Semele daughter of Cadmus paced the length of her chamber in a state of helpless fury and frustration. Mentally she hurled curses at the fates, that intended to entwine her destiny with that of prince Athamas on the morrow. For a few moments she enjoyed herself attempting to think of a list of the most
unflattering adjectives that could describe the suitor her father had
chosen. Weak, dull, boring, unintelligent, and infuriating, became the
beginning of a rapidly growing list.
To be sure, he had offered convincing speeches and rich gifts to her father when seeking her hand in marriage. Perhaps, if he had been amongst the first 3 princes, she might have
seriously considered his proposal. But after 6 had come and gone, with
their empty words of flattery, chests of treasure and offers of land, Semele
had lost interest in the proceedings.
They were all the same. Rich men with titles that had been earned through inheritance, instead of their own effort. Some were young, others more experienced, but each sought a woman of noble birth to ornament their household, provide sexual favors, and bare sons to carry on the royal line. This was what awaited her. After tomorrow, she would be queen of Beotia.
How many ordinary girls longed to be a princess thought that they would enjoy the many luxuries and trappings of royalty? If they only knew the cost, the price demanded of all destined by the fates to be born into a royal family.
Would they still desire wealth and the life of a princess, if they knew of the struggle to keep a mask of calm and regal dignity forever in place? Probably. Semele was realistic enough to know that many would think the privileges far outweighed the demands of duty.
Servants sent to ask if the princess required any assistance or sustenance
were curtly dismissed, with the order that none were to disturb her until
morning. They obeyed reluctantly, unwilling to risk offending a woman who was more than capable of seeing that they receive punishment should they displease her in any way.
All of the necessary preparations and rituals had been completed, according
to tradition and the laws given by the gods. Semele had automatically
slipped into the role of bride, performing each expected task with the grace
and dignity befitting her rank as a princess. Yet it had not gone
unremarked amongst the palace servants, that their princess showed none of
the usual emotions of joy or excitement before her wedding.
None could fault her for her adherence to custom, each sacrifice had been
Performed. To Artemis, a treasured toy and lock of raven hair had been offered. The prayers to Juno had been made in the hope that she would bless their marriage. And amidst the congratulations of courtiers, slaves, and the feverish
preparations for the wedding, Semele had remained calm and dignified.
Only Ino, her sister saw beneath the mask of cool indifference, ritual words and gestures. Saw a sister struggling to contain an
ever growing fury, resentment, and crushing despair.
Cadmus reacted, as Semele knew he would with anger, and frustration. The memory of their recent conversation caused her dark eyes to burn with a look of triumphant exaltation. It was the look of a warrior after winning a great victory over an enemy who had troubled him for far too long.
"By the gods, girl, you look as if you're preparing for a funeral instead of
your own wedding." She had struggled to suppress the urge to laugh aloud at
the truth of this remark. He could not know how accurately he had summarized the turmoil within her soul. Nor could he hope to understand her sorrow, for after the third day of feasting and celebrations she would say farewell to her close friend and sister.
Her father's next comment had nearly made her lose what little composure she still possessed. "It's a thousand pities you couldn't have been more like Agave, or Autone. At least they were content with their chosen husbands and their weddings were a great success."
Semele let the familiar words flow over her, attempting to compose her features into an expression of polite interest. She had heard this speech a hundred times, by now she could probably recite the so called virtues of the siblings her father had always favored more than herself and Ino.
Daughters of the late queen of Thebes, Agave and Autone had always had the favor of Cadmus. Unlike Semele and Ino, they had embraced the expected role of a princess and all that meant, never seeking or desiring anything else accept to fulfill their duties to their kingdom. Thus had the children of Cadmus become divided. Two followed the expected way of women born to royalty; and two sought the paths to their destinies in the hope that they would not share the fates of their sisters.
How could he sit there and lecture her about the expected behavior of royalty, when she had completed all of the wedding preparations according to the law? Dear gods, couldn't he see that she was making every effort to live up to his high expectations? How could he even think she approved his choice for a husband?
Semele suspected that her father had chosen Athamas for her because he was an unimaginative, formal slave to the customs and beliefs of their society. Fresh anger welled up within Semele as these thoughts formed within her keen mind. Her father knew perfectly well that she craved the affections of a man who understood her love of knowledge, power, and could accept her eccentric ways.
Semele was so absorbed in her own thoughts that her father's shouted question made her let out a startled gasp. "Well? Have you nothing to say daughter?"
She couldn't help it. The words were out before she could hold them back, delivered with all the force of the swiftest and deadliest of arrows. "What you really mean, is that they always obeyed your every order and never thought to question your judgment. Is that not so, my king and royal father?"
Cadmus glared at his eldest daughter, unable to deny the truth of her statement. And yet he could not help but admire her knowledge of court etiquette, and her unquestionable skill with the formal language of nobility. He was not the only one to have experience with this useful talent his daughter possessed. Many a courtier had come to fear and respect their princess, for her skill in concealing words of condemnation or affront beneath carefully chosen phrases of formality.
For the thousandth time he wondered why the gods had chosen to give him such difficult children. It was true that Semele was a proud and beautiful girl, and in many ways the crowning glory of his ancient house. Yet her headstrong nature, and reckless behavior often made him wish Agave and Autonoe had been his only children. Then he would have been spared the trouble of dealing with the passionate, outspoken Semele, and the constant reminder of his beloved wife which confronted him whenever he looked into the face of Ino.
Some expression must have given away his thoughts, if the scornful look Semele gave him was any indication. He had made no secret of his affection for the daughters who had brought honor and prosperity to his house by their successful marriages.
The memory of the confrontation with her father only made Semele all the more determined to find some way of thwarting his expectations. And so she fought. Her battleground the labyrinthine corridors of her mind, sought to slay the customs and expectations forced upon her with a sword crafted of hardened words, forged in the fires of her rage.
She could not remember a time when she had not felt smothered by the laws and customs of her people, she had tried to find a way to stand against the constant pressure of the
expectations of her father and kingdom. And so the impassive mask of a princess had become her armor, her keen mind became a blade as sharp as a sword, and she wielded both with all the skill and ferocity of the accomplished warrior. For in the end it
was all she had.
And now, on the evening before her wedding, momentarily free from the stifling attentions of servants, the empty platitudes of courtiers, and the watchful gaze of her father, the battle still raged within. Resentment warred against duty, fury with resignation, despair with unreasoning hope, as she tried to think of a way to avoid or delay the inevitable.
Note from the authoress: Originally this chapter and the next were combined, but after a few reviewers pointed out that it was too long I decided to go back and shorten this section a bit.
Thanks for reading.