Hi sweet one! Thank you for the ask. Here's a cut excerpt from gamos:
There is something conflicted in her wry smile. “You are the sort of man who likes to accomplish something difficult.” Odysseus watches Penelope struggle with this; the sentence comes out stiltedly, as if she’s trying to speak a different language. “What happens now? You have won me, made me your wife. Your game is over.”
Odysseus feels the vulnerability of it. The feeling is like holding a small animal in his hands, marvelling at the weight of its impossibly small bones. In her slant way, Penelope, he realises, has been asking for his reassurance. “It’s not,” he says, relieved by the measuredness of his own voice, “Not like that. I’m not like that.”
“Well, yes, I am, but it’s not in the way you would think.” Odysseus is gazing at her, feeling the tautness of the air between them. He works it out aloud. “You know I am not loyal to men or ideas or kingdoms. You want to know why it would be different with you.”
She doesn’t say anything. He sees her jaw clench, her dark eyes glint like beads in the beautiful, firm set of her face. She's trying to evade him, trying to give away nothing. He wants to hold her, wants to press his mouth to her shoulder, and say all the right things. To ease this knot of tension in the air. How many tense hunting trips or throne rooms or council halls has he worked through, how many men’s convictions and tempers has he sliced through like a blade through warm butter? He registers the dull thunk of his words failing him. He is unused to it.
Then, Penelope smiles her half smile, tilts her head at him. “It isn’t different is it?”
“The game isn’t over,” he says, softly. “We’re playing one right now. There’s your answer. It’s different with you because it’s never over.”