If I Had Words

Unbeknownst to the kingdom, it appeared that the competition among the sisters had grown to greater heights.  Much more dangerous heights.  Like, really dangerous.

Psyche is too busy to help with her sister’s upcoming wedding. But she does sit down with a villager who has lost everything.

The sisters get ready for Aglaura’s big day.

The wedding of the century came and went. The bride and groom moved to their new home and got into the natural rhythm of all married couples:  Perfection and utter bliss. Or so said Aglaura.  The remaining sisters were left to occupy themselves until it was their turn. For what else were maidens to do, but wait to get married? “I’m so bored!” Cydippe said, flopping down onto Psyche’s bed.

Psyche sighed as she approached the village square. It had been nice having Cydippe join her for a visit to the school. The children had done well with their poems. At the sight of Psyche, several visitors rushed towards her.

In the days that followed the sisters’ excursion, the king and queen determined that it was time for Cydippe to focus on selecting a suitor of her own.  Cydipee had to admit it had been nice to accompany Psyche in some of her work. It wasn’t nearly as boring as she had thought it would be.

Lord Whats-his-name was delighted to have won the Suitor Games — finally. He had been worried somewhere in the middle there. But things had gone well, he’d made it through, and now Cydippe would be his.  Cydippe seemed rather pleased with him too.

Psyche took in a deep breath.  She looked at Aglaura who was sitting to the right of a balding noble, the current frontrunner in her options.  Cydippe sat to his left.  They were getting desperate and were determined to guide her through every step of conversation and decorum. Clearly if left alone, Psyche would make a mess of things.

Psyche sat in one of the music rooms with the lyricist. The vocal trainer would be coming shortly to help her practice through the notes. The composer was nearby plucking out a fine melody.

Psyche entered the house and a hush fell. They tried to make space for her, but there wasn’t much. Someone had brought a wide board to extend the space on the kitchen table at the room’s center.  Psyche looked at the table and her heart stopped.

Psyche performs her song for the festival. Chapter includes original song.

Time for Psyche to talk to the pompous, stuffed-up oracle of Apollo in the hopes of finding out the will of the Gods.

“Are you still sleeping??” Aglaura scolded.  “Quick! We haven’t much time to make you presentable,” Cydippe said, close behind Aglaura and followed by the usual army of attendants. Psyche sat up. “At last, the time has come!” Aglaura gushed. “The oracle will be declaring the will of the gods.” The oracle had received an answer.

Everyone was quiet as the sisters and attendants worked in the dressing room. This was not what Psyche had imagined for herself those years ago when Aglaura wed.  Aglaura had put aside her haughty self-righteousness and gravely helped Psyche into her dress as Cydippe solemnly fastened it together. They wanted to help her themselves.

Time for Psyche to meet her husband, the monster.

It had been a rough night. Psyche had been unable to sleep for most of it. She imagined her new husband and all of the possible horrors he had planned for her. Fear and panic took turns until she finally, utterly exhausted, fell asleep.  As the sun rose the next morning, Psyche found herself bound up somehow.

Psyche woke the next morning to a soft and comfortable bed. It reminded her of home and as she stretched she imagined herself there. She opened her eyes and was surprised to find that she was, in fact, in a palace much like the one of her childhood.

“What happened to the house?” he said. “This morning you allowed it to be a palace. I thought it looked quite nice.” “It didn’t suit me,” she said.

The cottage was a bit nicer the next morning. It added some flower designs on the walls and a prettier bouquet for the table.  Everything felt cheery, even if it was simple.

Psyche woke the next morning, blinking at the rising sun.  She sat up and instinctively gasped. Before her was a vast and beautiful landscape. Everything that Gaia had to offer was on display all at once.

Psyche shifted her waking hours to night so that she and her husband could spend more time together.  He didn’t mind listening to her stories of the villagers. He seemed quite familiar with most of them anyway.

Psyche found herself pacing, impatient for the sun to set. Her husband had been bringing her news from the village the last few nights.

Psyche had been waiting several days as her husband went to check on her sisters. She wasn’t sure when he would return and as the days passed, she found herself feeling more and more idle and aimless. The palace changed each morning, reflecting how she felt. 

Psyche could barely contain her excitement.  She paced the hallway between her sisters’ rooms, trying to decide what to do next.

The morning passed by somewhat less pleasantly than Psyche had hoped. Still, Psyche had managed to push aside her tangled feelings after listening to what her sisters really thought about her and her exile.

Psyche lay awake in the darkness, struggling to sleep.

The next few days passed and the sisters began to really enjoy their time together. There were still a few tense moments as more feelings were expressed and some old habits were hard to break.

Her sisters would be gone in the morning. It was a tearful goodbye as they went to sleep that night.

“How did you enjoy your sisters’ visit?” he asked. Psyche gave a start. He was back!

Psyche lay awake, listening to her husband breathe.  Tonight she would light the lamp.

Aphrodite loved her work.  She found absolute pleasure in bringing love and beauty into the world. It had been so dull and boring before she’d arrived.  Well, maybe not completely dull. Gaia, the great Mother, had created many beautiful things.

Eros couldn’t ignore the two forest nymphs arguing any longer.  It had been such a peaceful morning.

Eros set out to find this Psyche who had been foolish enough to invoke the wrath of the Goddess. 

Aglaura’s wedding was spectacular by mortal standards. Plenty of gold and splendor to blind the weaker eyes. And they’d picked his mother’s temple to perform the ceremony. His mother would be pleased by that. 

“Mother,” Eros said, appearing beside Aphrodite at the top of her temple. “Isn’t this a splendid night?” she said. Aphrodite looked glorious in the starlight.

Now that Eros had bought himself some time, he found himself relaxing a little. He played around with different characters as he mingled among the villagers. Just as often, though, he found himself assuming invisibility and simply watching Psyche. She was still proving to be a perplexing case. 

Cydippe’s silly “Suitor Games” were in full swing, and Eros was still struggling to find a fittingly vile suitor for Psyche. 

The days dragged on as the kingdom scrambled to find a husband for Psyche. Eros did his best to put off sealing Psyche’s fate, trying to figure out some other way. 

Eros watched as the kingdom transformed in preparation for the Festival of Psyche.  Whose idea was that anyway??

Eros itched in his billowy robes. And his flabby skin.  Playing the part of Apollo’s oracle was probably Eros’s worst idea yet.

“Mother!” Eros said, appearing before her and startling her a little. “Prepare the bride.” Aphrodite frowned.  “You’ve found someone?” she said, somewhat suspicious.

Eros watched as Psyche’s procession made its way to the top of the hill. It had all the look of a funeral march. Even the bride was so shrouded in layers, she gave the appearance of a ghost. 

Morning came and Eros could tell right away that things were not going well.  Psyche lay sleeping inside a cave.

Eros was pleased to find that Psyche’s corner of their home had turned into a beautiful palace.  The fact she was getting it, that she had made progress, made him so happy.

“Psyche,” he said. “What are you doing out here?” He was surprised to find her asleep, wrapped in a towel, in the garden.

Psyche had been true to her word. She had let Eros take charge of their home and she had accepted it. 

Eros thought he knew what love was, but he didn’t.  He hadn’t.  Never had he even a hint of an understanding of love, of passion, before Psyche.

Eros had been going to the village and returning to give Psyche all the news. It was fun. The normal ebbs and flows of the mortal realm were far more exciting when seen through her lens. She loved and appreciated everything. 

Eros was so glad to be heading back to Psyche.  It had been agony watching Psyche’s sisters constantly make a mess of everything.

“Eros, haven’t seen you in a while. What have you been up to?” Urgh, it was Apollo, God of Pomp and Puffery.  And he was still wearing those leaves in his hair.

“How did you enjoy your sisters’ visit?” he asked. She stood up to greet him and he gave her a kiss.  “It was wonderful,” she said. “Thank you. Thank you again for bringing them to visit me.” Something felt off.

Psyche gasped as Eros’s eyes flew open.  Something had burned his hand. He looked at it and noticed a mark.  But there was something else too.  Light.

“Psyche??” her mother said.  An attendant had led Psyche into their family’s private sitting room while the king and queen were alerted of their daughter’s return. Her mother had been the first to reach the room.

Eros entered the grounds of his mother’s palace, wondering what she would do once she found out Psyche was back mingling among the mortals. 

Psyche woke to someone drawing open the curtains, letting sunlight stream in. She blinked blurrily, adjusting to the light. “Princess Psyche, welcome home,” someone said.

“I still can’t believe you married a god!” her father exclaimed as he regally settled into his chair. They had already performed the necessary formalities of greeting each other.  “Oh, Psyche, dear,” her mother said. “I am so sorry this happened to you. We’ve sent for your sisters to come as soon as they can.”

Psyche and Iris walked towards Chloe’s house. Psyche started to feel nervous. Maybe Chloe had changed along with her house, matching the splendor with an intimidating air. It had been so long. Would Psyche even know her?

Eros was visible again and was leaning against a tree in his mother’s garden. It had been several days and he should have left the party, like some of the other guests. But, he wasn’t sure where to go. He would usually have gone back to his own home, but the thought of returning felt different now that Psyche was gone. 

The sisters had arrived and were waiting for Psyche in the family sitting room. Psyche had received word and had rushed back to the palace from her work in the village.

The three sisters made their way to Aphrodite’s temple in a regal line of chariots.  Psyche’s sisters had stared at her in bewilderment when she suggested they walk.  Of course they couldn’t just walk! Not in this heat. They couldn’t arrive at the temple red-faced and sweaty.

It was time to be rid of this mortal, Aphrodite thought. Psyche had been such a thorn in her side.

Psyche shivered against the morning air.  It was not yet dawn.

Aphrodite knew the moment Psyche arrived.  She could feel the shift in energy as the mortal’s imperfect, dying frame entered her realm.

“Well, Psyche is off,” Eros said. “Any chance we can cancel this whole thing? Swoop in and save her?” 

Psyche was bent over a pile of wheat, patiently picking out barley which had sprayed from a nearby bin. She had already set several of the bins upright and had scooped up multiple handfuls of grain where there had been minimal mixing. 

“Mother is tipping over all of the grain,” Deimos said, surprised.  “Mother and her grain,” Phobos said. “She acts like it’s the most precious thing on earth.”

“Impossible!”  Psyche woke up to the sound of Aphrodite’s voice in the doorway. Apollo was just starting to pull the sun into the sky. Psyche got up.

The chariot landed lightly in a clearing beside a fast moving river. Psyche stood up, having eaten enough of the bread she’d found in the basket. 

“We can’t find Psyche,” Phobos and Deimos said, coming back from a lengthy search.

“Mother!” Eros said, striding into Aphrodite’s dining hall. “You must put a stop to this.” Aphrodite briefly paused before popping a grape into her mouth. “Why?” she said between chews.

Psyche was happy to see her little wooden chariot as the sun rose the next morning.  “You are a welcome sight,” Psyche said brightly.

“What can I do, Harmonia?? I can’t just leave Psyche to face the Underworld alone. Mother has no right to send her there,” Eros said.

Psyche stepped out of the chariot, looking at a huge crack in the ground.  This was the entrance to the Underworld??

She didn’t know how long she descended, but at last the path opened into a vast landscape.  Psyche stood, taking it all in.

The doors opened into the receiving hall of the kingdom of the Underworld.  Psyche stood for a moment, unsure how to proceed. You are most welcome.  There was no one there that she could see, but she felt a rush of peace and safety.

Psyche let out a sigh of relief.  She had done it! She had completed the third task! Well, almost.

“It’s been long enough, Mother,” Eros said, entering his mother’s sitting room. “Where is Psyche?”  Aphrodite shrugged. “She must need more time,” Aphrodite said casually. “Who am I to speed up the process? And anyway, she’s in Hades’s hands now. It’s his realm and there’s nothing I can do.”

Psyche was finally free.  She looked down at her body. She felt sorry for it. It had worked so hard, tried so hard to prove herself.  There was no need anymore.

“Zeus, I demand the restoration of this woman’s life,” Eros began. “She is my wife and she has been wrongfully taken from me.” Zeus looked at Psyche’s body. “But that is a mortal,” Zeus said, surprised.

“Immortality?” Eros said in disbelief.  Attendants had brought in a couch for Psyche. Eros, Harmonia, and Athena found a quiet corner in the council room where they could watch Psyche and plan.

“Gods and Goddesses,” Athena began, “I have called you all here to ascertain the proper judgment of this mortal.” Athena indicated Psyche’s body lying on the couch, now in the center of the room.  Groans were heard among the gods. “Have you really assembled us here to discuss the fate of a mortal?” Apollo said, standing. “I have better things to do, Athena.”

The Council sat momentarily silent.  They looked from the beautiful and powerful Aphrodite to the corpse of Psyche lying on the couch.  It seemed that Aphrodite was right. Psyche was weak. She belonged in the Underworld with the rest of the departed mortals.

There was clear surprise among the gods as Hades’s voice still echoed in the chamber. Hades never — well, almost never — allowed morals a reunion with their bodies once their spirits had entered his realm.  Yet in this rare case, Hades had said yes.

“How can you be sure you’ll find her out here?” Hades asked. Persephone and Hades were standing on the Plains.

Eros’s heart leapt at the sight of Psyche. She was even more beautiful as a spirit. He watched as Psyche approached her body. She hesitated, drawing back slightly into Hades.

Eros stood by anxiously watching Panacea work. Psyche’s color was back and the pained look on her face had finally relaxed. He noticed his own body relaxing as Psyche improved.

“Let’s begin,” Zeus said, signaling to the rest of the gods to take their seats.  His brothers Hades and Poseidon had joined him again at the head of the room. Everyone seemed to have returned and gradually the side conversations died down.

Demeter had been watching the trial carefully. She’d almost gotten up and left when she’d found out the meeting was over some mortal. Eros’s wife? Even better. Leave her in the Underworld. He deserved to lose what he loved. 

Hades hated meetings.  Nothing important ever happened. They had their regular, boring gatherings to make reports and keep records. He would have preferred to skip those, and he often did, but he never missed the ones when Persephone came to join him.

Psyche’s breath caught as a scene stretched out before her. Aphrodite had touched a delicate finger to her forehead, pulling them both into a shared vision. 

“She’s choking!” Eros cried, as he watched Aphrodite and Psyche standing suspended in some shared vision.

“Gods and Goddesses! I demand that Psyche be taken back to the Underworld,” Aphrodite cried. “She is an imposter!”

Psyche stood dripping water on the marble floor as she quickly wrapped a cloth around her.  A bath had never felt so refreshing in her entire life.

Zeus stood watching as attendants and gods got things ready for the ceremony. Hera was especially busy, ensuring things were properly placed.

(Final Chapter) In A Kingdom Not Far From Here, the people were preparing for the most glamorous, the most dazzling of all celebrations. The king and queen’s third daughter was finally reunited with her husband, the God of Desire.