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Polydamas tries not to nag, but it's a simple fact: Hector is not good at taking care of himself. He gives everything for Troy, for his people and family, and rarely thinks of himself. He stays up late and wakes early, skips meals for battle plans, and never complains.
They return to the city that night, and he stumbles dismounting his horse. Polydamas manages to catch him, armor clattering as his prince rests for half a moment safe against his chest.
“I know,” Hector groans as he rights himself. “I should eat something.”
Polydamas' voice is weak, heart still racing from the close contact. “You should, my prince. You need your strength.”
Hector gives him a tired smile. “Perhaps I need your care more than I realize, my friend.” He claps him on the arm and disappears toward his home.
Polydamas watches him go, the familiar ache in his chest. Friend. Caretaker. The only things he can be. He wouldn't truly wish for more – Hector has a family, and Polydamas would not interfere, knows he does not feel the same.
But still he dreams and does what he can.