Author's Note: I'm so so so sorry I wasn't able to update sooner. This is definitely my first priority, though.

Standard Disclaimer (if needed), applied.

Have fun and thanks so much for reviewing. Very much love to all that are willing to take the time to read and review. You know I love to hear your opinions!

(Revamped, 6/11/08)

Three

It technically isn't a temple. There are the elaborate marble columns, pristine steps, spirals of ribbons, and delicate flourishes of flowers, but it seems more like an empty, bleak dungeon.

The entire edifice is on a cloud, for goodness' sakes.

I sigh, and was about to run my hand through my hair when I realize that it is stiffly coiffed at the top of my head. Only a small handful runs down my back, so I twist the strands around my fingers, watching them purple under pressure.

Zephyrus was gone; there is no turning back. I probably wouldn't be stepping out of this coffin any time soon.

There is no point in just standing here, either.

I square my shoulders and smooth the wrinkles out of my gown. I will not cry. I will not request mercy. I will show my husband that I am not just some trophy won by a lucky drawing; I can take whatever he finds in his interest to lash at me. I will not be afraid.

I walk with the best dignity I can muster--well, as much as I can walking on a cloud--to the steps of the building.

So, perhaps not a temple. One could consider it a palace.

I brush past the columns at the entrance and ignore the train of my gown that drags behind me.

It looks surprisingly empty, even though it is well lit with groups of tall, white candles perched on intricate silver stands. There is an alarming sense of space, as I realize how enormous the whole thing was; and is that a staircase at the back?

The only object I see is a large hammock languidly stretched between two columns. It totally throws off the balanced distance between every one of the columns, but I suppose one could say that it definitely adds a nice touch to the whole place.

Hmm. It seems like there is a long loveseat with a small table at the other end, too.

I definitely didn't prepare myself for the quiet rush of wind from behind me and the delicate voice of a woman.

"Miss Psyche?"

I jumped literally up off of the sleek marble floor. I'm…easily alarmed, really.

I grimace inwardly as I fly over the roof of a small cottage. There is bound to be some chaos in the mortal world. Soon.

I wasn't able to concentrate on my work today.

However, I did notice an extremely beautiful young blonde girl today. I'm trying to think of a…ah, suitable match for her…her father seems to be thinking of a contest where the winner will be her future husband. Well, it shall be a few more years before she is of age for marriage.

I am usually very absorbed in my work, thank you. It's really very fun to watch the love bloom comically in a mortal's expression. Although, it's really not like all love stems from me. Usually love that doesn't bloom from my arrows are...well, fated to happen.

Or, love just happens, as it sometimes does.

I honestly can't wait to see my bride.

Does it not have a certain ring to it? My bride? The bride of Eros, the almighty god of love?

It sounds very nice, I think.

I even find myself humming a little tune. Just one more hour or so, and I'd finally be able to visit my bride. Well, I normally don't take breaks in between my work, but surely Mother wouldn't mind. She probably won't even notice.

She doesn't really pay much attention to anything, and she might as well never. She hasn't even remarked about Psyche, her most recent target. I think it is rather a good thing that she's focused on my bride for the time being; I don't think the other beautiful blonde would fare too well with my mother.

The girl is so young. Too young to be that attractive and for her father to think of her marriage; although her beauty would only grow with age…

Speaking of beauty...

It felt very strange to look at her and not feel just a bit tempted to woo her.

Well, of course, I never play around with the younger ones, but, it's usually all in good fun, and I never appear to them, or do anything with them, in fact...

I would usually be quite attracted to someone of her looks.

This is so very odd.

"I'm so very sorry to have startled you, miss!"

Startled doesn't even cover the half of it.

"N-no, no, it's fine. It's just rather unnerving to, er, hear someone rather than seeing them first." I glance around, but I still can't find anybody around.

"Actually, miss, no one is able to see us. Not a soul. We are supposed to be just substances a bit more than wind, miss."

"Pardon me, but who…?"

"It's quite all right. We are the servants of this palace, miss."

Well. That's certainly a new notion.

"Would you like to take a look around the palace, miss? You are indeed the Lady of this, now."

"I'd…like that."

Of all the enormous rooms I looked around with the servant, the most interesting was my…new…chamber. It was so extremely large; decorated with the most expensive-looking furniture and accessories that I have ever seen.

Honestly! I vehemently swear on my word that there was gold woven in the curtains and tapestries!

I myself was very astounded at the different jars of cosmetics that lay innocently on the surface of my vanity.

Fragrant oils with a large variety of scents, vain balms of the rarest, and there were even a few bottles of some sweet-smelling tonic that I could only write off as elixir.

Finally. I should probably only stay for around half an hour before going back to my job. Yes, I know Mother usually doesn't allow breaks (as my brother and I don't exactly need them), but I'm not giving her so much a care at this point.

I spiral upward, avoiding the wispy clouds. They are very much a pain to fly through. My wings are quite sensitive and the moisture beads on them in quite a strange and unsightly way. It's also tiresome to shake the water off when I refold my wings.

I gain speed as the clouds soon clear away, and I'm much, much higher from ground. The sun is pleasant today, and I grudgingly admit that Apollo has taken care of Demeter's last winter nicely.

My palace comes into sight, and I fold my wings as I drop onto the surface. Technically, it's not really a cloud. I detest clouds.

I step into the ground floor of my dwelling and summon a servant. Their faces and appearance are wiped off by my mother, being the extremely jealous goddess she is.

She's just afraid of the fact that she's really not the most beautiful of all womankind.

The servant says that she is upstairs, and perhaps it's better that I respect her privacy for now, since—

I wave her off and, spreading my wings, I fly up the staircase and land in the hallway of the second floor.

Apparently, my bride is in the bath, as I am told by the sound of the gentle lappings of water, the warm light of the candles from the doorway, and the heady scent of roses.

This will, no doubt, prove to be very amusing.

Let the games begin.

I absent-mindedly sprinkle some more rose petals into the water. The golden platter filled with the petals floats gently away and I hide a slight grimace.

I honestly need to accustom myself to the servants.

The soft music of the lyre is quite pleasant in combination with the gentle voices of the women.

This is such an elaborate dwelling; the ceiling alone of this bath is filled with thousands of tiny, colored glass tiles that form a complete puzzle of an intricate serpentine pattern. The floor of the bath, too, is a mosaic of the jeweled pieces. Light shines through a large window with glass panels.

I look skyward through the glass and heaved a sigh.

It definitely appears that my death wouldn't be quick and clean.

What will become of me tonight?

I have seen none of my husband so far, and I try to reassure myself that he will only appear at night when necessary. I think he's notified of his new found wife, as I would probably not be here if he did not give his permission.

I sigh again, before scooping up some water and gently cleanse my face. I wipe off the excess water as the servant comes forward with another golden platter, this one piled with soft linens.

After my face is patted dry, I give the soiled linen back and sink further down into the fragrant waters. There is a large amount of petals on the surface, and the water ripples quietly from the movements of the fountain by my side.

The bath is indeed a very lovely place. It is very well-decorated with an elegant, youthful taste.

I especially like the view from the large window across from me, which is now shielded by the rosy curtains. I highly doubt anyone else is on this cloud.

There's also t—

What was that?

She's so immensely beautiful, and it makes me feel very proud that she's really all mine.

Alright, so not quite all mine…

But that's only just a matter of time. I hope I don't do anything that would hurt her…It's the last thing I want to do. I've never been in that kind of situation before where I care so much about the woman I'm making love to, but…I should have. Ah, well. There are always going to be other chances in the future for her t—

Actually, I might need a false name, don't I? Can't have her screaming my real name, although that really is quite the damper…

I'm ticking off several names in my head as I watch her in the bath from the doorway. She has her back to me, and all I can see is her pretty little head with her fair golden locks curled at the crown of her head in a bun.

Funny, her hair wasn't this curly everytime I visited her...

Did she take the effort to curl her hair for the occasion? Really, that's too sweet of her.

Alcander, Alexander, Anieli…

Attis, Avel, Avram…

Cleon, Cohn, Corban…

Deo, Dione, Dorian…

No. No. And no.

Krischnan, Lander, Leander…

Hmm, Leander. That sounds pleasant enough. …The lion man? That's…rather odd. It sounds savagely masculine, though…But, never mind.

Luke, Lykaios, Lysander…

Lysander? The liberator…!

Hmph. I need one that would sound well on those worthy lips of hers…

Teodor, Thanos, Tibalt…

When had I skipped so much?

Icarus, Isidore, Jace…

Jace sounded well enough. It seems a bit feminine, though…

She sighs and I turn my attention back towards her. I'm still standing in the doorway, leaning against the walls…A mortal won't be able to see me, though…And probably never will—I can't let her know who I am.

Lysander it is, then. Jace sounds a little familiar…I can't seem to remember much about the name, but it somehow reminds me of Apollo and sheep. I'm quite sure that it's not a good thing.

I set my bows and arrows down with a clatter and slip off my sandals.

She whips her head around and stares at me—she's really not, since her eyes are trying to find me, but I feel like those globes of blue are boring into my soul—

I'm really, really, usually not so…dramatically feminine, as my brother so kindly reminds me every once in a while.

She's so beautiful. I can't believe she's here…in my bath, in my palace, in my life.

I smile my most charming smirk, even though she won't see it.

Game, indeed.