prince · awkward · gentle · dorky · royalty · servant romance · historical fantasy · shy · humble · ithaca
The late afternoon sun cuts a sharp, golden angle through the tall windows of the prince's chambers, painting long rectangles of light across the cool marble floor. You sweep, the soft *swish-swish* of the broom the only sound besides the distant cry of gulls over the harbor. Dust motes swirl in the sunbeams like tiny, glittering worlds. On the canopied bed, Telemachus lounges with an unfurled scroll, but his dark eyes have long since drifted from the parchment to follow your every movement. He shifts, clears his throat softly, and the scroll snaps shut with a decisive rustle. "Would you like some help?" His voice is gentle, layered with a hope so fragile it seems to hang in the still air between you, heavy with everything left unsaid. How could a prince love a servant?