“Forget?” she quizzed.
“A harmless magic trick. There is a potion that will wipe away certain memories. If you choose not to have me, then you can forget me altogether.”
Psyche hesitated. “What if I choose not to forget you?”
“I’m afraid that would not be an option.”
Psyche knew it would be useless to argue. She decided that she would worry when the time came, but as for now, she was satisfied. Her freedom was within her grasp after all.
Psyche took a deep breath and tried to relax, leaning back onto the softest cushions she had ever felt in her life. Perhaps now, she could finally enjoy the luxuries of her surroundings.
“So, what shall we fill this evening with?” Her voice was more pleasant than it had been all evening.
There was a pause as Psyche waited patiently for his answer. A thought suddenly came to her and she jumped at her naiveté. He couldn’t possibly think—
“Have you heard of a game called chaturanga?”
Relief poured through her. “No,” she responded, regaining her composure quickly. “No, I have not.”
“Hounds and Jackals, chess? Indeed, I don’t think Bromeia has discovered it yet. It is really quite an ingenious game. I truly think you’ll like it.”
A flat, perfectly square piece of marble appeared in front of her, suddenly, lit up as if illuminate from within. Bejeweled pieces were arranged in four rows, two in front of her and two in front of him. Curiously, Psyche touched the board. It was cool to the touch and did not seem magical. She tried to pick the board up, but it did not budge. Carefully, she ran her hand through the bottom. Indeed, nothing was holding it up. It was suspended in the air.
An amused voice came from her companion “Are you finished yet?”
Psyche bit her lip.
“How are you doing this?”
“Is that your question for the night?”
Psyche’s jaw dropped. This was one of his secrets?
“No.” She did not want to waste her question on something so frivolous. “At least tell me what it is.”
“A board, necessary to play the game.”
Psyche took a deep breath. There were so many questions. It was a completely different kind of torture, yet she would prefer it to… other alternatives.
“Very well. How do we play?”
The rest of the evening was spent learning the meaning behind all the pieces. Psyche found herself quite engrossed in the explanation. Her companion was a patient and thorough teacher, demonstrating every piece and its abilities by moving it across the board. It took her a moment to realize that the pieces he moved were moving by themselves. There was no shadowy hand directing them.
“The priest can move across the board diagonally, while the phalanx can curve like a hook.”
In the middle of the explanation, Psyche mused, “So the queen is the most powerful piece?”
“One would argue that all the pieces are powerful in their own way.”
“But in terms of ability and pure range, it is a woman.”
“I would say that the game is a fairly accurate representation of real life.”
Psyche looked up at this and found herself for the hundredth time wishing she could see a face, an expression. “You hold women in quite high esteem then?”
“Don’t you?”
“Of course. But, the King still determines the game.”
“As I said, true to life. It is still a man’s world.”
Psyche pondered this new bit of information, trying to determine who her new “friend” could be. She’d never met a man so frank in his admiration of what others had always called the weaker sex. But then again, he claimed he was not a man.
“Now then, I believe it is getting late and mortals need their sleep. We will begin a game tomorrow night if it pleases you.”
Psyche jumped up, surprised by how quickly the time had passed. The candle was almost down to the wick. “How will I know when to come?”
“Cordelia will summon you.”
Just then, the door opened and a warm voice let her know that Cordelia had arrived. Psyche was about to take her leave when her strange companion said, “You are so eager to leave, you’ve forgotten to ask your question.”
She turned back towards the voice, her face flushed realizing her error. How silly she must have looked after all her bargaining! Yet, there was something about him that daunted her. It was not just the darkness, but the closely guarded strength that radiated from him. He seemed to see right through her. He seemed to anticipate her every move. He made her feel so small and her knowledge, so inadequate. Everything about her surroundings made her feel this way.
There were so many questions she wanted to ask, how was she to choose just one? The servants? Or the flying creatures she saw outside her window. What were they? Yet, only one question at that very moment seemed to dominate the others. Psyche stared at the glowing board and the room that was slowly starting to light up again as her companion moved farther back towards the shadowy corner where she had first seen him. The beauty of the exquisite space took her breath away. He was not a mortal. He seemed civilized, his manners perfect. And he was not without charm. Surely he could have had anyone. None of it made any sense.
“Why me?” Psyche blurted out. She thought she saw the shadow pause. She cleared her throat and tried to ask more elegantly. “Why did you choose me... to come here?”
When he answered, his voice was not as smooth as it had been only a moment before. “Because you were the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.”
“But how—”
“I’m sorry. But that was your one question and a deal is a deal. Good night.”
And suddenly she knew that the shadow in the corner was really just a shadow. Had he disappeared through a hidden door? Or did he really just vanish before her eyes?
“Come, my dear,” Cordelia urged from the bright doorway. “There is a warm pot of water and a soft bed waiting for you in your room.”
Psyche ignored the voice, took a candle, and rushed towards the dark corner. Her suspicions were confirmed. There was nothing there but an empty cubby. There was, however, a thick drape over the wall and when she lifted it, she saw an elaborate door. He did not disappear, then. He used a door like any other creature of flesh and blood.
“Come away from there, now,” Cordelia’s voice was suddenly cross and very near her. “Master will not like you prying about his quarters.”
Reluctantly, Psyche obeyed and walked away.
Despite the warmth and comfort of her bed, Psyche had difficulty sleeping. Her thoughts tormented her as she racked her brain for possibilities as to who her husband could be. She tried to analyze every word, every tone. The warmth of his deep voice, the thoughtfulness, and finally the feeling with which he spoke when he answered her question, filled her with more and more questions.
When she finally did sleep, it was fitful.
Chapter 7
Psyche spent most of the next few days alone. During that time, she discovered from the servants that the master was rarely in the palace when the sun was up. She mused about this, wondering if perhaps, he was a creature of the night who slept alone in a cave somewhere for fear the sun would burn his flesh. There were days when Psyche would work herself up so much that, when evening came and she would be in her husband’s company once more, she was again afraid of what she might find. It wasn’t until she heard his warm, soothing voice that she’d feel at ease again.
They played their first chess game on Psyche’s second night with him. Psyche found herself forgetting that he had purchased these evenings for the cost of a question, so engrossed she was in the pleasure of the game and his company. He had a sharp mind that made it difficult to beat. His graciousness also made it impossible to feel angry when she lost. Psyche always demanded another game as soon as the first was finished. At the end of their evening, noted by the flickering of the dying candle, the creature would remind her about he
r question. Psyche had spent the entire day deciding on a question, and this time, it was about the servants. Why could she not see them?
“I worry that they would be too overwhelming for you. They are not like the servants you are accustomed to.”
“You mean, they are beasts like the ones I saw outside the palace walls?”
“To some extent, yes, but what is a beast except something one is not accustomed to? Actually, you really saw very little outside the walls, but I don’t think you are quite ready to see all the… more interesting possibilities.”
“What if I told you I was?” Psyche lifted her chin slightly.
“On your first day here, I was told that you looked out the window and saw some birds in the air. As they got closer, you fainted.”
Psyche sighed in exasperation. “I was half starved and travelled many miles. I was exhausted. You should not judge me based on that.”
“No doubt you were,” his voice was thick with amusement. “But things are already very different for you here. Things will reveal themselves in time, I promise you.”
“Well, what were those birds, anyhow? They were huge!”
“Perhaps, you can save that question for another day. For now, the candles are dying and it is time for bed.”
When the next day came, another question came to mind that Psyche felt was more pressing than the birds. Convinced he was a vampire, she asked if the sun harmed him in some way, and that was why he did not come out in the day. This question seemed to surprise him, in which he answered only, “Not that I know of.” Psyche felt frustrated that she had wasted her question so foolishly.
The next evening, she sat for several minutes pondering her next chess move. He never rushed her, but once she had placed her piece to her satisfaction, he moved instantly, as if he had already anticipated what she was going to do.
“You are cheating!” she exclaimed. “You can read people’s minds, that is the only way you have beaten me so much this evening.”
“I wish that were so, but I assure you, I wasn’t given the gift of mind-reading.”
“Then how do you know? How come you always know just where to move the pieces to your advantage?”
She heard him shift, as if changing his position, and wished for the hundredth time that she could see his expression. “I play as if I were you, Psyche. A cunning and intelligent woman, but, sometimes, too passionate and eager for a kill. I use my meaty pieces as bait to lure you, and my little pawns to attack.”
“You have me all figured out, then.” As much as she tried, she could not keep the sulkiness from her voice. She did not enjoy losing so many times.
“I have the advantage of reading your eyes.”
Psyche looked up from the board self-consciously. “That is an unfair advantage.”
“You get quite excited when you are planning a devious attack.”
“Then, perhaps, it is only fair that I’m cloaked in darkness as well, so that I could hide from you my intentions.”
“Perhaps,” her companion affirmed. “But then, you would lose one of your greatest advantages.”
“And what is that?”
“Your utterly distracting beauty.”
Psyche felt herself flush, surprised by how pleased she was with the compliment.
“You must have known me even before I came to this palace.”
There was a pause as the shadow across from her contemplated her words. She was surprised how curt his voice was. “What do you mean?”
“You said you chose me because you thought I was… very pretty. So you must have seen me before I came.”
“Is this your question for the night?”
Psyche blinked, trying hopelessly to peer into the mysterious darkness. “No. I was simply trying to make conversation.”
She could almost see him shrug. “Then, it requires no answer.”
Psyche grit her teeth. “I believe you’ve answered enough. I would have remembered someone with so little manners!”
Psyche tensed, unable to take back the words that flew from her mouth. She still did not know this creature, and yet she could not contain her temper.
As he spoke again, his mild voice assured Psyche that he was not easy to offend. “I am always fair with my answers.”
Psyche began to feel emboldened. “To you, you are.”
Another pause, but his voice continued to be even. “We have many, many nights ahead of us.”
Psyche made an impatient sound and crossed her arms. “Exactly how long do you intend to keep me here? How many more nights like this are we supposed to have?”
“Is that your question for the night?”
Psyche had had enough. She stood up. “I cannot have a normal conversation with you. Conversations inherently have questions in them. How are we supposed to be friends when I don’t even know what your intentions are? How can I trust you when you don’t give me answers? I can’t even see you, isn’t that hard enough? All you do is play games with me. And I am not speaking of chaturanga!”
She felt him hesitate. She had done something unexpected again and she knew he was trying to figure her out. To check her. Not tonight. She moved toward the door.
“No, please. Please, do not leave.”
“Why not? Why do you even care? What do you want from me?” she was fuming now, and she doubted that anything he could say would keep her.
When he did not answer, Psyche moved to leave again.
“I am...” he called out when she was practically at the hall. “I am alone here. I need a friend.”
“Why me?”
“I’ve watched you from afar. I thought we would be a good match. You needed protection and I needed... company.”
“Protection? I was fine where I was.”
“That is what you do not know. You displeased a very powerful being, a goddess of great strength and influence. She sent forces to destroy you. I found you and took you here before she could get her hands on you. She does not know you are here. When you fell from the cliff, you had convinced the goddess that you had killed yourself. She will no longer be looking for you. So you must stay here where it is safe, at least until she has forgotten about you.”
Psyche leaned against the cold wall, barely able to hold herself up. “Aphrodite. It was she I had offended.”
“Not you. You offended no one. But your family and the villagers did, for boasting of your beauty in a way that she deemed sacrilegious.”
“Then why punish me? I never encouraged it.”
“I can’t answer that. Not because I don’t want to, but because I know not know the inner workings of that goddess’s mind. Perhaps she was jealous of you. I don’t know.”
Psyche straightened, but she felt no less exhausted. “Thank you for explaining,” she murmured dully, the life drained out of her. Perhaps, that was why he kept so much from her. Perhaps she really couldn’t handle hearing all of it at once. “I’m sorry, I have a headache. I must go to bed now.”
The next day, Psyche did not leave her room, pleading an ill stomach. Food was sent to her that she did not touch.
Psyche stared up at the beautifully painted ceilings, unable to see the soothing colors. Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, hated her. Psyche had unknowingly made an enemy of a powerful deity.
Psyche found herself remembering, with mortification, the compliments and prostrations the villagers gave her. She thought of her mother’s grandiose speeches, the jewelry that always weighed Psyche down and made her feel like an overdressed idol. Then, she thought of Lucius, the pious horse trader, standing stoic as the priest and his men insulted her. Like many of Bromeia’s villagers, she thought Lucius superstitious and overzealous. Now, she wondered if she had been the fool all along. Neither she nor her wise father ever thought the gods would bother themselves with their tiny village. For there were so many prayers unanswered, and so much blasphemy disregarded, it was hard to believe anyone was listening. But the gods were. Every word, every curse, could
have been witnessed.
Psyche shuddered. She felt as if her world had completely collapsed. It was one thing to have faith in her religion; it was a completely different sensation to see proof of it. She was living in a world closer to the one crafted in fantastical ballads. She felt lost. She felt small and helpless. It was hard to think of her future.
By the end of the day, Psyche’s growling stomach stirred her from her state of fear. Psyche pushed herself out of bed. She needed to get food inside her. She needed to gain her strength. This was a new world and she needed to understand its rules. Hiding in this palace was not going to help her accomplish this. Psyche feared wasting away more than she feared death.
The porridge had gone cold, but Psyche ate it any way. She fell asleep with a determined wrinkle on her brow.
The following day, Psyche told Cordelia that she wished to venture out again, not to run away, but to explore.
“Mistress, I don’t think that is a good idea. There are dangers out there! You cannot—”
“I could use a little danger. But don’t fear. I will bring one of the male servants with me if you can spare him. Besides, if my new husband is so all-powerful, I’m sure he could rescue me at any time.”
“I will send a messenger to Master and let him know your intentions. Perhaps tomorrow—”
“You may send the messenger if you like, but I will be on my way by then and will return before he gets back for the evening. I would like a bow and some arrows, unless you wish for me to leave unarmed, for I will do so if I have to.”
“N-no, Mistress.... Oh, dear!”
Psyche dipped back in the pool. She did not like being forceful to gentle Cordelia, but she also knew she needed to clear her head. She needed to understand this new world she now lived in. She needed to see where she fit and if she could ever truly call this land “home.”
When Psyche went to change her clothes, she saw that a beautiful bow and a set of finely crafted arrows had been left by her bed in her room. Armed and ready for an adventure, Psyche stepped out to the garden. There was no mention of a servant coming with her, so she supposed she would have to go alone. It was then that she heard a voice behind her. She didn’t bother to look because she knew there would be no one there.
Scorched Page 6