Melantho

Content Warning: mention of sexual assault. She doesn’t know the face of the king of Ithaca; the throne goes to whoever is bold enough to sit in it of a night, drunk and japing, japing and drunk, drunk, drunk. Always drunk. Melantho keeps her head down, and creeps past the raucous men, aching and sore, […]

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Cordelia’s Portion

So was that to be her portion, then, fair Sister whom our Father loved best? Ah, for her own good it was, so say I, Goneril, and who would know best? A doddering old fool driven mad by years and the entitlements of his sex and station? Or I, Cordelia’s sister, who knew her from […]

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