Unraveling the Shroud of Night
A turn of the knob and the door opened. A woman clad in servants' garb slid quietly through the opening, balancing a tray of food. Crossing the room, she laid the tray upon a small square table. She turned to face the elegant lady who sat weaving at a majestic loom crisscrossed with threads of many colors. "Milady, your food is here." Curtsying, she waited to see if the queen would say anything.
"Thank you. If you would take this shuttle?" Penelope held out a shuttle wound tightly with thread, taken from the weaving she had done that day and undone during the night.
"Of course, milady." The woman took the shuttle and placed it on the top of a stack of unwound shuttles. She turned back toward the queen and entreated, "But would milady please consider getting to bed before midnight tonight?"
Penelope blinked. "Chrysanthe, you know how important it is for me to unravel as much of this shroud as possible."
"With all due respect," Chrysanthe answered sharply, "I know you're going to faint from exhaustion someday soon. And I cannot understand why the shroud cannot simply be finished."
"Chrysanthe, Chrysanthe," Penelope sighed. "Once I finish this weaving, they will force to me marry. And I will never marry one of those…louts, until Odysseus is proven dead. They disgust me, the way they carry on."
"Milady. Penelope. Odysseus has been gone nigh on twenty years. Must you remain so stubborn? If he were not dead, what could have lured him to stay so far away from home? Your duty is to remarry. Surely they are not all so bad. Amphinomous, for instance, is quite nice, clever and sensible."
Penelope's mouth was set in a stubborn line. "Odysseus is not dead and I will not believe him dead until I am shown proof of his body. Until that point, I will remain faithful to him. Do I owe Telemachus anything less than to honor his father? " Her eyes grew dreamy as she thought of her husband. " Odysseus is out there striving to return to me, I know it, Chrysanthe. What else could such a brave and fearless man do?"
"Brave and fearless, of course," Chrysanthe muttered. "Insurmountable obstacles have kept him away for twenty years. This has nothing to do with, say, his lust for women, no, of course not." Crack! Chrysanthe jumped back, holding her cheek where Penelope had struck her. The queen's eyes were icy as she looked at her servant.
"You have no voice in this matter. You will keep silent about it from this point onwards," the queen commanded. "Your presence is not required any more tonight." Chrysanthe curtsied silently, turned, and left the room, closing the door behind her. Penelope looked out the window at the twinkling stars, pausing before she turned back to her weaving.
"Odysseus will return home."