She guessed your favorite color on the first try, and now it was all you ever saw.

You were both in the garden, talking about your upcoming coronation and how soon, you would be the ruler of Ithaca. A beautiful kingdom that you had sworn to protect even before you understood what a coronation was.

Penelope was from Sparta, you see, and had come to Ithaca while you were in search of a proper suitor. The marriage would be beneficial for both kingdoms, which was why you had been attempting to start a relationship with her. You had only known her for a little over a day, but that was enough to draw you in. She was beautiful, more beautiful than anything, with sharp eyes that softened when she looked at you—you noticed whenever she spoke to you.

“Yellow!” Penelope smiled, eyes lit up like a little kid on a special occasion, with her lips pulled back into the breathtaking smile you adored so much.

Reaching down, Penelope gently plucked a golden yellow daffodil from the ground. Her fingers pulled on the stem, turning her body to hand it back to you. “Your favorite color is yellow, more specifically, daffodil yellow.”

You almost laughed. How could a girl so sweet have such a deep relationship with poeticism? Daffodils were beautiful, truly, with a meaning so straightforward: new beginnings.

As you took the flower gently from Penelope’s hand, you smiled and nodded in agreement. “You’re very good at guessing.” At the knowledge that she was correct, Penelope gently clapped her hands together.

What she didn’t know was that you never had a favorite color until she guessed one.