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“Psyche! Where have you been??” Aglaura said as Psyche rushed in.
“Forgive me, I had just a few stops to make,” Psyche said. “I did them as quickly as possible.”
Aglaura glared at her.
The women occupied a large dressing room filled with fabrics and attendants. The drapes had been pulled back from between the columns and light freely streamed in.
“Don’t you realize how important this is to me?” Aglaura said. “I’m getting married, and you’re not even ready!”
Aglaura motioned to the attendants who were looking at her blankly.
“Help Princess Psyche!” Aglaura directed, not even hiding her annoyance.
Did she have to think for everyone?
“Everything must be absolutely perfect!” Aglaura said, turning to a mirror as Psyche was whisked away. “This isn’t just any wedding. This is the wedding; the wedding of the century. The joining of two kingdoms. The union which will solidify our place in the world.”
Cydippe stood in front of another mirror, already wearing her dress and having her hair fixed by an attendant.
“Calm down, Aglaura,” Cydippe said, rolling her eyes slightly. “You’ve had this wedding planned for years. There is no way you’ve neglected a thing. I believe the whole palace has it memorized.”
Cydippe’s attempts to belittle Aglaura had no effect. All of Aglaura’s work had been worth it; the studying, the meditation, her attention to every detail of every aspect of her life. She was marrying well. High King would make an excellent husband and her parents were clearly pleased by the alliance.
Aglaura looked at herself and smiled. She would outshine them all. She would set the bar so high, none of them would be able to touch her.
Psyche emerged from the changing station followed by the attendants.
“I am sorry,” Psyche said, rushing over to a chair where attendants could start on her hair. “I know how important this is to you. And I know it will be absolutely perfect.”
Aglaura regarded Psyche through the reflection in the mirror.
Aglaura had been worried when Psyche had become popular with the people, even more popular than Cydippe. Everyone seemed to love Psyche so much.
Aglaura watched Psyche as the attendants untwisted Psyche’s hair from her morning errands.
Could Psyche possibly knock Aglaura out of first place? After all of Aglaura’s hard work and effort?
Psyche fumbled with her dress.
Maybe Psyche could, if she wasn’t completely oblivious. Poor thing. She needed so much help and guidance. As popular as she was now, Psyche was painfully unaware of the real world — their world of royalty and politics.
And anyway, popularity wasn’t everything. Aglaura already knew that. It was about quality leadership and organizing chaos.
Aglaura would lead the way. She would show her sisters the path to follow, but they would never be able to surpass her — not even Psyche.
“So…” Cydippe said casually, interrupting Aglaura’s thoughts. “What do you think it will be like, Aglaura? Are you nervous?”
Aglaura knew exactly what Cydippe was talking about. Urgh, she was so vulgar and unrefined. This was why Cydippe would always be second best. Her weakness would ever be her infatuation with sensuality.
It was revolting.
“Why would I be nervous?” Aglaura said with a haughty air. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. I’ve read all about it and it’s just basic biology. From the humblest of insects to the most intelligent creatures, reproduction is the most natural.”
“But what if High King is rough? Coarse in his ways of handling a woman?” Cydippe pressed with a wry smile.
Aglaura hated Cydippe’s unnecessary dramatics.
“I know he’s not. High King is a perfect gentleman,” Aglaura said, a touch defensive.
Psyche glanced at her oldest sister. She was always thinking of others. Did she ever give much thought to herself?
“How would you like to be loved, Aglaura?” Psyche asked.
Aglaura thought for a moment.
“In all of my studies, of course there is the aspect of passion. I’ve personally been of the opinion that it’s overrated. Why get so emotional about something so natural? Approach love as it is meant to be approached. Simple, straightforward, without all of the mess. That’s how I prefer it,” Aglaura said. “I pity the fools who dash themselves against the rocks trying to prove their undying love or some such nonsense. Simple and practical work for me. I know my husband will love me. I don’t need grand gestures of passion for him to prove it to me.”
“Well, your stoic beliefs are boring,” Cydippe said, teasingly pushing Aglaura out of the way of her mirror. “I want to be torn apart by his desire.”
Cydippe hugged the mirror and then dramatically turned to face her sisters. “I want to be wrapped up so tightly in his love, I can’t breathe. Love me and ravish me. Leave nothing left.”
She heaved her bosoms and arched her back in imagined rapture.
Psyche blushed.
“Oh, you’re so crude, Cydippe,” Aglaura said, gently, but firmly, pushing her away. “It’s all that poetry you read. As if that’s real life. No one loves like that. It’s a figment of the poet’s imagination.”
“And besides,” Aglaura added sternly, “the stoics are to be admired for their wisdom and willpower. You wouldn’t know about such things. Let’s hope you make it to your wedding night.”
Psyche glanced at Cydippe, wondering how she would react to such an insult.
Cydippe assumed a superior air.
“Oh, I will maintain my virtue, have no doubt of that. My husband will be the only one worthy of me. He will be the only one capable of keeping up with my passion.
“And when it’s my turn I will have stories that will send shivers up your spine,” Cydippe said, running her fingers up Psyche’s back.
Psyche gasped and pulled away.
Aglaura watched Psyche as she tried to regain her composure after Cydippe’s teasing.
Psyche really was quite innocent.
“What about you, Psyche?” Aglaura asked, eager for a change of subject. “What would you want in a husband?”
Psyche looked startled.
“Me?” Psyche said.
“Yes, silly,” Cydippe said, joining in. “Mother and Father are hoping you’ll bring the best match of us all, though I can’t see how. You hardly draw any attention to yourself.”
Looking at Psyche, Aglaura couldn’t ignore the fact that Psyche really could have any man falling at her feet. And not just the weak-minded villagers — but kings, rulers, men of great power.
Maybe even the gods.
Psyche didn’t seem to care.
Psyche’s older sisters flanked her in front of the mirror as Psyche considered herself. Aglaura moved aside a stray hair while Cydippe adjusted the folds in Psyche’s dress.
Psyche knew her parents had high expectations for her, though she didn’t understand why. They already had Aglaura and Cydippe to bring enough fame and fortune to the kingdom. They were far better skilled at making themselves attractive and navigating the labyrinth of nobility and their overly-complicated rules.
Psyche sighed.
“Whoever he is, I’m sure he won’t be as handsome as High King,” Psyche said. “He’s a good match for you, Aglaura.”
Psyche looked at Aglaura in the reflection and smiled.
Aglaura smiled back.
Psyche really was much more palatable than Cydippe. If only Psyche was around more.
“Thank you, Psyche,” Aglaura said.
The bride considered herself in the mirror again. All of her efforts had not been in vain. Her entire figure spoke of calculated perfection.
Cydippe looked at Aglaura. She was certainly beautiful, but there was too much stiffness for her taste.
Cydippe stole a glance at herself as well. She was glad she’d paid a quick visit to Aphrodite’s temple to thank the Goddess for her recent improvements. When it came time for her to wed, it would be the most memorable, most exciting event ever.
Oh, but one side of Cydippe’s hairstyle was bigger than the other.
Aglaura and Cydippe were soon back to ordering attendants and making the final touches before their grand entrance before the two kingdoms.
Psyche lingered in front of the mirror.
All of the riches and frills seemed excessive to her. Did a woman really need so many adornments? Did she need to ask the Goddess for more perfect curves?
According to Cydippe, every woman couldn’t fully shine without divine intervention.
That might be. Psyche didn’t know much about such things. She was struggling enough with the long list of needs and concerns in the kingdom.
So many people needed to feel loved, needed encouragement, needed to know they were loveable.
Her sisters didn’t seem to see things the way she did.
Psyche wondered.
Would a husband understand?
As Psyche followed her sisters out of the room, ready to take their places in the procession, she took heart in being the youngest. She still had time to focus on her work. She didn’t have to worry about husbands or duties or marriage.
At least, not yet.
“Psyche! Where have you been??” Aglaura said as Psyche rushed in.
“Forgive me, I had just a few stops to make,” Psyche said. “I did them as quickly as possible.”
Aglaura glared at her.
The women occupied a large dressing room filled with fabrics and attendants. The drapes had been pulled back from between the columns and light freely streamed in.
“Don’t you realize how important this is to me?” Aglaura said. “I’m getting married, and you’re not even ready!”
Aglaura motioned to the attendants who were looking at her blankly.
“Help Princess Psyche!” Aglaura directed, not even hiding her annoyance.
Did she have to think for everyone?
“Everything must be absolutely perfect!” Aglaura said, turning to a mirror as Psyche was whisked away. “This isn’t just any wedding. This is the wedding; the wedding of the century. The joining of two kingdoms. The union which will solidify our place in the world.”
Cydippe stood in front of another mirror, already wearing her dress and having her hair fixed by an attendant.
“Calm down, Aglaura,” Cydippe said, rolling her eyes slightly. “You’ve had this wedding planned for years. There is no way you’ve neglected a thing. I believe the whole palace has it memorized.”
Cydippe’s attempts to belittle Aglaura had no effect. All of Aglaura’s work had been worth it; the studying, the meditation, her attention to every detail of every aspect of her life. She was marrying well. High King would make an excellent husband and her parents were clearly pleased by the alliance.
Aglaura looked at herself and smiled. She would outshine them all. She would set the bar so high, none of them would be able to touch her.
Psyche emerged from the changing station followed by the attendants.
“I am sorry,” Psyche said, rushing over to a chair where attendants could start on her hair. “I know how important this is to you. And I know it will be absolutely perfect.”
Aglaura regarded Psyche through the reflection in the mirror.
Aglaura had been worried when Psyche had become popular with the people, even more popular than Cydippe. Everyone seemed to love Psyche so much.
Aglaura watched Psyche as the attendants untwisted Psyche’s hair from her morning errands.
Could Psyche possibly knock Aglaura out of first place? After all of Aglaura’s hard work and effort?
Psyche fumbled with her dress.
Maybe Psyche could, if she wasn’t completely oblivious. Poor thing. She needed so much help and guidance. As popular as she was now, Psyche was painfully unaware of the real world — their world of royalty and politics.
And anyway, popularity wasn’t everything. Aglaura already knew that. It was about quality leadership and organizing chaos.
Aglaura would lead the way. She would show her sisters the path to follow, but they would never be able to surpass her — not even Psyche.
“So…” Cydippe said casually, interrupting Aglaura’s thoughts. “What do you think it will be like, Aglaura? Are you nervous?”
Aglaura knew exactly what Cydippe was talking about. Urgh, she was so vulgar and unrefined. This was why Cydippe would always be second best. Her weakness would ever be her infatuation with sensuality.
It was revolting.
“Why would I be nervous?” Aglaura said with a haughty air. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. I’ve read all about it and it’s just basic biology. From the humblest of insects to the most intelligent creatures, reproduction is the most natural.”
“But what if High King is rough? Coarse in his ways of handling a woman?” Cydippe pressed with a wry smile.
Aglaura hated Cydippe’s unnecessary dramatics.
“I know he’s not. High King is a perfect gentleman,” Aglaura said, a touch defensive.
Psyche glanced at her oldest sister. She was always thinking of others. Did she ever give much thought to herself?
“How would you like to be loved, Aglaura?” Psyche asked.
Aglaura thought for a moment.
“In all of my studies, of course there is the aspect of passion. I’ve personally been of the opinion that it’s overrated. Why get so emotional about something so natural? Approach love as it is meant to be approached. Simple, straightforward, without all of the mess. That’s how I prefer it,” Aglaura said. “I pity the fools who dash themselves against the rocks trying to prove their undying love or some such nonsense. Simple and practical work for me. I know my husband will love me. I don’t need grand gestures of passion for him to prove it to me.”
“Well, your stoic beliefs are boring,” Cydippe said, teasingly pushing Aglaura out of the way of her mirror. “I want to be torn apart by his desire.”
Cydippe hugged the mirror and then dramatically turned to face her sisters. “I want to be wrapped up so tightly in his love, I can’t breathe. Love me and ravish me. Leave nothing left.”
She heaved her bosoms and arched her back in imagined rapture.
Psyche blushed.
“Oh, you’re so crude, Cydippe,” Aglaura said, gently, but firmly, pushing her away. “It’s all that poetry you read. As if that’s real life. No one loves like that. It’s a figment of the poet’s imagination.”
“And besides,” Aglaura added sternly, “the stoics are to be admired for their wisdom and willpower. You wouldn’t know about such things. Let’s hope you make it to your wedding night.”
Psyche glanced at Cydippe, wondering how she would react to such an insult.
Cydippe assumed a superior air.
“Oh, I will maintain my virtue, have no doubt of that. My husband will be the only one worthy of me. He will be the only one capable of keeping up with my passion.
“And when it’s my turn I will have stories that will send shivers up your spine,” Cydippe said, running her fingers up Psyche’s back.
Psyche gasped and pulled away.
Aglaura watched Psyche as she tried to regain her composure after Cydippe’s teasing.
Psyche really was quite innocent.
“What about you, Psyche?” Aglaura asked, eager for a change of subject. “What would you want in a husband?”
Psyche looked startled.
“Me?” Psyche said.
“Yes, silly,” Cydippe said, joining in. “Mother and Father are hoping you’ll bring the best match of us all, though I can’t see how. You hardly draw any attention to yourself.”
Looking at Psyche, Aglaura couldn’t ignore the fact that Psyche really could have any man falling at her feet. And not just the weak-minded villagers — but kings, rulers, men of great power.
Maybe even the gods.
Psyche didn’t seem to care.
Psyche’s older sisters flanked her in front of the mirror as Psyche considered herself. Aglaura moved aside a stray hair while Cydippe adjusted the folds in Psyche’s dress.
Psyche knew her parents had high expectations for her, though she didn’t understand why. They already had Aglaura and Cydippe to bring enough fame and fortune to the kingdom. They were far better skilled at making themselves attractive and navigating the labyrinth of nobility and their overly-complicated rules.
Psyche sighed.
“Whoever he is, I’m sure he won’t be as handsome as High King,” Psyche said. “He’s a good match for you, Aglaura.”
Psyche looked at Aglaura in the reflection and smiled.
Aglaura smiled back.
Psyche really was much more palatable than Cydippe. If only Psyche was around more.
“Thank you, Psyche,” Aglaura said.
The bride considered herself in the mirror again. All of her efforts had not been in vain. Her entire figure spoke of calculated perfection.
Cydippe looked at Aglaura. She was certainly beautiful, but there was too much stiffness for her taste.
Cydippe stole a glance at herself as well. She was glad she’d paid a quick visit to Aphrodite’s temple to thank the Goddess for her recent improvements. When it came time for her to wed, it would be the most memorable, most exciting event ever.
Oh, but one side of Cydippe’s hairstyle was bigger than the other.
Aglaura and Cydippe were soon back to ordering attendants and making the final touches before their grand entrance before the two kingdoms.
Psyche lingered in front of the mirror.
All of the riches and frills seemed excessive to her. Did a woman really need so many adornments? Did she need to ask the Goddess for more perfect curves?
According to Cydippe, every woman couldn’t fully shine without divine intervention.
That might be. Psyche didn’t know much about such things. She was struggling enough with the long list of needs and concerns in the kingdom.
So many people needed to feel loved, needed encouragement, needed to know they were loveable.
Her sisters didn’t seem to see things the way she did.
Psyche wondered.
Would a husband understand?
As Psyche followed her sisters out of the room, ready to take their places in the procession, she took heart in being the youngest. She still had time to focus on her work. She didn’t have to worry about husbands or duties or marriage.
At least, not yet.