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Chapter 52 Chapter 54
“Psyche??” her mother said.
An attendant had led Psyche into their family’s private sitting room while the king and queen were alerted of their daughter’s return. Her mother had been the first to reach the room.
Psyche was tired. She’d thanked Zephyr for being kind enough to save her the walk down the hill, dropping her at the entrance to the palace.
“I’m sorry to wake you so early, mother,” Psyche said.
“What happened??” her mother asked, trying to make sense of the sight of her daughter, the one who had married a monster.
Her father joined them.
Psyche sat silent for a moment. How could she explain?
“Are you hurt?” her father asked.
“No. No, I’m alright,” Psyche said.
“Where did you come from?” her mother asked.
“From my husband’s house,” Psyche said.
“Where is your husband?” her father asked.
“The better question would be who is my husband,” Psyche said.
She was still processing it herself.
The king and queen looked at each other.
“Who is your husband?” her father asked, carefully.
She almost couldn’t bring herself to say it.
“Eros, God of Desire, the son of Aphrodite Herself,” Psyche said.
“The God of Desire??” her father said in disbelief. “How is that even possible?”
“Weren’t you supposed to marry a monster?” her mother asked, trying to understand.
“He was the ‘monster’,” Psyche said sadly.
“I certainly wouldn’t call him a monster,” her mother said.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” her father said.
“I know,” Psyche said, sighing.
“But, what happened?” her father asked. “Why are you here and not with your husband?”
Psyche wasn’t sure how to explain.
“I can no longer live in my husband’s house,” Psyche said finally.
She had lost him, lost him forever.
Psyche felt herself sag as the reality of what she had done began to sink in. She tried to steady her breathing and hold back tears, but she was failing to keep herself composed.
Her parents looked at each other. They knew well enough not to make a scene in front of the attendants. There would be time enough for answers. Psyche needed to rest.
The king nodded to his wife, as she took charge.
The queen directed attendants to prepare Psyche’s room, and told everyone else to return to their posts. The king bid Psyche good morning — or good night? — and left her with a reassuring fatherly hug.
The queen led Psyche to her own room to give time for the attendants to prepare Psyche’s. She instructed an attendant to help Psyche into one of the queen’s own sleeping gowns. Psyche obediently moved out of her old clothes and into her mother’s. It felt strange having someone help her dress again.
Had she really not noticed how helpless she had functioned before as a princess?
“You are safe now, Psyche,” the queen said to Psyche as she prepared to dismiss her to her own rooms. “Your father and I love you. Whatever has happened, we will figure this out. For now, sleep.”
Psyche gave her mother a hug. It felt strange to be back, but her mother’s calm confidence helped Psyche feel better.
Psyche followed an attendant to her room. It was still bustling with people making the final preparations before she could slip into bed.
When she finally did, her bed felt oddly less familiar.
What would she tell her parents about what had happened? How would she explain her life since they had abandoned her atop the hill?
How long had it been?
As she lay in the dull light of early morning, Psyche tried to fight the feelings of loss and despair. She had failed. She had lost. She was back home, but it wasn’t home anymore.
Her husband had tried to alter his mother’s will by taking her and keeping her safe in his home. She had ruined everything because she couldn’t bear to be in the dark.
Why had it been so hard for her? Why couldn’t she have just trusted him?
Psyche snuggled in deeper under the blankets, trying to find comfort. At least she would be free to help the villagers again. She would be able to see their smiles and help them overcome their sorrows.
The thought of the villagers didn’t bring the comfort she had hoped.
Tears rolled down her hot cheeks.
Who would help her overcome her sorrow?
If I Had Words 
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