Chapter 11

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Psyche stood behind an enormous wall which had been erected at the edge of the shrine’s reasonably-sized courtyard. Aglaura had completely transformed that corner of the pilgrimage space into a beautiful stage. 

Attendants and carpenters had hung folds upon folds of light flowy fabric. Large wooden boxes had been constructed to provide soil for transplanted trees and flowers from the gardens and stood in various positions around the stage. Torches, lamps, and candles had been placed on stands and dispersed throughout the area to provide sufficient “mood” lighting which would bring out Psyche’s cheek bones and improved figure. 

Psyche was still struggling with all of the effort and extravagance. 

But her sisters had been right not to cancel the event.

The Festival of Psyche had been in full swing the last few days and it seemed to brighten everyone’s mood. Worshippers from all over the world had traveled to participate. The villagers had happily decorated their businesses and homes in honor of their dear princess. 

Psyche obediently lifted her arms as Cydippe instructed the attendants to adjust another ornament on her costume. 

The costume had gotten so ostentatious — and heavy — that Psyche insisted that something had to go. Cydippe grumbled, but had agreed to change the rather enormous headdress of feathers, sparkling gems, a veil, and lots of flowing ribbons and bows. 

Psyche now wore a few simple flowers and a veil. 

Of course she had to wear a veil. 

As if there was any wonder what this whole event was really about. 

Psyche didn’t mind. She was happy she’d been able to write her own song. She’d had some help from the lyricist and musicians. There had been some complaining from the professionals, but it came together into something Psyche liked.

Now, looking at the enormous crowd, she worried she might have made the song too simple. 

“Make the front a little lower,” Cydippe instructed the attendants, bringing Psyche’s attention back to the preparations. Cydippe stood back to examine Psyche’s whole ensemble. 

The attendant started lowering the front of the dress.

“No, that’s too low,” Psyche said, pulling the drape back up. 

Cydippe rolled her eyes. 

“Psyche, we’ve already been through this,” Cydippe said. “You have to show a little bit more of your body if you hope to tempt a suitor. There is no man who can resist a little look of what he could have if he married you.”

Psyche didn’t care.  It made her uncomfortable to have her dress reveal so much.

Fortunately Aglaura walked by on her way to giving instructions to the stage attendants. 

“Aglaura!” Psyche said, hoping her eldest sister would help. 

“What?” Aglaura said, turning to address the unwelcome interruption. “I need to make sure these gardeners place the vines perfectly. They have them hanging too low.” 

“Isn’t the front of this dress hanging too low?” Psyche said, almost pleading. 

“If it’s any higher,” Cydippe said, “she’ll hardly show anything. She needs to catch a suitor’s eye.” 

Aglaura tilted her head and examined Psyche. 

“Well, aside from the fact that you have way too much already catching the eye,” Aglaura said, making Cydippe bristle slightly, “I think it’s too low. You don’t want to make her look desperate, Cydippe.” 

Cydippe glared at Aglaura. 

“Well, make sure the flowers are far enough away from the stage. With all of that fragrance and pollen, I don’t want the performers caught in any sneezing fits,” Cydippe said. 

Aglaura tossed her head and walked away, barking orders about the vines. Seconds later they heard Aglaura’s voice order the movement of the flowers as well. 

Cydippe smiled and turned to Psyche. 

“You look radiant. You look beautiful. You are going to do so well, I have no doubt,” Cydippe said.

Psyche felt better as the attendant secured the front of the dress higher, but she still couldn’t calm her nerves.

“How do you do it?” Psyche said plainly.

“Do what?” Cydippe said, raising an eyebrow.

“How do you calm yourself well enough to go on stage and perform?” Psyche said. 

Cydippe laughed. 

“It’s not so hard,” Cydippe said. “I just remember what I’m there to do. I’m there to bring joy, bring light and life to an otherwise dreary world. Love and beauty inspires. 

“You will be bringing joy to the village, Psyche. I know how much you care about them and I know how hard it’s been with the loss of your little friend. Just think of them. Perform for the villagers. The rest will take care of itself.”

Psyche smiled. For all of Cydippe’s chiding and criticism, she made Psyche feel better.

Aglaura joined them. 

“I think everything is ready,” she said, slightly breathless. 

Aglaura looked at Psyche. 

“This is your moment,” she said. “This is your chance to draw in as many as you can to your beauty and brilliance. You look lovely. You will do well, I’m sure of it.”

Aglaura and Cydippe had done so much for her; had arranged and orchestrated everything. 

Psyche took a breath and joined her sisters in a big hug. 

They could hear the announcer welcoming everyone and Aglaura and Cydippe moved to find their seats on an elevated podium beside the king and queen. 

The vocal trainer stepped beside her and led her to where she could do some breathing exercises. It helped her warm up and calm down. 

“Princess, you’re next,” an attendant said a while later. 

Psyche steadied herself.

It didn’t matter who her future husband would be. 

This performance would be for the people. 

Psyche stepped onto the platform and drew in a breath. 

“My people,” Psyche’s voice rang out strong and clear, “honored guests and distinguished visitors. I thank you all for joining us in these days of festivities. I thank my sisters, Queen Aglaura and Lady Cydippe for their hard work and vision for this grand event. It is by their efforts that we come to enjoy this lovely evening. 

“Recently our kingdom suffered a great loss. With a prayer to Apollo, we honor this young woman and all who have gone before her through song.”

Psyche nodded to the musicians and began to sing.

(song)

(instrumental only)

Now that you’re gone
I —
Find myself asking
Why — ?

Why does
This darkness
Keep pulling
Me down?

Down, down, down 
Feel there’s no control
No sunlight
Can reach my soul

Trying to be
Light and happy
I can’t
Will I lose my soul?

Closing your eyes
Now rest
Is this a kind of 
Test?

There’s no 
Way through it
I’m trying 
Alone

Must reach out
Through the growing dark
Must be there
Some struggling spark

Look, sunrise
Through darkest night
The light
Can it save my soul?

Breath coming easier 
Now
I feel a change
But how?

Who am
I really?
Who will I 
Become?

Growing strength
Deep within my soul
Can’t explain
Miracle

Power to see
What we’re meant to be
There’s more
Feel it in my soul

I’ll see your light
Shining so bright
One day
Brings peace to my soul.

The audience sat in quiet silence for a moment. Tears streaked most of the faces. 

Psyche gracefully extended her hands out and made a full body curtsey as Cydippe had instructed her. She didn’t extend her chest quite as far down as she was supposed to, but Psyche didn’t care. 

She stood smiling for a moment, staying the tide of her own tears with the adrenaline still pumping through her. 

She had done it. She had sung a tribute to a light which would always shine in their village. Death couldn’t extinguish it. 

Psyche exited the platform and made her way to where the other performers waited. She had been the last to perform, and she wasn’t sure where else to go. She could hear the announcer thanking everyone for coming.

Some of the performers were wiping away tears as she joined them. 

“That was beautiful,” someone whispered. 

Psyche bowed her head in humble thanks. 

She had several minutes to catch her breath and recover her nerves before her sisters joined her.

They both approached Psyche with troubled expressions. 

“What’s wrong?” Psyche asked. 

“I don’t understand it,” Aglaura said, sincerely baffled. 

“What?” Psyche said, confused.

“Not one. Not a single one,” Aglaura said, lost in her own thoughts. 

“Not one what?” Psyche asked.

“Not a single suitor is interested, Psyche,” Cydippe said, quietly. “In fact, every one of them was sleeping in the audience. Sleeping! It doesn’t make sense. For what it’s worth, I think you performed rather well. You looked beautiful, and that was a lovely song. A fine tribute to your young friend.”

“Thank you,” Psyche said. 

It felt good to have Cydippe’s approval. 

“What now?” Psyche asked.

“It’s mathematically and logically impossible that after all of our efforts, there is still not a single suitor for you,” Aglaura said. 

“Maybe it’s something beyond the logical and mathematical,” Cydippe said.

“Like what?” Aglaura said, unable to fathom such a notion. 

“We all live at the will of the gods,” Cydippe said. “Maybe it’s the gods’ will that Psyche not marry.”

“Could it be?” Aglaura said, examining Psyche. “Is she not meant to marry at all?”

“There is one way we could find out,” Cydippe said. 

“How?” Psyche asked. 

“Psyche, you must go to the temple of Apollo and inquire of the oracle. He will tell us the will of the gods,” Cydippe said. 

The oracle of Apollo?? Psyche thought. That pompous, puffed up old — old –. 

Psyche tried to think kinder thoughts. But the oracle of Apollo deliberately favored the wealthy and had almost convinced the lower class that the gods cared nothing for them.

“The oracle of Apollo?” Psyche said. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, yes. He’s very powerful,” Cydippe said. 

“But he doesn’t like me,” Psyche said. “I doubt he’ll speak to me.” 

“Go with an offering he can’t refuse,” Aglaura said, shrugging. 

In other words, “buy” an audience with the oracle.

Psyche grimaced. 

She’d rather stay single.  

“It’s the only way to know for sure,” Cydippe said. 

Psyche sighed.

“Alright, I’ll go,” Psyche said.

The kingdom had been ill at ease with the question of who Psyche would marry. 

It was time to know the will of the gods. 

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