DESTINED
Jessie Harrell
Copyright Jessie Harrell 2011
Mae Day Publishing, Smashwords Edition
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
MAE DAY PUBLISHING
Jacksonville, FL
This book is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places and incidents are either
the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2011 by Jessie Leigh Harrell
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form
or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,
or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented,
without the permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer
who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review
written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper or broadcast.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume
any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.
Cover designed by Joshua Longiaru
Cover photography (c) Perri Eriksen
Printed in the USA Second Edition
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 ISBN 978-0-615-50095-9
Dedication
To Holt, my own personal Eros.
Chapter 1 - Psyche
My stomach churned as the smell of ground charcoal and nearly-rancid oil smeared across my eyelids. Whoever decided that greasy anything should be part of a daily beauty routine deserved permanent exile.
The stink never seemed to bother Maia though. She hummed quietly while layering on the goop -- and it was driving me nuts. My teeth ground into my cheek until I managed to shred another piece of skin.
“Will you stop fidgeting? I’m going to have eye paste all over your face if you don’t hold still.”
Servant or no, Maia was good at keeping me in my place. “Sorry.” I stopped chomping my cheek in favor of twitching my foot.
Maia placed her weathered hand against my forehead; her eyes wrinkled around the edges with concern. “You don’t seem yourself today. Are you sure you’re well?”
My eyes darted to the bird sitting on my bookshelf. Maia followed my gaze and gasped.
“Good heavens, Psyche. How’d a pigeon get in here?”
She dropped the makeup onto my vanity and made as if to shoo the bird away. Instinctively, I snatched her wrist.
“No, don’t. I let her in.” I paused, debating whether it was worth correcting her that the bird was actually a dove, and not a pigeon. Or noting that the dove would turn into Aphrodite as soon as Maia left.
Better just to let it go.
“I like having her here. I’m just worried Father will make me get rid of her.” I met Maia’s eyes and plastered on my best smile -- the one Aphrodite helped me master when she wasn’t a bird.
Maia’s shoulders relaxed and she started in on phase II of my beautification regimin: crushed mulberry blush. But there was no relaxing for me.
Something was up. This was the fifth day in a row Aphrodite had come to visit. Sure, she’d shown up a couple of months ago, just after I started getting daily admirers at my window. She’d said she liked watching beauty get the attention it deserved. It was part of her domain, after all. And then she’d dropped in randomly after that, but not daily.
Even though I pretended like nothing was different, I knew she wanted something. Something more. Goddesses don’t just hang out with mortals for the fun of it. But what?
Was she somehow soaking up the energy from the crowd outside? If so, would she want me to stand at this window every morning for the rest of my life? And then what would happen when I wasn’t young enough, or pretty enough for her anymore?
I gulped when I was struck by an even worse thought: what if she was spying on me, watching how I reacted each morning. Would she call me out for Hubris after being the one who encouraged me to really pan to the crowd?
My chest constricted under the weight of my worry; my nerves felt frayed, like the end of rope that’s been snapping in the Aegean breeze too long.
Maia has got to stop humming!
I started to turn my head so I could ask her to knock it off, but she just brushed at my tangle of curls harder when I moved. “Maia, please,” I moaned, “can you quit with the humming right now?”
With Maia now silent, I was left with only the rythmic brushing of my hair and the dove-made tapping. Her nails clicked against the wooden shelf where she paced. As honored as I was by her presence, I almost wished I could reverse the past few months. I wouldn’t have sat for the portrait at the art academy. The artist wouldn’t have gotten famous by drawing my face. My face wouldn’t have ended up floating around Greece. And Greeks wouldn’t have started showing up at my door to see if the real thing looked as good as the paintings.
Even the tokens of admiration they brought with them were inadequate to pay for all I’d lost. My parents’ coffers were robust and juicy, but my life was sucked dry. I wanted shopping trips to the Agora with Mother, jaunts to the Baths with my sister, gallops through the fields on my horse -- all things I’d been denied in the name of safety.
As Maia finished looping my favorite silver headband into my hair, Aphrodite-the-bird fluttered down to the vanity for a closer inspection.
“Shoo.” Maia flicked her hand at Aphrodite before I could stop her. “Get off, you dirty, old thing.”
“Stop.” Leaping to my feet, I scooped the bird goddess into my palms. The feathers around her neck stuck straight out and her head bobbed frantically as she gurgled up a strangled coo sound.
“There, there,” I crooned as I stroked her with my fingertip. “Maia didn’t mean that.”
Maia huffed. “Don’t know why I bother trying to help you sometimes.”
“Maia,” I said, dragging out her name and giving her my best pout. “You know I love you. Don’t go away mad, okay?”
She sighed. “I know. Just go away.” As she moved to the mahogany door, Maia gave a pointed look over her shoulder at my window. “Your admirers are waiting. Wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”
“What’s that supposed to --” I started before the door clicked closed. “Mean?”
When I turned around, Aphrodite sat sprawled across my marble vanity, her legs crossed at the knee as she reclined.
“She,” Aphrodite nodded her head at the door before flicking a golden tendril over her shoulder, “is no fun.”
I eased down onto the stool beside her, glad to see she didn’t look as angry as I’d feared. “Maia’s not that bad. I just don’t think she likes all the people hanging around outside. It’s gotten a lot worse lately.”
Aphrodite raised a narrow eyebrow. “Worse? You’ve got admirers flocking from every corner of Greece to lay gifts at your feet in exchange for one glimpse of your face. That’s not a bad thing.”
I nodded, but had no response. Goddesses might enjoy collecting tributes, but for me, it felt wrong.
Aphrodite plucked a bottle of lily-scented almond oil off my vanity and rubbed it into her arms. “You heard what she said, didn’t you?” Aphrodite asked.
“About me disappointing the admirers?”
She shook her head. “Not that. She said I was old.”
“Don’t be... silly.” I almost said ‘ridiculous,’ but then remembered who I was talking to. “You’re the most beautiful goddess in Greece. And you’re not old.”
She set aside the oil and clasped my face in her palms. “No, she’s right. I have a son your age. You’re the new beauty in Greece, Psyche. It’s you now.”
Whoa. I was pretty sure accepting that compliment would earn me unending torture in Tartarus one day. While I was still stammering for something to say, Aphrodite nimbly hopped to her feet and circled the room. “I can feel it. Today’s the day.”
Her cystaline eyes were wide and wild and I didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed.
With more drama than any actor, she flung her arms toward the wooden shutters still barring my window. “Go to your people. They’re waiting.”
“What?” It came out more a stammer than an actual question. They weren’t my people. They were subjects of their own cities; devotees of the gods. But mine? Never.
When her eyes locked back on me, a radiant smile spread across her face. In a quick movement, she scooped up my hands. Her touch sank into me like a sun-warmed stone. “This is what I’ve been waiting for. This day. I learned from my mistakes with Helen. But you?” She shook her head and smiled. “Oh, Psyche, you’re going to make me proud.”
Maybe Maia’d been right and I was sick after all, because I was pretty sure I had a disease that made my tongue swell and my jaw lock closed. Was she really comparing me to Helen? The face that launched a thousand ships? The slut who started the Trojan war with her affair?
I couldn’t compare to Helen. I didn’t want to compare to Helen. That wasn’t me.
Racking my brain, I tried to remember what role Aphrodite played in the war. What lessons she might have learned. But I drew a blank. My brain was a dog chasing its tail, never quite getting what it’s after.
With a gentle turn, Aphrodite planted me in front of the window and then stood clear as she flung apart the shutters. Sunlight and deafening cheers drenched my room before the sky began to rain jewels. Pearls and gold, diamonds and coins. Anything to show the mob worshipped at the idol of beauty.
“Catch me,” Aphrodite whispered before morphing back into her bird form. Her white feathers carried her in a wide arc outside my window and then back in again. Obediantly, I held out my cupped hands for her to land.
If the mob was cheering before, now it was undergoing an eruption. I seemed to be the only one who didn’t know what was going on. Sure, I knew doves were Aphrodite’s sacred bird, but my dove had been coming and going for a solid week and this reaction was a first.
Maybe there was something special about them seeing us together?
Then one name cut through the voices, taking shape slowly, little by little, until all those below me were chanting the same thing: Aphrodite. I looked down at my feathered mentor and she winked back before fluttering away.
Too many thoughts raced through my brain for any one to become clear. Do they think I’m her? Does she want them to think I’m her? Or do they know the dove is her? Oh gods, what does this mean?
“Come back,” I screamed, desperate for answers and figuring no one would hear me over the deafening crowd.
Frantically I scanned for any trace of the dove -- raking over faces, casting aside flesh in my search for feathers. But I halted when a pair of eyes from the back of the group caught mine. The woman made her way forward and the mob parted to let her pass, like she was a magnet pushing away an opposing force. Almost hypnotically, the chanting died down and attention focused on her.
As she stood directly under my window, a sharp breeze rustled her robes, carrying up the unmistakable fragrance of lily-scented almond oil. Her crystalline eyes met mine and I knew it was her.
Aphrodite.
She just stood there, letting the glamour of her mystic’s disguise settle over the crowd. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought she was one of the fortune-telling gypsies myself.
“Finally, she makes her daughter known to us.” Aphrodite reached up a now-wrinkled hand and pushed back the hood of her burgundy robe. Silver hair tumbled down her back in a thick braid. “Our attentions have not been in vain. Aphrodite has finally sent us a child to spread mortal beauty through the world!”
I’d never heard such roars in all my life. The crowd around her jumped and surged, yet she remained rooted in an island of calm. In the din, Aphrodite mouthed three words to me before vanishing unnoticed.
I’ll explain later.
Chapter 2 - Psyche
Before I could fully process what was happening outside my window, my name erupted from down the hall like a Santorini volcano. “PsyCHE!” Father always emphasized the “K” part of my name when he was angry or excited, and I wasn’t sure which way this was going.
After a quick goodbye wave to the crowd, I slammed my shutters closed and pressed my back against them. Sucking in a deep breath, I put on my best serious face and marched from my room and into the scroll-lined walls of the library. As always, my parents were there, waiting to count the treasures I received that morning. The cold sweat trickling down my spine evaporated when I saw their faces.
Ebullient.
Aphrodite’d taught me that word earlier this week. She thinks beauty is even more powerful when it’s backed with knowledge. And she insisited that I “certainly ought to know a word that described a cheerful and energenic person like myself.” Today, the word fit my parents’ expressions. Their eyes shone like a thousand candles blazed inside their heads and their smiles threatened to permanently engrave laugh lines into their cheeks.
“Today. At the window...” Mother covered her mouth with her tiny hands.
“Well, you know what this means?” Father cut in. “Aphrodite has spoken.” He crushed me against his chest in a spine-crunching hug. He released me when my bones actually popped.
“Sorry, baby,” he said. “It’s just -- we’ve waited so long for this news. All the signs were there, the crowds, the tokens. Still, we were starting to think you weren’t going to be chosen.”
Mother reached out her hand. Taking it, I sunk down next to her on the couch. “Of course,” she said, “we never doubted you. But it’s only been two generations since Helen, so we thought perhaps she was still biding her time before picking another daughter.”
“What do you mean -- daughter? I’m not her daughter,” I stammered.
Tears leaked from the corner of Mother’s eyes. She rubbed them away while trying to smile. “It’s a figure of speech. More symbolic than anything. Aphrodite has a history of picking a mortal girl to serve as her daughter. Kind of like how Apollo has the Pythia in Delphi.” Her gaze settled on my face as she studied my features, so like hers.
“I’m surprised she didn’t explain this to you already.” As her emerald eyes shifted to Father, she bit her lip. “Is it a bad sign that she didn’t come to Psyche before the announcement?”
Here we go -- signs, omens, superstitions. Mother was about to get on an unstoppable tangent unless I stepped in.
Father stroked his beard. “I’m not sure I’d call it a --”
“It’s not a sign,” I interrupted. “She’s visited me before. She just made me promise not to tell anyone, and well...” I threw up my hands at their incredulous looks. “What’d you want me to do? She’s a freaking goddess.”
I’d read enough to know that crossing the gods was bad news. Do something they tell you not to? Game over. No way would I blab Aphrodite’s secret, even if her visits were the coolest and most terrifying things I’d ever experienced.
Father smiled at Mom. “Well, I guess we didn’t need to worry about the decision, now did we?”
Releasing my hands, Mother smoothed out the folds of her tunic before slowly rising and pacing over to the window. I thought she’d be relieved to hear there were no evil omens descending on our palace.
“Phoebe? Are you alright?” Father asked.
She sniffed as she waved him off. “I’m just...I’m worried. There’ll be a lot expected of Psyche now. The mortal daughter of Aphrodite. It’s a big responsibility.”
Father gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “And the first pure mortal too.” His gaze, so full of pride -- the same expression he wore whenever he returned from a successful duel or a neighboring king came to pay homage -- washed over his face. “Helen was so beautiful because she was half-immortal.”
And I’m not.
I wondered if that made me more or less special.
“Wow.” I tucked my legs in close to my chest and gave them a squeeze. “You guys should’ve told me. I had no idea. I don’t even know what to say or do when she comes back.” I looked up and met Mother’s eyes. She was the one who always had answers for me. “Am I supposed to act like I’m part of the Olympian family now or something?”
Flinching, Mother spun into Father’s arms and sobbed. Shudders wracked her tiny frame; all he could do was smooth her hair and whisper to her.
“What’d I say?”
Father looked over at me. “She’s just upset because you’ll be getting married so soon now. I’m sure she thought she had more time with you girls.”
Wait. What? I’d just been adopted by a goddess today - wasn’t that enough of a status change to last for awhile?
I rubbed at the bridge of my nose as the tinges of a headache started to bloom behind my forehead. “How does me being Aphrodite’s adopted daughter require that I get a husband?”
“Honey, your Mother and I already talked about this. We decided that if Aphrodite did pick you, then both of you girls should be eligible for marriage immediately. She is the goddess of love, so naturally she’ll want our family to represent that for her.”
“So what? I have my whole life to do that. But I know Aphrodite didn’t match Helen up with Paris of Troy until long after she’d already been married to Menelaus.” And inadvertantly starting the largest war in history. “So why do you guys think...”
Then something Aphrodite said that morning registered in the back of my mind. I learned from my mistakes with Helen. Maybe that meant she wasn’t planning on waiting with me, letting me find my own course before she intervened. She was going to control it from the start, wasn’t she?
Father was yammering on, probably answering my question even, but I’d stopped listening. Chara was older than me, and she wasn’t married yet -- didn’t want to be. We loved living in Sikyon. We didn’t want to leave behind the artists who painted portraits for an obol, or the tragic plays that flowed through our theaters with the changing seasons. This was my home, and though I always knew I’d someday have to leave, I wasn’t ready to go yet.
“Psyche, are you listening to me?”
Father’s voice shook me out of my trance. “I said, go tell Chara we’ll start accepting suitors tomorrow.”
If there’d been any color left in my face before, it had to be gone. Tomorrow? I blinked, forcing back the edge of panic I felt rising in the pit of my stomach. “We don’t need to rush into this. I mean, Aphrodite hasn’t even dropped by to see her ‘daughter’ since the big annoucement.”
Father leaned forward and whispered, “You’re obviously pretty good at keeping secrets, so I’ll trust you not to share this with your sister. But in addition to honoring Aphrodite in her union, Chara’s bride price will be a lot higher right now because of your news.”
I’d have been less surprised if the roof of our palace collapsed on my head. Mother and Father wanted to sell us off now because we were at the peak of our bride price? Seriously?
Thankfully, Maia found me before I could start shrieking at my parents or tearing out my hair like a raving lunatic. “Psyche, child, I need your help for a minute. While I was making up your bed, your pet returned.” She lowered her voice so only I could hear. “And it’s brought a friend.”
The constriction in my chest lightened even as my heart skipped erratically. Maybe Aphrodite would have some better answers. Surely she’d say my parents were insane and forcing the princesses of Sykion into early marriages hadn’t been part of her grand plan.
“A pet?” Father mused. “Psyche doesn’t have a --”
Mother broke away from her sobs long enough to figure out what Maia really meant. “Aphrodite’s back in her bird form, isn’t she?”
“Probably,” I admitted, already hurrying to the door. “But I want to see her alone first. Have some mother-daughter bonding time.”
And see who in Hades she brought with her.
Maybe it was one of my goddess aunts? Would Athena show up as a dove too, or did she only do the owl thing? What about Hera?
Brushing past Maia, I raced down the hall. Curiosity aside, my new mother and I had some issues to discuss about certain forthcoming wedding plans. After reminding myself that I needed to thank her for choosing me before unloading all my family drama, I pushed open my door and stepped inside.
Chapter 3 - Psyche
When the door was closed, I spun around, eager to see who Aphrodite had brought with her.
I was two steps into my room when they changed. Expecting a goddess, I couldn’t have been more stunned by the additional visitor.
Or wrong.
Those soft blonde curls and piercing blue eyes didn’t belong to any goddess. Only the most amazing guy - god? - I’d ever laid eyes on.
My heart took off at a sprint and the blood rushed to my cheeks. He shot me a coy smirk that made my stomach slush with uneasy delight. So when a pair of pristine white wings unfurled from his back, my knees almost buckled. And here I’d thought he couldn’t be any more magnificent. No doubt about it, this guy was divine.
Aphrodite threw her arms wide, demanding I place my attention on her. “So, are you surprised?” she asked.
Although she’d never hugged me before, I knew it was what she wanted me to do. To sweep myself into her embrace and prove myself grateful of my new role as her mortal daughter.
“Surprised isn’t the half of it,” I mumbled, stepping into an awkward hug.
Her arms tightened around me as she rocked me side to side. “This is so exciting for you. And for me.” She pushed me back at arms-length and stared at my face, her eyes searching mine. “You’re the one I’ve been waiting for. I can just tell.”
Beside her, the boy’s wings ruffled. “You’ve had your little mother-daughter reunion. Can we go now?”
Still keeping one arm draped over my shoulder, Aphrodite wrapped the boy up with her other arm. We were so close I could almost smell him, just a hint of rugged sunshine. “Don’t be silly, Eros. We all have much to discuss.”
Eros? Like the god-of-love, shoots-everyone-with-magic-arrows, son-of-Aphrodite Eros?
“Do we have to do it here?” His gaze swept my room and obvious distaste curled down the edges of his lips, wiping away that delicious smirk. “It’s so... pedestrian.”
What’s that supposed to mean? My temptation to bite his head off was tempered only by my need to stay on topic.
“Aphrodite --” I started. “I’m not supposed to call you ‘mom’ now or anything, am I?”
That infamous smile of hers pulled her lips tight and a perfect dimple flared on her right cheek. “Not yet, sweetie. Soon,” she shot a knowing look at Eros, “but not yet.”
I felt like I needed to sit down. Was the room spinning?
Rubbing at my temples, I tried again. “Okay. I’m sure I don’t understand most of what’s going on today, but we really need to talk. Because what my parents are planning makes no sense either.” Aphrodite perched on the edge of my vanity and cocked her head like she was waiting for me to continue. “See, here’s the thing. My parents are really happy.”
“They should be,” Eros half-coughed into his fist.
I shot him a glare before continuing on my rambling speech. “But, they think you’ll want me to get married right away. Which is just insane, right? I mean, you said I’d help you promote the worship of beauty, but we never talked about your other ... well, attributes. And so anyway, my parents are sending out requests for suitors, and my sister is going to get married off too, and this is all just ... wrong. Please tell me this is wrong.”
“Completely wrong,” Aphrodite confirmed with a wave of her hand. I didn’t realize how tightly I’d been squeezing my fingers until I let them go and the blood rushed back.
“Well, maybe not the part about your sister, but definitely about marrying you off.” She gave this throaty chuckle that erased all the insta-relief I’d had just a second ago. “Your parents don’t get to pick your husband. I do.”
Eros snorted and dropped onto a tripod stool on the other side of my room. “Yeah, and we all know how well that turned out last time.”
Aphrodite rose and paced toward her son. “What do you know about Helen?” Her voice fell an octave as she whisper-hissed. “You weren’t even born yet, you ungrateful little twit.”
Eros flicked his eyes to his mother. When he finally responded, his voice was level. “I know you started the worst war in the history of Greece and it all revolved around a pretty face.” He turned his stare on me and nodded. “So now you’ve found another one. Bravo, mother. What’ll it be this time. Can you use her to start a ten-year plague? Famine maybe?”
Aphrodite raised her hand like she was going to slap him, but then stopped. Her fist clenched, she lowered her arm and slowly turned to me. Her permagrin could’ve frozen lava in the summer.
“I’m sorry, Psyche. Had I known my son would be so... ill-mannered, I might’ve told you this news privately.”
My eyes darted from Aphrodite to Eros and back. She cleared her throat as she reached out and clasped my hand between hers. “Psyche, darling, you knew there’d be a time when I would need something from you? A small service?”
I nodded. Here it comes.
She raised my hand up near her heart. “I would consider it a personal favor if you would do me the honor of marrying my son.”
My jaw fell slack and I tried to back away, but Aphrodite had a death grip on my hand. Eros, on the other hand, had no such restraint. His sudden jump to his feet upended the tripod.
“Are you kidding me?” His wings spread wide behind him as he puffed himself up like a giant peacock and stormed his mother. “You think I’m going to marry her?”
“Yes, actually, I do.” Aphrodite twisted her mouth into a smiling snarl. “Or the next time Zeus wants to strip you of your arrows, I won’t stop him.” She finally released my hand to pat Eros on the cheek.
His lips pressed together so tightly they looked in danger of disappearing altogether. “A mortal or my arrows? That’s my choice?”
Aphrodite sighed, long and heavy. “I know she looks like the last one, but Psyche’s far prettier, don’t you think?” She turned to me and drenched me in a motherly smile. “And this one won’t break your heart.”
A muscle in Eros’ cheek twitched and I had the sudden feeling he was about to give in. Not that I felt the least bit sorry for him, but I had less than no interest in spending the rest of my life with the biggest jerk I’d ever met. Considering some of the Senators who’d come through our palace, that was saying something.
Before I could stop myself, the words tumbled out of my mouth. “Maybe we can figure something out.” Both of their blue-eyed stares nailed me to the ground.
“I mean, I’m not ready to get married yet. And really, Eros and I just met, and well, I’m not sure we’re the best match -- no offense.” Crap. That came out totally wrong. Did I just tell the goddess of match making that she sucked it up on this one? “I’m sure we’d look really good together and everything, but maybe our personalities don’t exactly mesh.” I was trying to smile but it felt way more like a grimace.
“Speak for yourself. No god looks good toting around mortal baggage.”
Had he really just said that to me?
Aphrodite’s tongue was quicker than mine to respond. “And I suppose that’s why you use your arrows to make Zeus fawn all over those mortal girls. Or why you fell in love with one yourself. Because they’re baggage?” She reached out and clenched my upper arm before thrusting me at her son. “I found you the most beautiful girl in all of Greece and this is how you thank me?”
Eros threw up his hands. “You want me to thank you?” He looked me up and down, his eyes slowly raking over my body from head to toe. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
Snatching my arm free from Aphrodite, I bore down on Eros. Instictively, my finger poked him in the chest like I was reprimanding a child. “Now you listen to me. I don’t give a crap who you are. Your mother has been nothing but good to me and you can not talk to her that way in my house.”
Eros’s fingers clasped around my wrist, sending a tiny charge racing through my body. When his eyes briefly widened, I was sure he felt it too. Our stares locked, only inches apart. I could even feel his breath tickle across my lips as he worked to slow his breathing.
As quickly as the moment came, it was gone. Eros threw down my arm and shot a glare at his mother. “Really? You think I’m going to marry this?”
Ugh. I had so had it with him. My palms hit his chest hard enough to rock him back a step. “I would never, ever, marry you. So don’t even think you can reject me, you pompous, arrogant... creep. Because I reject you. You hear me? Get out of my room.”
The initial look of shock on Eros’ face was washed away by pure delight. His eyes sparkled and danced like embers soaring over a bonfire. “With pleasure.” He took a sweeping bow, then turned to his mother. “I think that about settles things here, don’t you?”
Before she could answer, he morphed into a dove and fluttered through the cracked opening in the shutters.
I’d thought all the tension would’ve left the room on those wings, but I found myself working solo with a goddess whose usually-procelin face was now visibly red. Sure, she’d come to me before, huffing about slights or infractions. Like the time some farmer referred to her in a prayer as ox-eyed, when everyone knows that’s Hera’s moniker. But right now, she could put a steamed lobster to shame and I had a really bad feeling I was about to take the brunt of her anger.
“One thing. All I ask of you is one, little thing and you won’t do it?”
“He started it.” Way to be mature. I gave myself a mental eye roll and forged ahead. “Besides, you were supposed to ask me to do something related to beauty, not love or sex or those other things.”
“What made you think that? My terms were always left open. You accepted my advice, rose in fame, filled your family’s coffers.” She gestured wildly at my window, shaking her whole body enough to rattle the golden seashell necklaces draped around her neck. “It’s not like I’ve asked you to be a whore in my temple. You’d be married to a god.”
When she said it like that, she had a point. Still... I needed to think and her glare was halting my brain. Slowly, I took a step back toward my bedroom door. Maybe I could ease my way out. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t follow me in her actual body and she clearly needed some cooling off time. “I’m sorr--” I began.
“I made you my daughter.” Her voice echoed like thunder off the mosaic walls of my room. “And then you refuse my son? A child of my actual blood?”
I continued my backpeddle and tried to think of a way to stall. “Just, give me a little time, okay? I said I was sorry.” Behind me, my hand found the door knob and turned it. “He can’t say those things to you. It’s not okay.”
“It was not your place.” Her screech followed me down the hall as I tore out of my room for the second time that day.
Chapter 4 - Psyche
A note to self: when attempting to hide from a goddess, think broader than outside your bedroom. My scrambled brain led me down the well-worn hall to my sister’s suite and that’s as far as I got.
“Oh my gods!” Chara squealed when I barged into her room. Her blonde curls swirled around her shoulders like a golden whirlpool as she bounced. Apparently she didn’t notice I was freaking out as she danced and clapped.
Running past her, I dove into her bed and pulled the silk blankets over my head. Almost instantly, Chara tackled me and the bed shook under her continued jumping.
“What are you doing, silly? Come out.” Chara’s voice sounded light and airy enough to fly.
When I didn’t answer, she finally stopped her incessant bouncing.
“Psyche?” She shook my shoulder. “Is everything alright?”
No. It’s not alright. Not for me. Not for you. Nothing’s even close to alright.
“Not really,” I croaked.
The covers yanked away and I peeked up to see Chara standing over me. “Spill it. What’s up?”
I recovered my face with my hands. “You don’t even want to know. Seriously. It’s that bad.”
She tugged my hands free. “Come on. It can’t be that bad. You are Aphrodite’s daughter now.”
I nearly puked on the bed.
“Fine.” I sat up and took a deep breath. “Here’s the short version. Everyone wants me to get married. Like yesterday. Aphrodite demanded I marry Eros, but that didn’t work out--”
“Whoa. Wait,” Chara cut in. “The Eros? She wants you to marry her son?”
“The correct word is wanted. Past tense. He pretty much hated me, was a jerk and I kicked him out of my room.”
My sister’s silence confirmed that yes, it did sound as bad as I thought. I forged ahead, determined to get to the part affecting her too. “So, that was her and now she’s pretty ticked and all, which is one thing. But Mom and Dad are still on a rampage, planning a double wedding or something and sending out announcements for both of us.”
Chara dropped my hands in favor of slapping them over her soundless scream. Or maybe she was about to puke too.
When she finally spoke, her words tumbled out fast and reckless as rapids. “That’s imposs--. Are you sure? I was supposed to have another year.”
All I could do was huddle with her as we formed our own pulsing pile of tears, sobs and runny makeup. “I’m so sorry,” I moaned. “I knew she’d want something, but I didn’t know it’d be this. I should’ve asked.”
Chara looked up at me, her gaze telling me I’d slipped up before the accusation even came out. “What do you mean, ‘should’ve asked?’ You knew Aphrodite before today?”
Swallowing hard, I realized Chara had gone from sharing in my agony to looking ready to toss me to the lions. “It’s not what you think.”
Liar, liar.
“She’s just been visiting. Mostly as a bird. Sometimes helping me with the window.” I rubbed at my nose with the back of my hand. “It wasn’t that easy, you know?”
“How long?” she demanded.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Two months. Maybe three.”
“Three months!” Her shriek almost frieghtened me more than Aphrodite. “You’ve been having visits with a goddess for three months? What’d you think was going on? You had to have known.”
“I didn’t. I swear. She just told me it added to her power when beauty was important and that I was helping her. That’s all I knew.”
Chara thrashed off the bed, jerking the covers with her. “Unbelievable.”
“I know,” I pleaded, “help me. What am I going to do?”
“You?” Chara’s look was incredulous. “Help you? I’m supposed to be at least a year out from having to play nursemaid to some ancient king. I like it here, thank you very much. But now what? Now I have to suffer because you were too dumb to see the obvious?”
As I searched for the words that could possibly explain myself, Chara tore out of the room. “I can’t be here right now.”
The door slammed behind her like the crack of an axe.
Chapter 5 - Eros
Eros whipped through the cool night air, still struggling to control his temper. His mother’s audacity had hit a new low.
He couldn’t believe she’d told him to marry a mortal. She knew how he felt about them since --. He couldn’t bring himself to even think her name. That scar had finally healed and he wasn’t about to tear it open again. Especially not over Psyche, a girl who apparently detested him on sight.
What he needed was a distraction. Something to keep his mind from circling back to the arc of attraction he’d felt when he touched Psyche that morning. Or the way just seeing someone as beautiful as her made him want to seal his heart up in a metal box. He wouldn’t let himself be hurt again. Ever.
Trimming his wings, Eros landed just outside a throbbing mass of people. Bacchus’ all-night party would certainly do as a distraction. In the midst of half-naked women who actually wanted him, he figured he’d drink himself stupid. And find someone who’d make him forget Psyche’s green eyes and how much they reminded him of ... her.
Pushing through a crowd of gossiping nymphs, Eros sidled up to Bacchus. As Eros hoped to be by the end of the night, Bacchus was draped in girls. He held a goblet of wine, sloshing its crimson contents to the ground.
“Bacchus, old friend,” Eros said, clapping the beefy immortal on the back, “looks like you started the party without me.”
Bacchus swung his wobbly head toward the voice and worked to squint Eros into focus. “Zou made it...” he slurred. “Have some wine!” Bacchus raised his glass and wine splashed onto the chest of the woman sitting to his right.
While Bacchus made a mess of helping the lady dry her toga, a reveler whisked over and placed a goblet in Eros’s hand. He downed the wine in one long drink.
“Here, let me get that for you.” Eros turned to find a nymph he’d known for years refilling his glass.
“Kalliste!” Eros threw an arm around the nymph. “Good to see you again.”
“You too, Eros.” Her auburn hair sparkling in the torchlight was almost as captivating as her smile.
Eros leaned closer to Kalliste and lowered his voice. “Since when did you become one of Bacchus’s followers? I didn’t think you liked this sort of thing.” He nodded his head in the direction of a group of swirling women.
“A girl has a right to change.” Kalliste brushed her bangs off her forehead. “Probably a lot has changed about me since I saw you last.”
“Do tell,” Eros replied, finishing off his wine and raising his cup for another refill.
“Maybe. First I want to know about Eros. Have you changed any?” Kalliste asked as she poured.
Eros raised an eyebrow. “Me? Why should I change?” He bumped her shoulder with his. “I’m pretty prefect as is, don’t ya think?”
“Mmmm...” Kalliste ran her hand up to his shoulder. “You are a treat for the eyes, but you’re murder on the heart.”
Eros laughed and threw back another gulp of wine. “Me? You don’t know the half of it.” He’d seen murder on the heart, but it wasn’t his doing.
Kalliste narrowed her eyes as she leaned in to hiss in his ear. “You’ve got to stop with the arrows, okay? I know you’ve been laying low for a few weeks, but Zeus sent me to confirm that you’re done. He’s serious this time. No more mortals for him.”
No more mortals for anyone, if Eros had any say in the matter.
“And you need to make things up to Hera,” Kalliste continued. “You’ve been quite the homewrecker.”
Eros let his head fall forward. He wished he weren’t having this conversation tonight. Or ever.
“What does she want?” he groaned.
Kalliste laid her arm over Eros’s shoulder. “Just let some nice goddess make an honest man out of you. You know how she is about family. Settle down, stop sending her husband chasing after mortal girls, and all will be forgiven.”
Talk about a joke. Zeus has been chasing women since long before Eros was born. But what could he say to the little messenger-nymph that wouldn’t make it back to the Olympian rulers? Nothing.
Eros snatched the jug of wine and refilled his glass. “You know, Kalliste? You’re the second person today who’s tried to set me up.”
Kalliste’s lips twisted into a pout. “Oh. Did someone else already talk to you about Iris then?”
Eros about spat out his wine. “Iris? That multi-colored freak show? Gods, that’s almost worse than a mortal.”
Kalliste bumped her knuckles into his shoulder. “Don’t be an ass. It was Hera’s idea.” When Eros didn’t respond, she added, “She’d really like to see you settled down.”
“Yeah, well, so would my mom.” He threw back another gulp of wine. “People are going to have to learn to deal with disappointment.”
Kalliste’s face paled as her gaze locked on something behind Eros.
“What?” he asked, turning.
Aphrodite was so close, he had to stumble back so he didn’t step on her. “Disappointment is a bit of an understatement, don’t you think?”
“Not here,” he said. “I’m not talking about this tonight. With either of you,” he added, glaring back at Kalliste.
Aphrodite’s eyes cut to the nymph as she spun her son in the opposite direction. “You’ll excuse us.”
“I said not now.” Eros jerked his arm loose from her grip and stopped. “I don’t care what you say, I’m not marrying a mortal, okay?”
Aphrodite leveled her intense blue eyes at him. “Okay.”
Um, what? Eros rolled his shoulders and tucked his wings back into place. “So why’re you here?”
“It’s painfully obvious that there’s not much I can do to you for refusing my arrangement. She, on the other hand, is a different story.”
“And you came here to tell me that?”
Aphrodite snatched the goblet from Eros’ hand and threw it to the ground. “No, I came here to tell you to take care of her punishment. She rejects my son? Fine. Make her fall in love with some dispicable and hideous mortal. I don’t care who, frankly. Just make sure he’s as awful to the women in his life as you are.”
***
A doorman peeked into the dining room as Eros was finishing breakfast. “My Lord, Aphrodite sends word that she’s gone to holiday at sea. She said to make sure you do your job quickly so she won’t have to be bothered with the details.”
Eros’s fork clattered onto his plate. He slammed his eyes shut as the noise echoed inside his brain like symbols. Damn. After three days’ worth of festivities, he’d forgotten his mother had made him her do-boy again. What was it she wanted?
His brain felt like pulp. Something about Psyche, he remembered that much. And not having to marry her. That news alone justified his three-day bender. His stomach settled as the memories pushed their way forward.
“Will there be anything else, Sire?”
Eros wiped at his mouth with a napkin. “See that no one comes in. Apparently I have work to do.”
As the man scurried away, Eros took a last gulp of ambrosia and headed for the courtyard. But his mutinous feet didn’t want to make the trip. Psyche’s emerald eyes flashed in his brain -- so full of fire and life. Granted, he wanted nothing to do with her and the inevitable heartbreak she’d bring. But he sort of hated thinking he’d be the one who’d drown out her spark.
When had using his arrows gotten so messed up? He longed for those early, innocent years, when his arrows did only one thing: make people who were supposed to be in love stay that way. Still, what choice did he have? If he didn’t give his mother what she wanted, no telling what retribution she’d plan.
Convincing his body to finally budge, Eros made his way into the courtyard and reclined against a golden bench. He leaned back and focused on an empty patch of wall. The Greek landscape flickered behind his eyes, his second sight honing in.
The spinning visions made him nauseaus. How much wine did I drink? He took deep breaths to keep his breakfast down and tried to think about who he ought to be looking for. Random searching when he felt like a weak-kneed sailor was clearly not in his best interests.
Maybe a Cyclops? No, he’d probably crunch her bones into tiny pieces. As cruel as he knew her beauty could be if he ever got close, death wasn’t a sentence he wanted to impose. And fortunately wasn’t what he’d been tasked with.
How about Argus? Eros bet she couldn’t find a way to break his heart with 100 eyes staring back at her. Not that he really liked the idea of her being perpetually creeped out, but she’d get used to it. Argus wasn’t a bad option really. Not mean, just gross. Aphrodite would probably be satsified with that.
But that option was out too. The eyeball-endowed man was serving as a watchman for Hera. Good call on that one, actually. But that meant he was too close to the gods to be wretched enough for his mother’s purposes.
Groaning, Eros let his head fall back against the bench. He’d use the arrows like he’d been ordered. But didn’t his mother realize that just thinking about her was starting to peel back the wound? Why’d he have to find the target too? Oh yeah, because Aphrodite clearly didn’t want to be bothered with the details. As long as she was on “holiday at sea,” as his doorman had annouced, she wouldn’t be able to use her second sight even if she wanted to.
How convenient for her.
Eros ran his fingers through his tangled hair. Something sticky caught in them and the nauseau resurfaced. He didn’t even want to know. Thank the gods there were no mirrors in the courtyard. He probably looked scraggly enough to be the groom himself.
Now there’s an idea, he thought. Someone who looks (and feels) as bad as he did right now.
He knew exactly what he was looking for then. There’d been a rumor spreading about it during the parties, and sure enough. The uproar projected into his brain, leading his vision easily to the target.
His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the blank wall, not seeing the stone at all. The scene unfurled just as he’d hoped. A mob was chanting. “We must end the drought! Cast the Pharmakos out!” Faces were twisted in angry snarls; the victim was jostled forward on the arms of his captors.
Swallowing back the lump in his throat, he told himself this was the right call. Aphrodite asked for hideous and the Pharmakos qualified. But after delving into the man for a moment, Eros picked up on a few positive traits too. He wasn’t harsh; he didn’t have a sharp tongue; and Eros was pretty sure he’d worship the ground Psyche walked on.
He didn’t know why, maybe just the lingering affection he felt for her, but Eros really didn’t wish Psyche ill. He knew his mother was overreacting, as she’d done a hundred times before. But she always got her way. If he didn’t impose the sentence, Aphrodite would find a way to make it even worse.
For both of them.
Realizing he was out of options, Eros settled on his choice. He could condemn Psyche to life as a vagabond if the person holding her hand would be her partner through it all. Deep down, it’s what his nature drew him to do - make good matches - not call on his talents in revenge.
Here’s hoping the pairing is something everyone could live with.
Chapter 6 - Psyche
For the next few days, there were no birds. No visits from my sister. I was alone with my crowd. Their constant, muted rumble played like the song of my heart. An endless rise and fall with no definition. Like a shape without sides. And though the sound pulsed and writhed to its own rthym, the dullness made it feel unreal.
I wanted it all to be unreal.
The crowd, I snubbed. My sister, I craved. Each day that passed without her made my soul bleed. I could feel the walls building between us. The knocks on her door that went unanswered. How she left a room whenever I walked in.
Some things can be forgiven. But this?
Not that I’d known or meant any of it. Still. Maybe I deserved her impaling hatred. And I wished I could go back in time. Back to when that milk-white bird had first fluttered through my window. I’d tell her everything. Even though Aphrodite made me promise not to breathe a word. I’d tell Chara, and she’d keep my secret, and neither of us would be where we were now.
Those were the dreams of my tears. They gave me Heliosice in the hours between sleep.
Until the knock on my door finally came.
Flinging myself out of bed, I raced for the door, abHeliosutely sure I’d find Chara on the other side. I didn’t dare hope she’d forgiven me, just cooled enough to talk. To hear my side. To help me on a solution for us all.
I couldn’t even stop myself from blooming into a smile, I was so giddy she’d finally come.
The reality of my visitor slammed me like colliding with a slab of marble. My father’s messenger waited, column-strait, when I threw open my door. His eyes were fixed on a spot above my head. No eye contact.
“My Lady, your father sends word that you are to be ready by sundown. The first suitor has arrived. You are not to leave your room until that time.”
As if.
He bowed, averting his eyes, and left with his toga flaring behind him in his flight to escape my presence.
Once I closed my door, I sank into a pile on the floor. It was here. Already.
I’d been thinking through this moment, making sure I was ready to do the right thing for my sister. And the only thing that could possibly save myself.
There’d been so many dead-end thoughts; paths down a Minotaur’s labrinth that had no end. Only one idea seemed even plausible. I’d make sure the first suitor who came married me. My stomach clencthed as I went over my reasoning for the millionth time.
If I was married first, maybe Chara’s bride price would drop. And then it wouldn’t matter when she were married and Mom and Dad could let her wait. Like they’d always planned.
Plus, if Aphrodite really meant what she’d said about learning from her mistakes with Helen, then she’d have to give up the matchmaker role once I had a husband. No more wars over women, right? I’d simply have to stay her hand the only way I could.
In all time I’d spent alone in my room the past few days, I hadn’t come up with a better solution.
So why was pushing myself up off the floor to get ready the hardest movement I’d ever had to make?
***
As the sun began to set, I made my way down the long marble stairs from my room. I’d selected an olive-colored dress that brought out the green of my eyes. Maia had wrapped my hair up in a loose bun and made my skin sing with the heady perfume of sage and lilies.
The admirers had made me painfully aware that I was pretty enough without the added effort, but I asked Maia to really give it her all tonight. If I was going to marry this stranger to save myself and Chara, I needed him to see only me. I suspected my bride price was way higher than my sister’s. Plus, since he arrived so quickly, it meant his City had to be nearby. The selfish part of me loved the idea of not moving too far from home.
I found my parents and sister entertaining our guest in the courtyard. He looked about father’s age, but was far leaner. Although bald, his long, angular face was grounded by richly dark eyebrows and a well-trimmed beard. The effect made him look distinguished, in a harsh, old-person sort of way.
When I crossed the threshold into the courtyard, everyone stopped talking and fixed their eyes on me. Attention being nothing new, I did what was expected of me: I radiated a smile and curtsied.
My father cleared his throat. “Psyche, I’d like you to meet King Andreas of Corinth.”
Lowering my eye lashes, I nodded my head in greating. “It gives me great pleasure to welcome you. Thank you for coming all this way.” Of course, Corinth wasn’t far at all (I’d been right!), but that wasn’t the point. My intent was to charm and flatter him.
He looked me over from head to toe. His gaze passed like a winter chill over my body. After several seconds, he turned back to my father.
“Darion, she’s every bit as lovely as the rumors made her out to be. How much are you asking for her?”
That’s it? That’s as much as he needs to know about me before trying to purchase me for his wife? Andreas hadn’t even bothered to speak to me.
“Sire,” I cut in, stepping between him and Father. “Forgive me for interrupting, but I thought you might like to get to know me first before proposing marriage.”
His calculating eyes bore through me. “There is nothing more I need to know other than the price. Either I can afford you or I cannot.”
I staggered back a step, feeling suddenly queasy and mortified. Embarrassment burned my cheeks like I’d been slapped. My sister had been right to be afraid. This was worse than anything I’d ever imagined. They were discussing my purchase price right in front of me.
My pulse felt like it could stampede its way free from my veins. I’d learned my lesson about shoving important-but-insulting guys, but my blood pressure responded to Andreas with the same hostility I’d felt standing before Eros. Leaving before I did something equally as stupid seemed like a good idea.
“I assume someone will tell me if you win the auction, Sire. Happy bidding.” Giving a quick bow, I turned and fled into the courtyard.
The rush of humid spring air didn’t provide the relief I was looking for. And entering the dark of dusk from the brightly lit foyer made my eyes strain, like the sinking sun was bleeding all the colors from the sky.
As I passed through the gardens, totally absorbed in my own thoughts, my hip collided with a man bent over a bush. He jumped and whipped around to face me as I staggered back a step.
Through the dim light, I noted that the stranger’s face was lean, his teeth just a bit too large, and his hair flopped into his eyes. Between that and the whole nose-in-a-bush thing, he struck me as out-of-place here.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to crash into you like that.”
“Not at all,” he answered. “I was just studying this unusual flower. I’ve never seen another like it.”
“Do you often look at flowers?” I asked, trying not to smirk.
“Actually, yes. I’ve been studying them at Athens.” He brushed the hair from his eyes, revealing invitingly dark brown eyes.
“Oh.” I laughed nervously, suddenly glad I hadn’t assumed he was Andreas’ servant. Servants do not study in Athens.
“I know it’s sort of a strange interest,” he continued, “but I get bored only thinking about war or sports. History never changes and I never get better at sports. Flowers are different though. They’re pure and fragile, like life I guess.”
Was this guy a second suitor? I was pretty sure Father’s servant had only said one suitor was here, but what else could this guy be? He was well-educated, well-rounded and obviously a pretty good catch. Would it be selfish to want him for myself? Maybe letting Chara have him would be a better peace offering.
“Sorry, I have a tendency to ramble. Probably spending too much time studying philosphy. That’s the rage in Athens and all. I’m Rasmus by the way. Rasmus of Mycenae.” He extended his hand and I offered mine.
He was a suitor then -- had to be. Silence hung between us as my brain tied to work through my options. What could I possibly say that would interest him? How would I appeal to him with more than looks? And did I want to appeal to him or should I let Chara have him? Then I realized, I hadn’t even introduced myself. And I was still holding his hand!