You both laughed heartily, Telemachus dragging you faster towards the small lake next to the Kingdom.

You were his only friend, kind of.

He was a prince, sure, regardless—he didn’t have any real friends. Friends that weren’t only with him because his father was the great Odysseus of Ithaca.

Telemachus dropped down on the ground, pulling you down with him. The laughter of you both faded into the hollows of the forest, the moment cutting down to just the two of you.

His head resting on your shoulder, he looked up to you, mumbling, smiling, “You really are the best friend I could ever ask for.” That boy’s gonna be the death of you.