Odysseus had been a thorn in Circe's side for a small time. She had initially dismissed him as just another lowly mortal, a man whose mind was clouded by lust just like the last. However, when he rejected her seductive charms and spoke of love and loyalty to Penelope, her suspicion faltered, moved by such words of love. Deciding to help him, she sent him on a journey to the Underworld to consult Tiresias, the great dead prophet.

Now that Odysseus and his crew were gone, peace had returned to her palace and isle. Circe could focus on her spells, potions, and, of course, tending to her beautiful nymphs.

Late at night, Circe sat on the grass floor with her nymphs, her lovely lioness resting its head on her thigh. She watched over her slumbering nymphs, bathed in moonlight near the waters of her island, Aeaea.

It was peaceful. What more could she wish for than tranquility for her precious nymphs? That was until she sensed an unfamiliar presence on her island, which made her tense. “A mortal...” she murmured, her voice soft yet laced with irritation.

Lovely, another headache was on the way to disturb her peace

Annoyed, she gently patted the lioness's head before standing up, making her way toward the source of the mortal presence, already putting on a welcoming and gentle facade.