HYACINTHUS

Chapter Nine

MY FATHER TOOK US hunting in the forest bordering the Eurotas river.
We rode a herd of beautiful white horses, with shining manes and deep gray eyes, said to have come from the distant lands of Troy.

The horse assigned to me didn't even need my directing; it was incredibly intelligent, and I could feel myself relax completely in the saddle, almost lulled to sleep by the repetitive sounds of hooves trotting on the earth hardened by the Sun.

The fresh smell of pine leaves floated in the air, and through my half-closed eyes, I watched trees pass me by, tall and majestic, their green crowns keeping me in a cool shade.

Somewhere behind me, the horses ridden by Harpalus and Hegesandre sighed and neighed in pain. Although still early adolescents, the twins were now nearing the size of elephants. Father couldn't bear their incessant crying for more food; he had assigned them personal servants, who were always ready to bring out full-course dishes whenever they requested it.

The twins were particularly fond of sweets, and those boulders of sugar they inhaled quickly became boulders of fat. And the horses nearly passed out under such extreme weight on their backs.

In front of me, Argalus and Cynortas had whipped their poor horses into a frantic gallop, quickly disappearing out of my field of view, leaving a cloud of earthy dirt and dust behind.

My father's riding was a bit more reasonable, and we were nearly side by side. He looked at me and smiled.

I had long remarked that, the stronger I got, the closer my father was to me. He seemed to cease considering me as a weak, girly boy, approving of my figure that became manlier with every day.

Of course, I still retained my divinely-gifted beauty, but it was now of an angular and imposing sort, not the soft and delicate kind it was when I was a toddler. My jaw was now sharp and defined, my nose high-bridged, my eyes piercing and elongated. My hands were wider and lightly veined; I gripped the reins with ease and poise.

First, we rode in silence, the only sounds being the occasional branch breaking beneath the ironed hooves and the birds delightfully chirping in the crowns on the pine trees above us.

Then, he spoke, and just by how strained his voice was, I realized he was thinking about how he wanted to phrase that uncomfortable sentence all the way we rode until there.

"I have found a suitable match for you, son."

I froze, tightening the reins unwillingly, and my horse seemed to feel it, neighing agitatedly.

My voice came out odd and croaky due to the knot that had formed in my throat.

"W-who is she?"

My father raised a thick dark brow at me. He immediately noticed I wasn't very excited.

"The daughter of King Minos, the princess of Crete", he said. "Her name is Ariadne... such a beautiful name, isn't it?"

Her name? It was a woman's name. Up until then, I had never loved a woman. Or a man. Or someone in between. I had no idea if I was capable of loving anyone, ever.

That poor girl would surely have her heart broken if she married me.

I was sure she would be very unhappy with me. She wouldn't get the love she deserved. She would miss the chance of being truly, passionately loved, she would forever be deprived of the great romance story every girl should get. At most, I could appreciate her like a sister.

"Is her face beautiful, too?", I asked, my mind in a flurry of thoughts.

To be honest, I wouldn't have cared if the answer was no, even is she was crippled or disfigured or so unsightly that people couldn't even look at her. It just sounded like a question any reasonable man would ask, when he discussed with his father his future marriage prospect.