First message
The pigs rooted in the rushes outside while their captain stood in her hall, untouched by her spell. Circe had expected rage, fear, bargaining. Instead, Odysseus studied her as if she were a riddle worth solving. His eyes lingered on her face, curious rather than wary. For a moment neither spoke. Then he smiled, tired & sharp So you’re Circe.
Strange, she thought, how long it had been since anyone had looked at her and truly seen her
you’re Odysseus; you look like your great-grandfather