Psyche awoke that morning feeling reborn. Stretching arms out, she padded to her balcony and drank in the beautiful scene before her. The air was crisply scented with cypress and salt, the sun shining upon the glimmering sea in all of its glory. She found it unbelievable that one could go through such a change of heart in only one night. The day before she had felt as though her whole world was crumbling beneath her feet, and now it was as though she were a whole new woman. Perhaps it had been part of that lovely dream she'd had the night before. How realistic it had seemed, the man before her, gazing at her in such a tender way as he gently cupped her cheek. It was strange to think she would fantasize of such a man in her dreams. Usually she was sensible and clear-headed, the expectations her sisters had of exceedingly gorgeous men coming and sweeping them off of their feet did not reach Psyche. Such dreams of grandeur almost seemed childish to her, it didn't matter about the most handsome man, merely the right man.
Pushing the dream-man from her thoughts, Psyche inhaled deeply the fresh air and smiled. No more moping, she decided resolutely. Depression was a heavy business, and frankly, she didn't have the heart for it anymore. She could only be sad for so long before it consumed her completely. Feeling as though a large weight had been lifted from her heart, she nearly danced back into her room, taking an elaborately bottled perfume from her vanity and dabbing some of its sweet fragrance upon her neck in a playful manner.
One of her serving girls, Phoebe, began to open the door ever so carefully, as not to disturb her lately distraught mistress from one of her moods. However, the she nearly dropped her pitcher of water upon entering the princess' room. Psyche had anticipated her maid, swiftly opening the door herself with a broad grin upon her face.
"Phoebe!" Psyche exclaimed, ushering the flustered young woman into the room. "Isn't it a simply brilliant day? Certainly not one to waste, I was thinking that perhaps we could gather a few people to go out for a picnic, what do you think?" the princess queried in a happy tone, taking the pitcher from her maid and pouring it into a bowl. Phoebe simply stared at her in amazement, totally oblivious to the question.
"I…ah…brought you some water, to wash with…" She trailed off, gesturing lamely to the empty pitcher. Psyche merely smiled and nodded, suppressing a laugh as she proceeded to splash some water upon her face.
With a swift, awkward bow, Phoebe hurried out of the room and nearly ran into another maid. "God gods, you'll never believe it!" Phoebe exclaimed. "The princess is herself again! I don't know what brought it on, but she's a sight to see, it's like someone breathed the life back into her. She's practically giddy, nearly scared the life out of me…" Phoebe went on, muttering the last part under her breath as she shook her head, going on with her work. The word passed from servant to servant, and soon it was known that the king's youngest daughter was once again her happy, smiling self.
Strolling down the large corridor, Psyche peeked into each room as she passed. The servants were busy with their morning duties, in one room were a pair of maids making up the bed. Together they were helping to put a large sheet on the bed, and as it flapped up and down it reminded Psyche of a great white sail upon a boat, fluttering in the gusts of wind. Sailing, she thought, would also be lovely. Her ears perked as she heard familiar voices from down the hall, and she saw her sisters turn the corner, laughing about something. She hurried to catch up to them, a smile still painted upon her bright face.
"Psyche!" Medea said in surprise, glancing briefly to Phredra and raising her eyebrows. "You seem to have had a miraculous turn around," she noted, her lips drawn into a thin smile. Phedra merely nodded, her arms folded over her rich gown as she watched her younger sister in amusement.
Psyche nodded emphatically. "Yes, I truly have. I woke up this morning and felt as though I had been renewed. I feel wonderful!" she exclaimed, her sisters once again exchanging cryptic glances between themselves and stifling giggles.
"Well, Psyche, that's wonderful!" Phedra declared, placing a skinny hand upon her youngest sister's shoulder. "We're so happy to hear you've accepted your maidenhood," she oozed, "after all, it's so very noble and all." Tilting her head, Psyche shrugged away any questions of how genuine her sister's congratulations were and simply accepted her 'compliment.' The two bade their sister a good day and went along, speaking to themselves in hushed, giggly voices.
Medea and Phedra had always been close, as the two oldest they were barely a year apart, while Psyche was a couple years behind. Though Psyche would argue until her face turned blue that her sisters were truly good people who loved her dearly, it was apparent to anyone who watched the three interact that there was a huge rift between them. While Medea and Phedra were lovely in their own rights, they were insanely jealous of Psyche's beauty, and even more so of the attention she had gained, especially with the young men. However, now that Psyche had been proclaimed a "spinster", as they called it, they basked in their own glory, knowing that they had free claim to any of the suitors that had once asked for their sister. They found it to be the ultimate irony, thought it was only fitting for their sister of such goddess-like beauty. Psyche, on the other hand, would not hear an ill word against them. They were her sisters, and she loved them.
Psyche continued on her way down to meet her parents in the dining hall, knowing they would be eating their breakfast, when she was suddenly stopped by one of her servants. "Amaranth, how lovely to see you! Was there something you needed?" Psyche asked, unsure of why the usually timid, soft spoken girl had stopped her.
"I, ahh….I was wondering…" she paused, her eyes shifting around nervously, "whether you…erm…had any more specifications for the garden?" she asked, the last bit blurted out rather quickly. Psyche raised an eyebrow, looking out through the large columns to the courtyard.
"Well, I suppose if you needed more suggestions, but I'm quite happy with it, really…and why do you ask, Amaranth? You don't work in the gardens." Amaranth's eyes widened and she began to stammer, fidgeting with her robes.
"Oh, yes, miss, I know that, it's just….the….um, the gardeners asked if you would like any other flowers for your balcony, and so I told them I would ask you," the young girl replied, her eyes fixed on the marbled floors.. Behind the serving girl a trail of the queen's attendants hurried into the dining hall. Psyche eyed them inquisitively, and then looked back to Amaranth.
"Oh, no, I won't be needing any more, I'm quite happy with what I have now. Thank you," she said with a kind smile as she began to make her way toward the commotion. Amaranth scurried in front of her once again, looking frantic.
"Oh, but…but really, miss? I was thinking we could just…just go out into the gardens and pick some more, I know how you love flowers…" she rambled on, desperate to pull Psyche's attention from the dining hall.
Surprised by the servant's insistence, Psyche frowned. "Amaranth, are you trying to distract me?"
At that the young serving girl panicked, shaking her head wildly. "N-no, miss, of course not…well, I mean… You just can't go in there," she said in desperation, pleading with the princess. Psyche gently pushed her way past the girl and headed to the large doors of the dining hall. Opening them with haste, what she saw on the inside astonished her.
At the large table sat her mother, heaving great sobs with her head in her hands. She was hysterical, her body racking with her impassioned weeping. Her attendants flocked around her, trying to ease her tears, but to no avail. Her father stood stoically at the window, his face etched with such sadness and grief. Psyche's mind raced with millions of questions and concerns, she had never seen her parents in such a state. She rushed to her mother, who upon seeing her daughter immediately gathered her into her arms and wept into her hair. Psyche looked around pleadingly to all of her mother's attendants, all of whom stood looking helpless and guilty. "What has happened here?" Psyche asked, utterly stunned.
Filia raised her tearful face to her daughter, looking deeply at her with all the sadness in the world in her eyes. Sheepishly, one of the servants came forward with a letter in her hand. Psyche rose slowly, taking the paper from the servant as her mother turned her face into her hands. Raising the letter with hesitation, she read.
"As promised, I will now divulge what I have foreseen in Psyche's future. You must do exactly as I instruct, or all will be lost. You must take her to the highest point on my mountain and leave her there, wearing her bridal gown. There she shall wait for her betrothed; a great and terrible beast."
The paper wafted to the ground from Psyche's hands as her heart sank to her stomach. She stared ahead as if in a trance, her hands still frozen in front of her as though she still clasped that fateful piece of paper. All of the other sights and sounds in the room seemed to fade away, only one thing playing again and again in her mind: There she shall wait for her betrothed, a great and terrible beast.
She was to marry a monster.