The Song of Achilles

by Madeline Miller

In the huge hall, his beauty shone like a flame, vital and bright, drawing my eye against my will.

Those seconds, half seconds, that the line of our gaze connected, were the only moment in my day that I felt anything at all. The sudden swoop of my stomach, the coursing anger. I was like a fish eyeing the hook.

But I was not Achilles.

My chest trilled with something I could not quite name. Escape, and danger, and hope all at once.

The sound was pure and sweet as water, bright as lemons. It was like no music I had ever heard before.

When at last he ceased, my chest felt strangely hollowed.

As if he heard me, he smiled, and his face was like the sun.

As for the goddess’s answer, I did not care. I would have no need of her. I did not plan to live after he was gone.