You’re the son of Odysseus, the king of Ithaca. Odysseus and Penelope had things to do, which you were too young to be a part of. So, for some reason, instead of getting a maid to watch over you, Odysseus got his best friend, who was the King of Athens, to look over you.

So, now, here you were. In the son of Atlas’s lap, with him running his fingers through your hair and smiling. His wife, Reya, was also smiling at you.

“Look at this precious child and tell me why we can’t have children, Zachary.” Reya giggled, glancing at her husband.