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512 pages, Paperback
First published March 17, 2026
The worlds of Melantho and Penelope have always intersected, even though the girls live in different social circles. Melantho is an enslaved girl in the palace of Sparta while Penelope is a princess. When a friendship blooms between them, the royals don’t approve and Penelope is sent away after being made to witness Melantho’s punishment for dreaming beyond her station.
When their paths cross again many years later in Ithaca, Melantho, who is one of the slaves sent to serve Penelope and her new husband Odysseus, is initially determined to stay away. But the lure of Penelope’s personality and friendship makes it tough for her to stick to her resolve. As the war breaks out and Odysseus is forced to fight in foreign lands, the women in Ithaca find themselves facing a new situation, and new freedoms.
The story comes to us in Melantho’s first-person POV.
“how could we love each other so greatly and the world still deny us?”
"Let history have its lies if it means we can have each other."
“I rescued two women from the slave market today,” I said.
“How?”
“Laertes gave Penelope silver to purchase more handmaids and I—”
“So you didn’t rescue them. You bought them.” Disgust dried out Melanthius’s voice. “You paid a slaver.”
“I bought them their lives back,” I snapped. “I bought them another chance.”
“That how Penelope justifies it, is it?”
“It was my decision. I chose to save them—”
“That’s not saving them, Melantho! Not if they’re still slaves.”
“And yet…” Hippodamia took another slow drink. “Even when she sits upon Ithaca’s throne, Penelope will still be a possession. She will still belong to a man. That is the curse all women carry. A curse that unites us.”
“So what? You think we should see Penelope as one of us, merely because she’s a woman?”
Hippodamia smiled, setting her cup down gently. “What I think, Melantho, is that we should see people in our own light rather than the light the world tries to force upon us. If Penelope does not treat me as a slave, then why should I treat her as a master?
I sat down beside her on the wall. “There’s nothing beautiful about labor."
For a slave, no, you are right,” she agreed. “But for women like that, work means independence. It means freedom. That is the gift this war has given Ithaca…space for the women to grow.”