Psyche

Chapter 10

Psyche woke up the next morning, knowing she had had a most peculiar and interesting dream. In the space between sleep and wakefulness, she meditated so she would remember the details, which included a monster in the corner of her room and an exceptionally handsome young man in her bed.

Clearly, she thought, I am in need of a husband. There was no other explanation for such a dream. She assumed the monster represented her anxiety and the young man her hopes. Dreams, she believed, were symbolic and gave the dreamer insight into their lives. She had read several texts that asserted this.

The young man had scratched his hand and she had applied astringent. That was all she remembered, apart from the fact that the young man had the most striking blue eyes. She had only seen such eyes on Norsemen, and they were all light-haired. This young man had hair so black it was the color of ink. He also had an athlete's body, something she remembered with a blush.

Perhaps I am not as cold as Eugenia says, she thought, making a mental note to search the palace library for books on dream interpretation that very day. She wanted to confirm her theory. 

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Eros has stumbled along a road, heading on foot toward the Atlantan capital city. He didn't know precisely why he headed there, or why he had suddenly decided to make himself appear mortal and walk on foot instead of flying. He just kept putting one foot in front of the other, forcefully.

It had to be forcefully, because if he didn't do it forcefully, he would simply turn around and run back to the palace. He would use all his power as a god to get through the palace guards, find Princess Psyche, wherever she was, and drop to his knees before her and declare his love. He wanted to shoot her with one of his arrows, so she would love him as much as he loved her.

In all his years as a god, in all the many eons during which he had facilitated couples falling in love, he - Eros - had never, ever come close to falling in love himself. This turn of events had the potential to be the worst, most profound disaster of his career. Worse than the whole Oedipus disaster.

He reached up to run his hands through his mane of black hair, only to find an Atlantean cap atop his head.

He had forgotten that the disguise he had taken on included local dress. This was part of his habit, as he often needed to blend in with the locals in order to find the right matches.

But this morning, as the sun rose above the Atlantean mountains, his mind was not on work. It was on the fascinating, kind and intelligent princess.

Eros knew how it worked. It was his job to know. His arrows did not create love. They created infatuation and sexual attraction, but if the two parties were well-matched, the infatuation and affection would blossom into deep and true love.

The Princess Psyche wasn't only beautiful and bright and kind. She was brave. She hadn't shown fear when she had seen him in her bedroom. She hadn't even shown fear of the monster.

He had done a bit of research about her prior to his visit as well. She was reportedly kind and compassionate, though eccentric and aloof. She apparently - and this was truly adorable - did math problems and puzzles to entertain herself.

He giggled. Math problems. He had met and/or observed many princesses over the centuries, and Psyche was the first he'd met that thought math problems were entertaining. She wasn't just beautiful, compassionate and kind...she was a little weird.

That thought made his heart beat faster.

He had a plan. It was a good plan. He was going to run to his mother's house and enlist the help of Hermes. He would have Hermes chain him into his mother's dungeon for a period of three months, enough time for the feelings created by the accidental arrow scratch to fade.