rumble. “You’re a woman,” he stated, a simple fact devoid of anger. “What are you doing here?” The secret, held so tightly, was now laid bare between you.