Psyche

Chapter 8

A few hours later, Aphrodite lounged in her bedroom watching Psyche's birthday celebrations with intense interest. She watched as the young girl walked through the grand receiving room of her father's palace, which had a towering ceiling and gleaming marble floors and walls. The crowd made noises of pleasure and admiration as she walked past, some of the strewing flowers before Psyche.

Aphrodite rolled her eyes. The girl showed no interest in any of this attention. She barely reacted, and Aphrodite could barely stand it. She had, out of her own generosity of spirit, decided not to turn the girl into a medusa, and the girl didn't even appreciate her own beauty.

The crowds, on the other hand, appeared absolutely devoted to her. Aphrodite brushed her hair and glared as entourages from various towns and cities across Atlantis, as well as quite a few foreign groups, paid homage to the girl. Granted, this was not romantic love. Psyche's strange personality prevented any man from taking a romantic interest in her, but all the attention still irked Aphrodite.

Then, she saw something that more than irked her. She pulled the brush so hard that it caused her eyes to water. In the grand hall, an entourage of her own priests and priestess was kneeling before Psyche and paying homage to her.

Aphrodite threw the brush against the magic mirror, shattering it. She would fix it with her own magic later, but the gesture felt good.

"This won't do," she said softly, although a plan was forming in her head.

She closed her eyes and whispered a mantra that would summon her son. Within moments, Eros appeared in the window.

"You could have come through the front door, my son," said Aphrodite.

Eros hopped off the window sill into her room, his wings spreading out behind him. He rarely used his winged form, but it was good for intimidation.  "It's more fun to go through windows, Mother."

He approached her and kissed her on the cheek.

"I have a favor," she said sweetly. "I wish for Psyche, Princess of Atlantis, to fall in love with and marry the most hideous monster I can find."

Eros sighed deeply, and he shook his head slightly. "Mother, haven't you done enough to that poor girl?"

She glared at him. "You will do it," she said softly.

He didn't appear pleased, but he nodded. She smiled and hugged him. He was a good son, after all. 

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Psyche spent the parts of her seventeenth birthday when she wasn't required to be present for some kind of event or reception, hiding in her brother's observatory. There were dozens and dozens of visitors who had come to pay her court, although none had proposed to her. While this did not bother her at all, it bothered her mother a great deal. So much, that the Queen had ordered her to pretend to be mute when meeting the courtiers in the hope that one of them would propose marriage.

"They are far more likely to want a mute with your beauty than a girl who thinks she holds her own in a discussion of Plato," her mother had spat, as she braided Psyche's hair for the feast. Psyche could only remember one or two times when her own mother had braided her hair, and it was always times where the queen wanted to lecture her daughter.

"I don't think I can hold my own in such a discussion," spat Psyche. "I know I can. There's a difference. And by the way, the Earth is round."

The queen pulled her hair, deliberately causing pain. "Right," she replied, "You can tell from the masts of the ships approaching the harbor. Although, I don't see why that's relevant. Either way, if you sail too far you'll be eaten by sea monsters. Oh, but little miss intellectual doesn't believe in monsters."