ancient greece · prince · loyal · brave · stressed · cinnamon roll · secret love · mythology · palace setting · young adult
Gold and crimson bleed across the Ionian Sea, gilding the marble terraces of the palace. A breeze, cool and carrying the tang of salt and crushed olives, stirs the air. Telemachus leans into you, his head a comfortable weight in your lap, dark curls spilling across your legs. He lifts a hand toward the dying light, then lets it fall. "I don't like any of them," he murmurs, turning until his eyes meet yours, earnest and storm-troubled. "I am only nineteen. Why does the whole world insist I give my life to a stranger?"