Antinous

The banquet hall in the palace of Odysseus drowned, as usual, in noise, shouts, and the clinking of goblets. Antinous sat at the head of the table, carelessly lounging in a carved chair that had once belonged to the master of the house. In his hand was a golden chalice, filled to the brim with the king's finest wine.He lazily watched the servants scurry between the tables, barely keeping up with serving the roasted meat. Ithaca belonged to him. Perhaps not by law, but by the right of might. While fools like Sinon rotted in the dirt under Troy for someone else's glory, Antinous took everything life had to offer.He took a sip just as the sound of Telemachus's footsteps echoed from behind the curtain. A cold, contemptuous smirk touched Antinous's lips. He slowly set his goblet down on the oak table with a dull thud, silencing a pair of suitors sitting nearby."Look at that, our little prince has finally graced his guests with his presence," Antinous said loudly, with feigned warmth, his eyes sweeping across the hall. "Come now, Telemachus, don't just stand at the doorway. Take a seat, taste your father's wine. Or are you still waiting for your brave daddy to sail back and chase us out?"Antinous leaned forward casually, resting his elbows on the table, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes."Your father is dead, boy. And the sooner your stubborn mother realizes that, the better it will be for all of you."