HYACINTHUS

Chapter Four

I HAD BEEN FILTHY for so long that I had forgotten what it was like to be properly clean.

Despite my complains, Daphne had dragged me out of my room, into the royal bathroom reserved for the King's children. In her presence, the frightening corridor didn't spike such fear in me. I found my aversion to going out even laughable.

None of the servants in the hallways even batted an eye at my torn robe and messy looks. They were preoccupied with their own duties: rolling carts full of fresh robes and dresses for their masters, scrubbing the floors clean, polishing the statues, dusting the vases...

Thankfully, the bathroom was empty. Daphne approached basins filled with water and heated them. When steam began to rise from it, she poured the water into the tub and added a few sprinklings of herbs from the shelf.

"Now, you can go in."

With great difficulty, I began unclothing. My arms were so weak I couldn't even lift them above my head to pull up my robe. She had to help me get it off, and also held my hand as I stepped into the white marble of the tub, so I wouldn't lose my balance and fall.

Although I was naked, I didn't feel uneasy. Unlike my other siblings, Daphne never mocked me for my narrow, willowy build.

By the way her eyebrows were kneaded, I saw that she worried for my health; my already slim body was now emaciated from lack of food and exercise.
My ribs protruded sharply through the tissue of my stomach, my skin was covered in light fuzz, my feet and hands seemed huge compared to my scrawny limbs.

My beauty was diminished, starved just like me. The gift of gods had been rotting in silence for so long that it would be quite hard to restore its first splendor.

We both soon realized I wouldn't be able to wash myself completely. I could only clean the front of my body, because twisting my arm felt extremely painful to me.

Daphne scrubbed my hair, neck and back clean, using vigorous movements, and I felt the sharp edges of the brand new olive-oil soap poke through my skin.

Yet, the process of bathing felt amazing; finally, someone was giving me the care I needed. I was incredibly thankful for that.

While I dried myself with a piece of scruffy white cloth, Daphne went to retrieve my mourning robes. She had stayed so long I began to worry she wouldn't return.

But she hadn't forgotten me. After a while, she came back, smiling triumphantly.

The robe was black and plain, except for the golden clasp on one shoulder. It was quite large for my current, skinny body, but it was the best she could find, she claimed.

I shrugged my shoulders and let her slip the robe over my head.

Mother is dead anyway, I thought. She won't see me wearing this.

I wondered if, no matter whether she was in Asphodel or Tartarus (she certainly didn't belong in Paradise, that's for sure), she was proud of herself. Glad that she locked her favorite son away from the sun and the wind, glad that he became a hull of who he used to be.

"What will you wear?" I asked.

Daphne frowned, confused, and looked down at her rough linen peplos.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to wear that to the ceremony?"

I tried my best not to offend her attire, yet I couldn't help but ask. It was by no means suitable for a funeral.

She laughed, but there was no mirth there; a throaty chuckle, like the croak of a raven.

"I'm not invited," she said. "I'm just your father's bastard daughter."

She spat out his name like a curse.

Sometimes, I wondered if she regretted being born. It would be a much happier fate, forever asleep in the warm womb of Chaos. Even I, who had the title of a prince, bitterly regretted being condemned to existence on Earth.

The gods can be incredibly cruel.

I nodded silently, although some inner turmoil plagued me. Knowing that she is by my side would help me face my brethren. Now, I was left to my own devices, having to show my face to the palace's inhabitants again.

Why did I decide to go to the ceremony?

Because if you don't go, you'll forever be condemned to a meaningless existence in your room.
No sun, no wind, no nature.
Shielded from the gaze of others, devoid of their attention.

The voice in my head echoed through the whole skull, sounding like a reprimanding choir.

If others aren't aware of you, do you even exist?

It was a good question. I thought of the solution while I walked the long line of corridors from the bathroom to the nearest exit that led outside.

My conscious mind found no answer.