‘No!’ I felt him flinch in genuine alarm. ‘There are no lamps permitted in this house.’
I was baffled. ‘Why?’
‘You would be burned at the sight of my face,’ my new husband replied, and the sudden intensity of his tone chilled me. ‘Just as Zeus turned Semele to ash by showing her a glimpse of his true self, so you would be destroyed if you looked upon me. I wish it were not so, but this is the only way. You must believe me.’
I knew the story he spoke of. Semele, mortal mother of the god Dionysus, had demanded to see the true form of her mysterious lover Zeus. When the king of heaven finally obliged, Semele was burnt to a cinder by his radiance, and her unborn son had to be sewn into Zeus’s thigh to survive.
But Cupid was not mighty Zeus, bearer of thunder; he was only a minor deity of the earth. Besides, the gods always found ways of revealing themselves to mortals when they wished.
‘So you have taken me as your wife and brought me into your home,’ I began slowly. ‘Knowing that I would be destroyed if I saw your face. That seems like a poor foundation for a marriage.’
Eros
Psyche had a point, I had to admit. Who would take a spouse they could not even see? A poor start indeed.
And yet, I could not bring myself to tell Psyche the truth, just as I could not bear to tell her my real name. To have her here with me now, to speak with her, soothed the open wound of my longing like a healing balm. If she learned the true reason she had been brought to me, surely she would leave. My heart cringed away from the thought. No, I could not lose her now.
‘This is the safest place for you,’ I told her. That, at least, was not false. Aphrodite would not let us go unpunished if she discovered Psyche uncursed. One lie could be permitted if it protected her from a greater threat. ‘A monster pursues you, a terrible one.’
I had thought my sombre words would mollify Psyche, but I was quickly proven wrong. I heard a thump as she jumped off the bed, then the swish of her frenetic pacing across the dark room, as if her body could not contain her excitement. There was a clang and a hiss – she must have stubbed her toe. Then the bed dipped beside me as she leaped onto it and grabbed my hands.
‘You must tell me where to find this beast,’ she ordered, voice wild. ‘It must be the same one that destroyed the Mycenaean village. I am trained to fight such monsters. I am a child of prophecy, destined to destroy a monster that terrifies even the gods.’
To emphasize her point, she squeezed my hands tighter. I was startled to discover their roughness. I was unused to callouses,and Psyche’s small hands were roughened by her training. But the curse thrilled at her touch and flooded me with heat – an ecstasy I had not felt in centuries, though I knew how perilous my hold on it was. I had no idea how to keep Psyche here with me if she refused. Perhaps I could turn her into a tree for just a little while, only to ensure sure she didn’t do anything rash …
‘Well?’ Psyche’s voice cut through the darkness between us, and her hands vanished from mine. The warmth drained from my body at the absence of her touch, the curse once more taking up its mournful howl within my soul. ‘You will bring me to this monster, won’t you?’
‘Stay with me.’ The words escaped unbidden, and I was horrified to note the begging tone in my voice. Gods do not beg, generally speaking, but recently my days had been filled with all sorts of unpleasant novelties. ‘We can discuss this more tomorrow. Stay for a while,’ I repeated. ‘This is our wedding night, after all.’
Psyche
‘Our wedding night,’ I repeated, my mouth suddenly dry. ‘And I’m sure you’re here to fulfill your … husbandly duties.’
I’d heard stories of what gods did to the mortal girls they favoured. It was said that Helen herself had been the product of such an encounter. I realized I might be in the presence of something far more dangerous than a mere monster.
But I thought as well of the servant girls who giggled about their lovers in stolen whispers. I thought of my mother and father, arms linked as they walked through the palace gardensin the evening. Cupid demonstrated no cruelty, and fear warred with curiosity in my belly.
‘I confess that it did cross my mind,’ my unseen husband replied. ‘Though now that you’ve knocked me about the head, I’d rather get some sleep.’ I felt him lower himself on to his side, the blankets shifting as he made his way beneath them.
My shoulders relaxed, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
After a moment, Cupid asked, ‘Are you going to sit up all night, or will you get some sleep? If you want sleeping clothes, the house will provide them for you.’
I glanced down at myself. Though the darkness obscured my vision, I knew I still wore the battered leather armour I had donned that morning. The idea of changing clothes in front of this stranger, even if he was my so-called husband, made my cheeks flame with embarrassment.
‘I have no need of such things,’ I replied. Gingerly, I lay down on top of the blankets, and was astonished to note that their quality was even finer than my parents’ linens back in Mycenae.
‘I have one more request,’ I said, staring up at the ceiling. ‘I want to write a letter to my mother and father, to let them know that I am safe.’
‘Then I will give you writing materials and swift messenger hawks. I will be gone when the sun rises, but this house will provide you with anything you need. I’ll come to you again when night falls.’ With that, Cupid rolled onto his side and said no more.
I had never felt further from sleep in my life. My body hummed with excitement. I did not know what to make of the god who called himself my husband, but such a change in station only brought me closer to my heroic destiny. I had found the trail of the monster that would ensure my legend. Cupid claimed to know of this beast, and so I would make him lead me to it.
But Cupid also had his own reasons for bringing me here, and I had the sense of events taking shape beyond my understanding.
I looked towards the place where I heard his quiet breaths. ‘I know nothing at all about you,’ I said. ‘What do you enjoy? What do you dislike?’
I felt the sheets rustle beside me. ‘Well,’ he murmured. ‘I am skilled at archery. I like cats and birds, but not dogs …’
