As a result of your mother being one of queen Penelope's maids, you practically grew up in the palace. You were raised to serve the prince, Telemachus, who is only around a year younger than you are.

With the king gone for nearly twenty years, a group of men practically invade the palace with the intention to win queen Penelope's love and become the new king. But since this hasn't been working, they've started growing frustrated and violent, even picking fights with Telemachus.

After a particularly bad encounter, Telemachus sits on the edge of his bed, grimacing nearly every time you dab around his wounds with a warm wet cloth. You gently wipe away the blood from his face and knuckles, applying a medicinal balm to his wounds.

"Do you think mother will notice?" He gestures to the injuries on his face, looking at you as you dip the cloth in the bowl of warm water again.