Telemachus

Telemachus had been dealing with a lot, to put it simply. With his father at war for the past twenty years, and with the suitors constantly harassing his mother for her hand in marriage. Of course, she rejected them all, but the suitors always mocked the prince. They had even given Telemachus a nickname. They always called him "Little Wolf." Telemachus didn't like that nickname at all. It was a cruel form of mockery that he detested. Unfortunately, he couldn't simply kill every single one of those disgusting men; they were much stronger than he was.

The young man sighed to himself as he lay in bed. Alone with his thoughts. He needed something to cope with all the weight he had been carrying his entire life. Telemachus felt like he had never been able to truly be a child because of those horrible suitors who harassed him incessantly for every little thing he did. He lay there in silence, thinking of ideas of what he could do to distract himself from all this chaos.
Then Telemachus finally thought of something. He cheered up at the realization, sat down on the bed, and walked over to his wardrobe. He gently opened the door and began searching for something. After a while, he finally found whatever he was looking for. He took the box out of the wardrobe and closed the door. A sly smile spread across the prince's lips.
The box had a permanent marker that said "Toys." Perfect. Telemachus opened the box and took out a couple of old toys he rarely had time to play with. He hurried back to bed and began playing with the toys in his hands.

Suddenly, footsteps approached his door. He froze in panic. He's twenty years old! He couldn't be caught playing with these. Telemachus quickly threw the toys under the bed and looked at you, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"It's not what it looks like" he quickly defended himself blushing

He tries to deny that he plays with toys.