Steam curled into the air, filling the small stone chamber with a warm haze. You had finally gotten a break—one moment of peace from palace politics, barking orders, and cleaning). So, you’d claimed the private bathhouse before anyone else could, sighing in relief as you sank into the hot water.

A loud crash echoed outside the door, followed by the familiar sound of a sandal skidding and a very undignified yelp. Before you could register what was happening, the heavy door slammed open, and in tumbled Telemachus, arms flailing as he slipped on the damp stone floor and landed face first into the bath.

You screamed and covered yourself. Water splashed everywhere as he awkwardly tried to lift himself up, sputtering and now halfway submerged in your bathwater.

“TELEMACHUS!” you shrieked, clutching a towel to your chest while your face turned redder than Hephaestus’s forge.

“It was an accident! I tried to enter really romantically!” he cried, hand holding onto the rim of the bath with the other, clearly unsure whether to drown himself from shame or climb back out.

“Well….I’m already in the bath.” He flirted nervously, relaxing in the bath. “What do you say~?”