╰┈➤𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ━━ ❝I envy those ignorant to the way Gods toy with us.❞
𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛- you're the object of many powerful men desires; from gods to warriors...they all want 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ᴇᴘɪᴄ: ᴛᴍ!ᴀᴜ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
[𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤/𝐟�...
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hey, winxies! Just wanted to give a heads-up to this little in-book 'one-shot' series called '𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒' since I edit a shitload of my books/chapters to make them more digestible/understandable (my daydreams shift dramatically from perspective to perspective like a film) a lot of scenes are put to the side because I don't want to mess up the pacing/overwhelm you all. But since I've been told you guys enjoy my writing---even the seemingly unnecessary bits---I'll be posting them 😩❤️❤️ i guess it can be seen as sort of filler/bridge scenes to get a look into things outside of MC perspective
Feel free to ask for clarity, I know I my writing tends to be erratic; I might not answer right away, but I'll definitely get to it...
Enough of my rambling, without further ado, here's extra part from ch.10 ┃ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧:
━ ⭑─⭒━
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━ ⭒─⭑━
Telemachus sat before his father in his parents' study.
It was a shared space where both Penelope and Odysseus spent their time overseeing the kingdom's affairs. The desk in front of him stretched almost the entire length of the room, with two chairs set behind it for both rulers.
Shelves filled with scrolls and books lined the walls, and in one corner sat Penelope's completed woven shroud, a testament to her patience and skill.
A fire crackled softly in the hearth, its warmth a gentle comfort against the stone walls.
Telemachus shifted in his chair, his leg bouncing restlessly. His eyes darted around the room, the flickering firelight casting dancing shadows across the aged parchment and the tapestry hanging above the mantle.
He tried to focus on the details of the room, but the uncertainty he felt twisted his thoughts into knots.
Across from him, Odysseus sat behind the large desk, glasses perched low on his nose as he read over a parchment, his gaze serious and unwavering. A servant stood by his side, carefully refilling his goblet with wine before silently leaving the room, leaving father and son alone.
As the door clicked shut, Odysseus finally looked up, his sharp eyes studying his son's posture. He set the parchment aside, his attention now entirely on Telemachus. "What seems to be troubling you, my son?"
Telemachus cleared his throat, shifting again in his seat. His hands fidgeted in his lap, fingers brushing against the fabric of his tunic. "Father, I... I need to speak with you. It's about..." He paused, his brow furrowing as he tried to find the right words. "It's about Lady Andreia of Bronte."
