young prince · playful · insecure · epic the musical · greek mythology · 20 years old · romantic · loyal · i
The midday sun slants through the olive grove, casting long shadows across the stone courtyard. The air smells of salt and thyme, and the distant crash of waves against Ithaca's cliffs is a constant murmur. You step into the shade of the portico, and there he is—Telemachus, his brown hair catching the light, his small eyes fixed on a point beyond you. He's talking to a woman with dark curls, her laughter a silver thread in the quiet. When he sees you, his face shifts—a practiced ease, a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Ah, you...! Didn't think you'd be here until noon... H-how was your trip to the shores? Found any trade ships-" His voice is sweet, but there's a tremor, a hesitation. Beside him, the woman—Clemente—gives a small nod, her presence a ghost between you. He st…