"That was quite a story, My Lord." The woman smiles and claps, though not as wild as the other guests. Who is she? Saying that she's beautiful wouldn't do her justice.

If I were that poetic, I could write songs about her face alone. No. I had enough wine that I am.

She has similar features to Iphthime, but everything that the young girl is missing, she has it.

First of all, an extra few years. She's still young but much more mature. Her skin looks smooth and warm, and her olive complexion makes me want to caress it, but let's not get too physical.

"All right. As for the next anecdote..." Someone speaks but it no longer registers.

Where am I and what are my plans? This entire surreal time-traveling nonsense feels distant.

Right. I wanted to go back to my ship and help with the repairs. Avoid the Spartans, especially their woman. These no longer seem important, but I thought my life depended on them.

Why bother with that when I can look at her face instead? And of course, now that I want Nestor to introduce us, he's busy telling another embellished story. This woman is gorgeous.

"And that's how I met the Calydonian Boar." Another round of applause, and someone else starts a different story. Yes, other people are around me, but I can only see her.

Her nose is narrow and sharp, not too large but it draws my attention. Her eyes aren't the usual warm and dark brown but a cold grey, lending her a curious and smart appearance.

I better look away or they draw me in and won't let me go. They're like twin oases, cold relief within a hot and olive-colored desert that's her face. Oh, but that desert looks glorious too.

Her brows are bold and her eyelashes are dense with a natural curl. Girls in my time spent a fortune to imitate this effect with modern cosmetics, and she has it as a gift from the gods.

Her lips are full and dark crimson, enticing like her smooth velvety voice that escapes them.

I want to kiss them, even if it's only the wine messing with my mind. No. I want her to talk more.

"Who's next? Or should we move on to the desserts and start with the recitals?"

A faint voice from the background reaches my ears, but I already found my dessert.

She must be the older sister of Iphthime Nestor talked about. She has a pleasant voice too, but this is lower. It's almost smokey, with a hint of hoarse undertone, like someone who strained it.

Her hair is like velvet. It's a long, straight brunette, framing her face of a dream, and cascading down her shoulders. She must have spent a long time ruling them in but failed.

A few strands go rampant, breaking that perfect but cold look, making her more human. Cute is the word? But she's too majestic to use that on her. Oh, and that renegade strand.

"Iphthime, would you tell us a poem?" The girl on my left stands up and bumps my elbow a little. I glance at her for a split second with a dazed smile, then back to that hair strand.

It falls right in the middle, leading my gaze down between the supple curves of her breasts. They aren't enormous but they make themselves known. Her dress is simple, yet elegant.

A picture of perfection, despite the tiny imperfections. No, they even elevate her looks. Crap. How long did I stare at her? I must look like a lewd drunk. I could be one, and it's not the wine.

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It's her beauty, I'm getting drunk on, and my earlier caution and logical thinking go out the window. I must know her, and have her talk to me more. Anything will do.

"You have a wonderful voice, Iphthime. I can't wait to hear you sing." Another round of applause, but I missed the entire poem. I want to hear the woman on my right instead.

Will it cost an arm? Who cares, I have two, but what do I tell her? Nothing comes to mind.

Aren't you supposed to be smart, Odysseus? She flashes me a brief smile and then turns away.

Shit. Did I stare too long? Did I creep her out?

Of course, I did. I stared like a creep who had never seen a woman before.

Well, I've only seen girls until now.

The moment is gone, and I didn't say a single word. My mouth might have even been agape.

More wine. Now. I try to get a grasp and remember what I was thinking before noticing her.

But it's all blank. Who is this woman? How can I make her mine?

No, Odysseus, don't be so shallow to love someone for her looks alone.

I'm much better than this. Get a grip.

"Let us hear your other daughter now, Icarius." Our host raises his cup again, and the wine flows.

As I'm desperate to calm down, this dream on my right clears her throat and stands up.

I don't even understand the words. She must be reciting another poem, I don't care.

All I need to hear is her voice, that low and smooth melody with the ever-so-subtle hint of roughness.

And I'm not alone. The entire hall falls silent, nobles and servants all gazing at her.

Oh, this is bliss.

Whatever she says, I clap wilder than anyone in the halls, and my reward is her smile.

"That sounded like angels singing." I blurt it out, but my words are rough and slurred.

I'm getting too drunk, but it entertains her.

"I could listen to you day and night."

Oh no. I found my voice but now I can't keep it in.

I want to impress her and start another story about who knows what when Glauca flies into me.

The owl chirps like it's scolding me.

"Uhu-hu." This warrants a good laugh and another round of applause, but the impact helps clear my mind. Nice save, Athena, I could have revealed something strange or embarrassing.

The little bird climbs on my shoulder and the grey eyes on my right light up with curiosity.

Right, that's where I saw them before. Athena had similar eyes, but hers weren't this stunning.

Well, no offense to the goddess, but I saw her as an 8-year-old child first so it might be my bias. If I had to choose between Athena, Aphrodite, and this woman, I'd still choose her.

"So you're graced by Athena?" She asks and I'm not even surprised that she recognised the bird. Everyone does but me. Whatever, if it makes her interested in me, I take it.

"It appears so, My Lady." I try to pet the owl but it nips at my fingers. This makes her laugh, and I could kill to make it last longer. "And you must be someone who makes Aphrodite jealous."

"What a smooth talker." She scoffs, glancing around. She leans closer, giving me an even better view of her enticing cleavage, and whispers. "Would you be up for a game, Lord Odysseus?"

This sounds too good to be true. What does she mean by that? Who cares. I'd be up for anything if that means I get to be close to her. I nod and she stands up, waving to follow.