Destined (9 page)

“Everything is ready, child,” she told me. “But if I may be so bold as to add one thing.”
 
Maia pulled a golden laurel wreath from behind her back. The crown sparkled even in the dimness of the oil lamps. Each leaf was different, with veins laid in silver, and tiny diamonds resting on some of the leaves like dew. I knew the crown even before she spoke. It was the one my mother had worn when she married my father.
 

“She wants you to wear this tonight.” Without saying another word, Maia expertly wound my upswept curls around the crown. She stepped back to study her handiwork and smiled. “It doesn’t do you justice, but it’ll do just the same.”

I threw my arms around her neck. “You’re too good to me, Maia. What would we do without you?”

“I suppose you’ll learn how to manage if you go running off marrying one of these oafs.” She studied me with as much pride as if I were her own daughter. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, you know?”

The smile she’d encouraged out of me wilted. She was wrong. I’d been a horrible friend to my sister, kept secrets from my family. If anything, I wasn’t being hard enough on myself. The crown suddenly felt too heavy, the leaves poking at my scalp like javelins as I shook my head “no.”

“She’ll never forgive me, Maia.”

She lifted my chin with a crooked finger, leaving me no choice but to meet her eyes. “You’re sisters. Nothing’s more important than family and Chara will realize that soon.”

I pushed at the crown, which felt like it was constricting my head. Thinking hurt my brain; but
feeling
was worse. I couldn’t bear the feeling that my sister would never speak to me again. My mind was spinning through a mantra of “I can’t do this anymore” when Maia squeezed my hand and led me to the door.

“Now get out of here. There’s nothing worse than showing up late for your own party.”

As she shooed me from my room, I saw that our courtyard had been transformed into a glowing celebration. Oil lamps cast their dancing light over the guests. Servants were pouring wine into onyx goblets and some of the suitors were already swaying. The courtyard was full of talk and laughter and life.

After the emptiness of my room, it all felt surreal.
 

When I reached the threshold, Father came to my side and linked elbows with me. What probably looked like a friendly escort to everyone else felt like an iron clamp. “You see how hard your mother worked to prepare your party?” he said in his deepest whisper. It wasn’t a question so much as a threat —
don’t you dare ruin this night for her
.

I nodded and he patted my hand. “Glad we understand each other, then.” He led me to the musicians and ordered them to stop playing.

The abrupt end to the music got everyone’s attention. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” my father said. “I first would like to thank you for making such a long journey to be with us tonight. While you, my friends, are always welcome in my home, I know it’s not me you’ve come to see. I would like you to meet my daughter, and now Aphrodite’s daughter,” (that got a round of knowing chuckles) “Psyche. She’ll come around to meet each of you in person and I’m sure you will find her as engaging as she is beautiful. In the meantime, enjoy your wine and the food will be ready shortly.”

Only because I’d spent months bowing to crowds was I able to function. The unfamiliar eyes on me, so close, so prodding, left me stripped and raw. The feeling of wanting to puke was becoming way too familiar.

But as the music started up again, I plastered a permanent smile on my face and met each of the suitors one by one. As I made my rounds, I tried to add to whatever discussion I happened to join. If the men were talking politics, I added in the latest news from our own Senate. If they were talking war, I analogized their battles to ones I’d read about in my scrolls.
 

There was a balance between acting like a know-it-all and letting them know I could discuss any subject that interested them. Actually, I enjoyed the challenge of finding something insightful or humorous to say about so many different topics. Despite the obvious implications of the evening, it turned out to be a better distraction from my worries than I’d hoped.
 

After I’d chatted with everyone, I knew only one of the men had really caught my attention: a young king, Krios of Tegea. He struck me as good-natured and more interested in me than himself. I lingered when we first met, and after my rounds were done, I returned to him so I could sit beside his couch during dinner.

The banquet may have been in my honor, but women didn’t dine on couches in my home.

Pulling up a soft, leather tripod, I sat as close as I dared, hoping the other suitors would take the hint that I’d made my pick. Of course, the choice wasn’t exactly mine to make.

As we ate, he told me about his city; the lush green mountains, the endless rows of olive trees, the twin rivers that always carried fresh, cool water, and the bountiful harvests that the hard-working farmers produced. The way he described it, I could already imagine myself at home there. I’d never needed a large city to keep me happy. In fact, separation from crowds would probably be a welcome delight. I wasn’t sure his little City was exactly the “alliance” my parents were hoping for, but I was already dreaming of fading back into anonymity.

“It sounds perfect,” I told him.
 

“Ah, Psyche. Perfect is sitting here beside me. But Tegea is a close second.”

I looked down as a warm blush crept up into my cheeks.

“Tell me I haven’t made you blush, Psyche,” Krios teased, leaning closer. “Certainly you’ve received greater compliments than that before.”

“Not from someone whose opinion actually matters.”
 

Now it was Krios’s turn to blush.

The banquet room was full of deafening chatter and the sounds of eating, but all I heard was the silence that hung between us. After a few moments, Krios finally said, “You might as well know this.” I felt my cheeks fall slack as I braced for his attempt at a gentle let down.
Seriously, why was every man I was remotely interested in turning me away?
 

Krios’s eyes panned the crowd. “All of us rode out to meet you and your sister. I had hoped maybe I’d have a chance with Chara, but I never dreamed of marrying the great Psyche.”

“I’m not
the great
Psyche,” I cut in, grabbing Krios’s hand.

“No, Psyche, listen. This is important. You deserve to know this. None of these men, including myself, came here to marry you.” Krios paused to correct himself, his mouth twitching in a slight grimace. “Well, maybe at first we did, but something changed along the way. By the time we reached your palace, we agreed that none of us could take on the obligation of protecting you.”

“Protecting me from what? My father hasn’t had any problem looking out for me,” I said, dropping Krios’s hand.
 

Krios closed his eyes and exhaled. “I simply don’t have the armies, Psyche. I can’t afford a war for you.” He added in an apologetic whisper, “None of us can.”

Although I knew what he was talking about, I couldn’t believe all of Greece was so consumed by fear of another Trojan War.
 

“I’m not Helen!” I stood up and shouted at Krios.
 

Conversation and eating came to a halt as all eyes turned to me. I felt the stares boring into my back as I loomed over Krios, gritting my teeth to keep from spitting out my accusations.

“You don’t even know me, but you assume I’m the sort of person who’d run off with another man. Why? Because I have a pretty face? Because I’m Aphrodite’s new daughter?” I balled my hands into fists to keep them from trembling at my side. “You have misjudged me. I’m as fiercely loyal as any woman you’ll ever meet.”

My father rushed to my side. “Psyche, no one is questioning your loyalty, or even Helen’s. Helen was powerless to resist the will of Aphrodite.”

“She’s a goddess, not a puppet master,” I shrieked, turning my outrage on my father. “I turned down her marriage choice once and I’ll do it again if I have to.”

Father’s teeth audibly crunched when he clamped his jaws back together. Guess I’d forgotten to mention the whole Aphrodite-proposed-on-behalf-of-Eros thing. More damn secrets. I was over it.

Pushing past my father, I stormed to the center of the room. “My sister is gone and you don’t want to marry me, so I assume you’re just here to eat our food. Maybe hear a good story. Well how’s this for gossip? Aphrodite asked me to marry her son, and I said no.” I met each of their silent stares and patted my heart. “Yes, I refused an arrogant, pompus god because I knew, deep down, that one of you would be better. But apparently I was wrong.”
Let that sink in for a minute
. “Can it really be that none of you are brave enough to take on a pretty wife?”

No one answered.

I faltered. The challenge hadn’t worked and my father was bearing down on me now.

“Psyche, that’s enough.” My father spun me away from the men before handing me off to Maia, who’d rushed over as if on cue.

Speaking loud enough so that the entire room could hear, Father told Maia, “Psyche is obviously feeling ill. See that she gets the rest she needs.”

As Maia led me away, I could hear my father apologizing for my outburst and explaining that I was overwhelmed by my sister departing so recently. Under normal circumstances, he promised, I would never be so bold and would be an obedient wife, very respectful, et cetera, et cetera.
 

But I knew he was wasting his words. Krios hadn’t been lying to me. Why would he? He had nothing to gain from a lie. As I slowly climbed the steps to my room, I knew none of these men would be taking me home.

Which is a thought that should’ve brought relief. After all, I didn’t want to be married yet. As I thought back on it, I didn’t even know why I’d challenged those men to marry me. I already recognized it as a stupid burst of pride getting the better of me. So why was I so upset by the whole thing?

As I crossed into my room, it hit me. What if never finding a husband was Aphrodite’s punishment for turning Eros away? I didn’t necessarily want to get married now, I wanted it some day. A princess without a husband is nothing once her parents die. I’d probably have to rely on Chara just to survive. And how likely would she be to help?

Slumping on my bed, I studied my reflection in a hand mirror. Although the room was only lit by oil lamps, I could make out all of my features. I inspected every inch of my face, as if it was to blame for my long string of failures. But there was no flaw in the reflection. The flaw was inside me.

Shrieking in frustration, I threw the mirror into the stone wall at the far side of my room. The mirror shattered into tiny, jagged pieces that spewed across my floor.

Maia scurried to clean up the mess, but Mother stopped her. “You can leave us. She’ll clean it up herself.” I hadn’t even heard Mother come in.

Maia lowered her head and fled the room, muttering apologies to my mother as she went. I turned and glared.
 

“So now I’ve gone from being the second-coming of Aphrodite to a servant girl?”