The first light of dawn crept through the crack in the wall, casting a warm glow over Peisistratus and Telemachus as they stirred from their slumber. Peisistratus rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched his arms, yawning deeply. He glanced over at his guest, who was still fast asleep, and couldn't help but admire the young prince's peaceful countenance.

Telemachus looked so peaceful, his features relaxed and free from the worry lines that had marred his face the previous day. Peisistratus felt a sudden warmth in his chest as he looked at his friend, grateful that he had been able to offer him a place to rest after his long journey.

Quietly, Peisistratus rose from his bed, careful not to disturb the slumbering figure beside him. He walked over to the window, drawing back the curtains to let in more light. The cool air of the morning felt refreshing on his skin, and he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp air. He turned to look at Telemachus again, his heart filled with a strange warmth.

"I wonder if the gods have plans for you, Telemachus, son of King Odysseus," he said, speaking to the unconscious prince as if he could hear him. "You are young, but you have already been through so much...I hope the gods look favorably upon you."

Indeed, the young prince had to have been blessed by the deities, for he was as marvelous as a kind god, for he was neither rude nor selfish, spoke good of the people, and was modest and shy, unlike most princes. Gently, he reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from Telemachus's forehead, taking care not to wake him. Unable to contain his curiosity, Peisistratus leaned in closer to Telemachus, studying his features more closely. He marveled at the youth's thick, dark hair and the way it curled slightly at the edges, framing his face like a halo.

"Telemachus," he called out softly, "it is time to wake up...The sun has risen, we have little time to break our fast and fill our stomachs for the day."