Chapter 40

Back to chapter menu     
Chapter 39      Chapter 41

Eros itched in his billowy robes.

And his flabby skin. 

Playing the part of Apollo’s oracle was probably Eros’s worst idea yet. 

Everything made his skin crawl. The excessiveness of Apollo’s temple, the statue of Apollo, the pomp and ceremony everyone gave the oracle, the decorations, the lighting, the attendants.

Everything. 

Playing the part of the grumpy, self-important oracle — under such circumstances — was therefore quite easy. He just hoped he wouldn’t be too grumpy to talk to Psyche.  

He’d found a way to occupy the real oracle by presenting him with some food which upset his stomach so much, he’d excused himself to retire to his private chambers — and to his private toilet. 

Eros waited a decent amount of time before emerging again, as the oracle, telling the attendants he felt better. 

The real oracle was still in agony. 

Well, the feeling was mutual.

He hoped Psyche would arrive soon. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could stand. 

He nodded with false politeness at a passing attendant as he stood and waited. 

He’d picked a perfect vantage point; a position where he didn’t have to see Apollo’s statue, but he could still get a peak at the entrance. 

His heart leapt as he saw Psyche enter with some of the temple attendants. 

He tried to compose himself as an attendant approached him. 

“Princess Psyche to see you, Holy One,” the attendant said. 

Who had come up with that title??

Eros grimaced. 

As he walked, he tried to get into character.

He was a conceited, fat oracle who hated Psyche. He resented the worship she received and would have immediately thought of a long list of vile suitors to present to his mother as punishment. 

He entered the receiving room where the attendants had left Psyche to wait. 

She sat in perfect stillness, her eyes closed. She looked so peaceful. 

Eros had a feeling he wouldn’t play his part very well. 

“Princess Psyche? You wanted to talk to me?” he said, approaching her.

Psyche opened her eyes and looked up at him.

Looking directly at her made him half-doubt his disguise. Did she know it was not the real oracle? 

Psyche awkwardly stood and extended a gift to him.

“Thank you for seeing me,” Psyche said. 

Of course the oracle would be expecting a payment of some kind, so he accepted the gift and made the whole thing quickly disappear into the folds of his robes. 

The real oracle would never see even a hint of her offering.

“Shall we sit?” Eros said.

Psyche seemed confused by his invitation, but she sat down anyway.

Eros, noting that Psyche already seemed suspicious, decided to just enjoy the conversation. 

“What is it you wanted to talk about?” the oracle said. 

“I — I wanted to ask,” Psyche said. “What is the gods’ will for me?” 

“Why ask me?” the oracle said. 

There were so many other wise people she could ask. 

“You are the most powerful of the oracles, serving the god Apollo, god of prophecy,” Psyche said. “It would make sense that I come to you to know the gods’ will.”

Eros couldn’t hide a grimace. 

That made Psyche frown. 

“Do you already know?” Psyche said, concerned. “Have I displeased the gods?”

Eros tried to think of how to put her at ease. 

“I would be honored to ask Apollo whether you have displeased any of the gods,” he said. “But I wonder. Do you think you have displeased them?”

Psyche thought for a minute

“I admit nothing immediately comes to mind,” Psyche said. 

Eros felt a sense of relief. He was glad she wasn’t too hard on herself. She did a lot of good things. 

Then he noticed a change in her face. 

“What?” Eros said, unable to hold back his curiosity.

“It’s nothing,” Psyche said.

He couldn’t miss this opportunity to find out what she was thinking. 

“I’m interested,” the pretend oracle said. 

His interest clearly confused Psyche, but Eros didn’t care. Luckily whatever was passing through her mind, she decided to answer. 

Psyche took a breath. 

“Remember when you denounced me as a false goddess?” Psyche said, carefully.

Eros hated the reminder he couldn’t just talk to her directly. Why did they have to have this conversation through the means of this pompous oracle?

“Yes,” Eros said, trying to hide his irritation. “And?” 

Psyche paused for a moment. 

Eros tried to wait patiently for more of her answer. 

“Well, it does come to mind that perhaps you were right,” Psyche said. “Well, thinking about it, I know you’re right. I am no goddess, nor have I ever pretended to be. But the people often search for an explanation for things, and somehow they’ve given the credit to me.

“Could that be the cause of the anger of the gods? That I’ve been worshipped and taken credit for their blessings?” 

Finally! A real conversation. 

Eros couldn’t miss a chance to find out some of the things he’d been trying to puzzle out. 

“Why have you taken credit?” he asked. “Why have you allowed yourself to be worshipped?”

Eros hoped his questions wouldn’t make her defensive. Then the conversation would be worthless. 

She thought for a moment.

“I was so young when it all started. I’m trying to remember,” she said. “I had always taken an interest in helping people and people brought little things to say ‘thank you’. I didn’t want to turn those precious tokens away. The early ones were people I knew well. 

“I think people talked and the whole thing just grew so big I — I didn’t know what to do.” 

“Things have grown to a considerable size,” Eros said, wanting to keep digging deeper. “Didn’t we celebrate you in the recent festival?” 

That made Psyche wince.

He felt sorry, but he just had to know from her own words just how much of this blasphemy was of her own making.  

“That wasn’t supposed to be about me,” Psyche said. “Well, it was at first. I mean, the idea came about because we couldn’t figure out what to do about the difficulty of finding someone to marry me. The festival was just a way to attract more suitors.

“But I tried to change the festival into a celebration of something else. My sisters were convinced that by keeping the festival about me, we would be able to attract a better suitor.”

Psyche frowned.

“You seem sad,” he said. 

“I am,” Psyche said.

“Are you sad because you didn’t get a suitor?” he said.

“Oh, no. It’s not that,” Psyche said. 

“So what is it?” he asked. 

“I just wish — I wish I had done something. I wish I had been strong enough to push back and refuse the worship. I wish I had been smart enough to point people back to worshipping the gods, where true worship belongs. I wish I hadn’t gotten so swept up in everyone’s eagerness for visitors, in entertaining everyone, in people’s needs, in the troubles and heartbreaking stories. I wish I had refused to go along with this whole ridiculous thing,” Psyche said. “I wish I had done things differently.” 

Eros knew none of this was really her fault. How could she have refused to help people? How could she have turned them away? Said no? 

Certainly not without help. 

Eros suddenly had a slightly different question. 

“What do you wish for yourself?” he said. 

“Me?” Psyche said, surprised. “I don’t know.”

“If you could,” the oracle said, “what would you do to fix the current state of things?” 

Could she help him figure out what to do? 

“I don’t know,” Psyche said. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.” 

As she spoke, an idea came to his own mind. 

An idea that would solve everything. 

“Well,” the pretend oracle said, rising. “Perhaps we should start by asking Apollo. He will certainly have some answers. I’ll bring your troubles to him and send word to the palace when He answers.” 

“Thank you” Psyche said, also standing.

The oracle gave a polite bow and excused himself.

As he walked away, he felt a rush of excitement as the solution to all of their problems began to settle more firmly in his mind. 

Aphrodite wanted Psyche to marry a monster, did she?

He knew of one. 

One feared by gods and men.

Back to chapter menu     
Chapter 39      Chapter 41