There is silence. The food and wine sit before them, but neither eats, nor drinks. I can see Achilles' ribs through his tunic.
Priam's eyes find the other body, mine, lying on the bed. He hesitates a moment. "That is-your friend?"
Philtatos," Achilles says, sharply. Most beloved. "Best of men, and slaughtered by your son."
The Song of Achilles,
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