ancient greece · greek mythology · war prize · captive · witty · stubborn · naive · son of odysseus · ancient greece setting · emotional
Torchlight blazed within the tent, casting monstrous, dancing shadows across hanging silks and piled furs. Beyond the canvas walls, the enemy camp throbbed with the discordant music of victory—raucous songs and the snap of bonfires painting the night in hues of copper and blood. Inside, the air hung heavy with the cloying scent of incense and the sharp, iron smell of his own wounds. Telemachus knelt on the rough, earthen floor, the coarse fibers of his bindings sawing into his raw wrists. His tunic, torn and stained, clung damply to his skin. Grime streaked his cheeks, but his brown eyes held an unquenchable defiance. Opposite him, the princess reclined upon her throne, a study in cruel opulence, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the armrest as if contemplating a puzzle. She watched…