Women of Greek Mythology

“What happened to the house?” he said. “This morning you allowed it to be a palace. I thought it looked quite nice.” “It didn’t suit me,” she said.

Psyche woke the next morning to a soft and comfortable bed. It reminded her of home and as she stretched she imagined herself there. She opened her eyes and was surprised to find that she was, in fact, in a palace much like the one of her childhood.

It had been a rough night. Psyche had been unable to sleep for most of it. She imagined her new husband and all of the possible horrors he had planned for her. Fear and panic took turns until she finally, utterly exhausted, fell asleep.  As the sun rose the next morning, Psyche found herself bound up somehow.

Time for Psyche to meet her husband, the monster.

Everyone was quiet as the sisters and attendants worked in the dressing room. This was not what Psyche had imagined for herself those years ago when Aglaura wed.  Aglaura had put aside her haughty self-righteousness and gravely helped Psyche into her dress as Cydippe solemnly fastened it together. They wanted to help her themselves.

“Are you still sleeping??” Aglaura scolded.  “Quick! We haven’t much time to make you presentable,” Cydippe said, close behind Aglaura and followed by the usual army of attendants. Psyche sat up. “At last, the time has come!” Aglaura gushed. “The oracle will be declaring the will of the gods.” The oracle had received an answer.

Time for Psyche to talk to the pompous, stuffed-up oracle of Apollo in the hopes of finding out the will of the Gods.

Psyche performs her song for the festival. Chapter includes original song.

Psyche entered the house and a hush fell. They tried to make space for her, but there wasn’t much. Someone had brought a wide board to extend the space on the kitchen table at the room's center.  Psyche looked at the table and her heart stopped.

Psyche sat in one of the music rooms with the lyricist. The vocal trainer would be coming shortly to help her practice through the notes. The composer was nearby plucking out a fine melody.

Psyche took in a deep breath.  She looked at Aglaura who was sitting to the right of a balding noble, the current frontrunner in her options.  Cydippe sat to his left.  They were getting desperate and were determined to guide her through every step of conversation and decorum. Clearly if left alone, Psyche would make a mess of things.

Lord Whats-his-name was delighted to have won the Suitor Games -- finally. He had been worried somewhere in the middle there. But things had gone well, he’d made it through, and now Cydippe would be his.  Cydippe seemed rather pleased with him too.

In the days that followed the sisters’ excursion, the king and queen determined that it was time for Cydippe to focus on selecting a suitor of her own.  Cydipee had to admit it had been nice to accompany Psyche in some of her work. It wasn’t nearly as boring as she had thought it would be.

Psyche sighed as she approached the village square. It had been nice having Cydippe join her for a visit to the school. The children had done well with their poems. At the sight of Psyche, several visitors rushed towards her.

The wedding of the century came and went. The bride and groom moved to their new home and got into the natural rhythm of all married couples:  Perfection and utter bliss. Or so said Aglaura.  The remaining sisters were left to occupy themselves until it was their turn. For what else were maidens to do, but wait to get married? “I’m so bored!” Cydippe said, flopping down onto Psyche's bed.

The sisters get ready for Aglaura's big day.

Psyche is too busy to help with her sister's upcoming wedding. But she does sit down with a villager who has lost everything.

In a kingdom not far from here, there lived a king and queen and their three beautiful daughters. The king and queen loved their daughters equally. Among the princesses, however, it was a bit of a competition. Before long the competition among the sisters had grown to greater heights.  Much more dangerous heights.  Like, really dangerous.