Chapter 15

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Psyche lay on something warm, her consciousness somewhere in the space between awake and sleeping. 

She felt the veil lift from her face and something touched her lips. 

“There,” he said. “Now we are wed.” 

Psyche opened her eyes, her heart racing. 

Where was she? Was this the monster? Was she in his lair? What was he going to do to her??

She tried to look around the room, but it was too dark to see anything.

“You are most welcome,” he said. She could feel him move away from her and she tried to relax. “This is your new home and I hope you will like it.”

Psyche lay for a moment more before cautiously sitting up. 

“Are you my husband then?” Psyche asked, trying in vain to see through the darkness.

“I am,” he said.

Psyche waited. What should she say next? Her mind flooded with questions. 

Are you really a monster? 

Why do the gods fear you? 

Why have you taken me to be your wife? 

How did I get here? And where is “here” exactly? 

Was this a punishment for you too? Are you happy to be married? 

What is marriage like? 

Will we be finding that out together or are you the type to prefer your wife seen and not heard? 

Instead, she said, “I am Psyche. Thank you for having me.” 

Psyche softly groaned to herself. 

“Yes, I know you’re Psyche,” he said. 

He seemed to be smiling. Was he trying not to laugh at her? 

Psyche struggled with what to say next. 

“And you are…?” she decided to say.

“I am simply your husband,” he said.

Psyche frowned.

“May I not know your name?” she said.

“No,” he said. 

That was puzzling. Why couldn’t she know his name? 

“Now,” he said, his voice beginning to move, “I’m sure you’re wondering where you are. You are in my palace. Here, things work differently than in the mortal world. It’s best I explain.”

Different than in the mortal world? What did he mean? Was she in the realm of monsters?? In Tartarus???

“Life is what you make it. Literally,” he said. “Here you learn to let things grow and reach their full potential. It just depends on what your heart desires and what you’re ready for.”

That was not what she was expecting. So — likely not Tartarus.

“As such,” he said, “you will come to understand this place gradually. I’ll help guide you as best I can, but a lot of it will depend on you, Psyche.”

“Will depend on me?” she said, confused.

“Yes. You have to know what you are ready for,” he said. “You have to be open to what is possible and embrace your full potential.”

She tried to understand.

“This is all very strange,” she said.

“I know,” he said. “And I’m sorry. But in time you’ll come to understand.”

“It is so strange talking to you in the dark like this,” she said, noticing he had moved again. She was struggling to keep track of what he was saying and follow his movements.  

“Oh, well,” he said sadly. “There is one rule you might find hard to accept at first, but hopefully you’ll get used to it in time. We won’t be allowed to have light during the evenings, and, um, evening is the only time I can be here with you.”

“Why?” Psyche asked.

“It’s the only way we can be together,” he said. 

That didn’t make sense. If she was now his wife, his to do with as he wished, why wouldn’t they be able to be together — light or dark? Why couldn’t they see each other?

“I don’t understand,” Psyche said. “Is it because of how you look? Do you think I won’t love you, can’t love you because you’re a monster?”

“No,” he said kindly. “It’s not that. I know you’d be able to love me no matter how I looked.” 

Psyche felt even more puzzled.

“How do you know that?” Psyche said.

“I just do,” he said. 

None of this was making sense. 

“So why the darkness?” she said.

“Because, it’s the only way,” he said. 

“Where will you be during the daytime hours?” she asked, trying to think of something to say.

“Doing other things,” he said casually. 

“Oh,” she said. 

“Don’t worry. Time will pass pleasantly and then we can be together in the evenings,” he said.

“But it must always be dark?” she said.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. In fact, Psyche, you must never light a torch, a lamp, not even a candle — ever,” he said.

She sat, puzzled.

Why?

“I had better explain what you can expect when you wake up tomorrow,” he said, getting back to business. “It’s going to take some getting used to living here.” 

She tried to focus. 

“Tomorrow when you wake, you will wake up to an environment based on your own expectations, based on what you’re ready for. It’s the first step, so I hope you don’t mind too much what you see,” he said.

“What will I see?” she asked.

“I’m not quite sure,” he said. “But don’t worry. Over time, you’ll master the ways of this world and I think you’ll like it here. I’m pretty sure you will.”  

There was a smile in his voice again. This time it seemed hopeful.  

“I still don’t understand,” she said. 

“Well, some things are best understood by experiencing them,” he said. “I wish I could make the process easier for you, but I don’t see any other way to really help you.” 

He wanted to help her. 

He seemed nice. 

Not quite the monster the oracle seemed to say he was. At least, not quite the punishment she had expected. 

“Well, Psyche, you should probably get some rest,” he said. “We’ll have more time tomorrow night to talk. We’ll likely have more to talk about too.

“Good night.” 

“Good night,” she said, absently. 

This was all just so strange.  

She sat in the silence for a while. He had sounded kind, and there was something in the way he said her name that spoke of familiarity. 

He seemed to know her. 

He knew that she didn’t mind outward appearances, but how? How did he know? 

And did she know him? She couldn’t recall having met any other-worldly creatures, but it was said that they hid among humans. 

What kind of creature was he? The Goddess could not have meant for her to have married someone kind, could she? There had to be something she was missing. 

Something that gave reason for the dark. 

But what?? 

What was he hiding? 

Psyche couldn’t help imagining all sorts of dreaded possibilities. She felt her fear rise as her imagination continued to take hold and drag her across the images. He was a creature of the night, tormenting people while they slept. He would lure victims with his soft voice and his kind words, only to entrap them and eat them alive. 

She fumbled in the dark and found a blanket. She pulled it tightly around her. 

Perhaps she would wake to a cave full of the bones of his past victims. His charm and enchantment masking the stench.

She couldn’t breathe. She gasped for air as she tried to calm her fears. 

She was going to die. This marriage was a sick and twisted ritual of death. Couldn’t he just kill her quickly? Put her out of her misery??

Why did he have to be so cruel?

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