Young Psyche made a wish. She prayed that she would never be violated by those hideous males.
Psyche's mother spoke.
“Youth is precious, and one’s prime is cruel. Beautiful Psyche, the gods must cherish you to have granted you such a beautiful body. But the hand that reaps that blessing is surely divine as well; perhaps you are cursed.”
Psyche wondered. How could this be called a curse?
“What do you think, Nurse?”
As she always did, Psyche rested her head on the nurse’s thigh and closed her eyes quietly. The nurse ran her fingers through Psyche’s honey-colored, lusciously curling hair, lost in recollection.
“I too was once beautiful. There was a time when all the young men of the village vied to court me. But the one my father chose was an old, greedy landlord who would pay off our family debts. His armpits reeked of swine, and his mouth full of yellowed teeth smelled of rotting corpses. The countless dark warts and growths on his face, which wrinkled like a chrysalis whenever he smiled, were horrid just to look at. The first night I was violated by him… how could I ever forget that pain? For fifteen years thereafter, I bore eight children. Yet only three survived. Then one day, while doing laundry, I glimpsed my reflection in the water and screamed in shock. There was an ugly, aged woman. The skin that had once been lovely was shriveled and sun-burnt, my hair was dry and turned white, and my purple lips were cracked and split. It was unbelievable that there had ever been a time when young men lined up desiring those lips… Do you believe me, my lady?”
“Believe what?”
“That I am not yet forty-two.”
“What?”
Psyche raised her head in surprise. The nurse’s eyes were moist with tears as she smiled sadly.
“That is what beauty is. It is a powerful weapon capable of charming others more than any organ or ability a human may possess, yet the sense of loss when it fades is cruel beyond compare. Youth is much the same. Is not one’s teens the time when the joy of being alive, the sparkle of life, is felt most intensely? So, my lady, cherish this very moment. They say a human who holds beauty and youth in both hands bears the closest likeness to the gods. Yet the gods consider that blasphemous and never allow it to last long.”
“Then shall I too become like you someday?”
With a face as pale as a white sheet, Psyche touched her own cheek. Her hands trembled in fear as she checked whether her soft lips had cracked like the nurse’s, whether wrinkles had formed on her cheeks and forehead.
“I am afraid, Nurse. If I could, I would lock this beauty away in that jar and hide it tightly. No, I would rather lie in a coffin and fall into an eternal, ageless slumber. I do not wish to marry. Men are all ugly, foul-smelling, selfish creatures. Every man who came to offer me flowers and jewels was the same. To think I must press my lips to theirs and mingle my body with theirs—I would rather turn to stone and die just as I am now.”
“My poor lady…”
Psyche sobbed in the nurse’s arms. The nurse, who had been gazing down at her with pity, finally spoke with difficulty.
“I did hear such a tale when I was young. There is a food that grants eternal youth and the beauty of a goddess.”
“Is there such a thing?”
“It is a story passed down as legend. It is a dish favored by the gods; if one eats it, one supposedly obtains an immortal body and can even steal the gods’ beauty. Those who wish to taste it gather at a sacred shrine and perform secret rites, offering lavish sacrifices to summon the gods. Then, pleased, the gods appear and let them taste their food.”
Psyche’s eyes, which had been focusing on the tale as if drawn into it, grew wide.
“Where is it? How can I go there?”
“That I do not know either.”
“Where did you hear this story, Nurse?”
“It was told to me by an old priest in the village where I lived as a child. I believe it was a rumor passed among the priests.”
Priests, priestesses, immortality, eternal beauty…
For a moment, Psyche felt as if her mind had cleared. Why had she not thought of it before? If she became a priestess serving the gods, she need not marry. And was it not rumored that some priests lived lives close to eternal through supernatural power?
“My lady?”
Psyche sprang to her feet and cried out as if having made a resolution.
“I shall become a priestess!”
But she, who was only fifteen, did not know. Her father had no intention of sending his only daughter to a temple. He intended to marry his daughter of outstanding beauty to a good family and elevate his house further.
More years passed. Psyche delayed and delayed marriage using all manner of excuses. The more she did so, the more young men overflowed who wished to have her. More gifts poured forth. Psyche’s father thought he could delay his daughter’s marriage no longer. He sought to gain some advantage from his daughter’s wedding by leveraging his position as head of the senate.
Then, Ananke, the goddess of fate, smiled a mischievous smile and turned her wheel. She twisted and untangled the white threads of Psyche’s life this way and that… The threads winding her life became tangled every which way so that their end could not be known.
“Substituting Persephone? Have you lost your mind? Do you really think that was for Psyche’s sake?”
“I can do anything for my daughter! Are you the one in your right mind? Power has driven you mad—how could you think of sending our daughter as a tribute maiden to that barbaric land? Have you forgotten what kind of monster the king of Hades is? Have you forgotten what Thanatos and that cruel army did to this land? Was there even one Persephone who returned after being sent across the River Styx? Could you go there of your own free will? Why ask our child to do what you yourself cannot? The substituted girl also came back dead. That could have been our Psyche!”
“Do you think I sent her because I wanted to? What do you expect me to do when she was chosen by lottery!”
“Lottery? Do you think I don’t know that you and the senate manipulated it so Psyche would be chosen? Did you really think our child would catch the eye of the king of Hades and command the world? Are you a fool?”
“Don’t forget that this fool is the head of this country’s senate. My intuition has never failed! Psyche had to go to Hades; that child was born for a wondrous fate! She is not one to live an ordinary life in Demeter!”
“Because that fortune-teller said so? Unbelievable…”
“Watch your tongue. Not a fortune-teller—a prophetess who conveys oracles. The Pythia of Delphi said so! That Psyche was fated to be bound to the god of darkness and become his bride…”
The wife regarded her husband with contemptuous eyes. The husband beat his chest and cried out as though stifled.
“Because of what you did, not only Psyche but all of us are now going to die! The house itself is going to be ruined! Do you know how furious His Majesty is?”
The wife, standing with arms crossed, fired back incredulously.
“How is this because of what I did? It is because of your greed, blinded by money and power, that tried to sacrifice even your own daughter. I do not regret what I did in the slightest.”
“Where is Psyche? Bring her here at once! Have her brought before me!”
“Our daughter is dead.”
“What?”
“She is dead. You won’t find her anywhere. She died of illness and was cremated the very next day.”
“What nonsense is that? What illness could she possibly have? Ha, are you really doing this? Where did you hide her? If you keep acting like this, I won’t forgive you even if you are my wife! Deceiving your husband is going too far… Do you want to die by my hand before the soldiers arrive?”
“Try killing me, then!”
“Oh, this woman!”
The husband’s hand finally rose. The wife stepped backward and secretly passed the clay tablet she was holding behind her. Then the nurse, who had been hiding in the passage connecting to the kitchen, quickly received it and hurriedly fled the mansion.
Soon, a crash! The sound of shattering pottery burst from within the mansion. Startled servants gathered, whispering among the corridors.
The wife screamed. The sound of several slaps rang out, and the more he struck her, the more she wailed at him to do worse.
The husband, who had been throwing and breaking everything within reach, finally sobbed and tore at his hair.
“It’s all over! We are as good as dead now…”
Glancing behind her, the nurse boarded a wagon leaving the mansion and hid herself.
“Old man, you’re going to the grain market? Let me off along the way.”
“Where are you going?” asked the old man driving the donkey with a puzzled expression. The nurse waved her hand for him to ask no more.
The capital city of Demeter, Side, began on flat land and converged on a low hill where the royal palace stood; the foot of the hill leading to the palace was the city’s south gate and the place where Gaia’s sacred shrine had once been. Around it lay a holy spring where the sick still came to draw and drink water.
Side had four gates: east, west, south, and north. The east gate was called the Gate of Heaven, or the Gate of Uranus. The west gate was called the Gate of Fate, or the Gate of Ananke; the south gate was called the Gate of Earth, or the Gate of Gaia. The last, the north gate, was called the Gate of Time, or the Gate That Has Lost Its Name. However, it was said to be the oldest gate.
Inside the enclosure protected by the four gates and walls, there was a market in the center, but not just anyone could sell goods. Only merchants licensed by the state set up shops and sold designated wares. Calling them shops was generous—they were merely roofs of animal hide or willow branches over wooden stands.
The grain market was separate; here, they mostly sold vegetables and wine, terracotta and women’s cosmetics, cloth and gold-leaf wreaths used for funerals.
As dawn broke, a small figure headed to a fishmonger’s. A boy with willow leaves tucked in his hair bought two salt-cured mackerel and then ran to a nearby wine shop. The straw-wrapped fish dangled and swayed in his fern-like grasp.
A pot-bellied wine merchant had his feet up on a wooden cask, holding a protruding spout. He showed off his sturdy forearms as he poured grape juice into a jar on the floor.
“Oh, a child from the temple. What’s the matter?”
“The wine for the god’s offering has run out. Please give me one pithos of wine.”
“Very well, I’ll bring you my finest. Tell Priest Clitie that it will arrive shortly after noon.”
“Yes, thank you.”
The boy ran expertly around the muddy puddles scattered on the unpaved road. He was heading for the east gate, where stood the temple of Demeter’s patron and ancestral goddess, Gaia. The grand temple, the largest in the kingdom, had no space to step at its entrance, always overflowing with flowers and offerings from devotees.
“Lady Semele!”
Psyche, who had been sweeping in the olive garden, lowered the cloth from her head and turned around at the call of her name. The child who had returned from the dawn market stood smiling, a fish in one hand and wildflowers in the other.
“An errand for Priest Clitie?”
The boy shouted his reply as if the garden might fly away.
“Yes! The offering wine ran out! Oh, are you managing this place now, Lady Semele?”
“Yes, I’ve been put in charge of it now. My instructing priestess told me to take good care of the trees so they don’t wither.”
The olive trees she managed numbered twelve, transplanted from cuttings of the royal palace’s olive trees.
The olive oil obtained from the fruit was offered as a prize to the victor of the festival held at the annual harvest ceremony. The royal palace’s olive trees were said to have been planted by the Great Goddess herself, so the oil from the temple’s olive trees was greatly prized.
“This is for you, Lady Semele. I saw these blooming by the road and was going to offer them to the Great Goddess, but then I thought of you.”
The boy handed her a bundle of wildflowers, smiling shyly.
Here, her name was Semele. She had been called so for several weeks, but she still sometimes forgot to answer. Thanks to that, rumors had unintentionally spread that she was deaf.
What’s the use of a pretty face if she’s deaf? She was pitied and received looks of compassion even from the boy servants.
Had she been any other priestess, she would have been scolded for receiving flowers from a young attendant, but she was the exception. Having lost her parents and become an orphan on top of not hearing well—how unfortunate!
“Oh, someone came looking for you outside.”
“For me?”
“Yes, it was a face I’d never seen before. I don’t think they were a devotee.”
Psyche patted the boy’s shoulder and sent him away, then headed for the side gate where wagons passed through.
“My lady!”
“Nurse? What brings you here?”
The nurse, her head wrapped in an outer garment to the crown, was in disarray. Straw and grain stuck to the bridge of her nose and cheeks, her sandals were worn through to the soles, and her exposed insteps were caked in filth and mud.
“Take this.”
A sealed clay tablet was pressed into her hand. The wrinkled hand, reluctant to let go of Psyche’s after so long, held tight and stroked the back of her hand.
“Oh my, look how rough these hands have become. The skin that was once smooth as silk is all ruined.”
“It can’t be helped. Still, since I’m inside the temple, my face is safe from damage.”
How it broke her heart. The young lady she had raised cherishing even more than her own child.
“Have you ever been discovered or suspected?”
“Fortunately, no one knows. I stay deep inside the temple, so I never encounter visitors or devotees. Everyone thinks I’m deaf, so they don’t assign me tasks that would expose me to outsiders.”
“That’s a relief. Listen well, my lady. The one who was sent as the false Persephone has been exposed. She returned dead in a terrible state. Because of that, the house is in chaos. The master shouted at the mistress, demanding she reveal where you are….”
“She came back dead?”
The mother had approached a girl who wandered the streets selling her body, offering her grain, leather, and two pigs.
“Would you go to Hades in place of my daughter?”
The sixteen-year-old girl, thinking of her invalid mother and younger siblings, nodded quickly. Not even knowing that was the price of her life….
“The king of Hades slew the false Persephone in anger and sent her corpse back on a cart. It so happened that the Anasa who had come to Cocytus witnessed that gruesome sight. They say the king of Hades demanded that next, one of the three princesses be sent as Persephone. So the third princess, who served as a priestess in Cocytus, went as Persephone? Both His Majesty and Princess Chiane, the next Anasa, are enraged and have ordered the master’s immediate arrest.”
Psyche hid her hands in her sleeves. Her clasped hands trembled. The matter had grown far larger than she had thought.
“What of Mother? What did she say she would do?”
“How should I know? Would it not be fortune enough if she keeps her life? Forget about the house now. It is a place unrelated to you. You are recorded as having died of illness. Even if the palace suspects, they would not think to search this grand temple. This is the sacred ground of the Great Goddess, is it not? No one would dare commit such sacrilege. Not even the king of Demeter. So you must hide here tightly. You must live as a priestess for the rest of your life.”
“For life?”
“Was that not what you desired, my lady?”
Fear swept over her like a wave pulling her under. Her house was among the most noble of the aristocracy. A life where everything was possible simply by being the head of the senate’s daughter. Yet now she must live as a lowly nothing.
“The master has secretly given the high priest enormous wealth all this time. Because the mistress documented each bribe and obtained the high priest’s seal, she has held that as leverage to thoroughly guarantee your safety. Oh, you must read this clay tablet and break it immediately. It bears the mistress’s personal seal, so it is dangerous should it be leaked.”
“Can’t you stay with me, Nurse?”
“I cannot. I too shall depart. I don’t know where I’ll go, but even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. It is better that we don’t meet. Unlike you, who stayed only within the house, I know everyone here. Please take care, my lady. The Great Goddess will watch over your future.”
Though it was their final farewell, the two could only steal away their tears without a single embrace. Psyche had never been an emotional person by nature, but she had deep affection for the nurse who had raised her. Now that she could not rely even on her, a corner of her heart felt suffocated.
She descended to the storage room and, after glancing around, broke the seal on the clay tablet. The double-fired tablet was densely packed with writing from a reed pen. From the handwriting, it appeared to be a letter from her mother.
*Psyche, time is short. I have a premonition that I may not be able to embrace you one last time. My only, precious daughter. The fact that you are devoting yourself at the grand temple is known only to myself, your nurse, and the high priest who has taken you in. Not even the palace would dare overturn Gaia’s grand temple. You always said you wished to live as a priestess. I do not know if this life is what you wanted, but I think I shall always miss you. Please live safely without drawing anyone’s eye. And watch for a chance to escape Demeter. There is no eternal secret in this world; someday your identity will be discovered. And if you are thinking of rescuing this mother of yours, you must absolutely not. Close your eyes, cover your ears, and live as if you know nothing. My poor child, I love you. I pray the blessing of the Great Goddess will always be with you and your path.*
Once morning instruction ended, the priestesses headed to the storage room for their meal. Some seemed to be going to the agora, perhaps skipping afternoon lessons, as they went outside the temple. The priests noticed but said nothing, for they were children of noble houses.
Psyche took a place beside the instructing priestess, skipping even her meal to pray. Her expression was blank. Her gaze was empty, as if devoid of thought.
The statue of Gaia holding an ear of wheat looked down upon the two of them benevolently. The instructing priestess narrowed her eyes and glanced at Psyche. Her behavior, different from usual, was disconcerting.
Then Psyche abruptly asked:
“You said you are from Cocytus, did you not?”
“To be precise, a village near it… but one could say so.”
Among those who served the gods, it was customary not to ask about one’s origins or past. In particular, a priestess asking a priest a personal question was among the greatest taboos.
“Do you know much about Princess Asteril?”
The instructing priestess’s eyes narrowed into thin lines.
“The people of Side usually admire Princess Chiane the most, but I have always respected Princess Asteril the most.”
In that instant, the instructing priestess’s face brightened. She took Psyche’s hand and smiled joyfully.
“Oh my, is that so? Not only in Cocytus but in all the western regions, there is none young or old who does not know Lady Asteril’s name. She is called the Incarnation of Gaia, after all.”
“The Incarnation of Gaia?”
“We were going to teach this in the next lesson, but there are occasionally those among the priests who are born with special abilities. Unlike divine power, it is a mysterious force possessed from birth.”
Just how great was Princess Asteril’s renown for the strict instructing priestess to smile so warmly? She seemed genuinely pleased that Psyche had deep interest in Princess Asteril.
The instructing priestess briefly explained natural power. She did not forget to add that Princess Asteril was born with the strongest power among all priests historically.
“Lady Asteril’s healing power was called the blessing of Gaia because it could not be explained by any logic, but especially the people of Cocytus loved her so much they called her the Miracle of Cocytus. When an epidemic swept through the western regions, including Cocytus, several years ago, Lady Asteril saved dozens of lives. The princess has many followers even among our priests. If it weren’t for the head of the senate and his daughter, she would never have gone to that land of death….”
The fame of Psyche, worshipped as a living flower, was nothing compared to Princess Asteril. Especially in the western regions, it was said that Princess Asteril’s popularity was deeper than that of King Amphita, the current Anasa.
For generations, the western regions had accumulated discontent from being far from the capital, but after Princess Asteril went to Cocytus, attitudes toward the royal family had become quite favorable. Of course, the barely changed atmosphere seemed to have been dashed by this “Return of the Black Cart” incident.
“One never knows. The princess has an immortal body, so she may return safely…”
“An immortal body?”
The instructing priestess glanced sideways and lowered her voice.
“Nothing is certain, but there are more than one or two witnesses. It is said that Lady Asteril too was infected by the epidemic that swept Cocytus, but she recovered overnight. She was also said to have been unharmed by the three-day fever, a deathly sickness. Even if one survives the three-day fever, red blotches normally remain on the body. Moreover, it is said that even when she was cut by blades or burned by fire, she healed without a single scar—so if that is not an immortal body, what is?”
Psyche’s eyes gradually grew wider. She clasped her trembling hands behind her back to hide her excitement. The story she had heard from the nurse as a child flashed through her mind.
*It is a dish favored by the gods; if one eats it, one supposedly obtains an immortal body and can even steal the gods’ beauty.*
Could Princess Asteril have obtained that?
The food of the gods.
Psyche clasped the instructing priestess’s hands and pleaded softly:
“Ever since I was young, it has been my dream to become a priestess like Princess Asteril. How might I learn more about her?”
Ψ
The moon was red. Someone seemed to have sprinkled red liquor over its round surface.
“North Wind, did you know? In Demeter, many couples consummate their first night on a night when the moon rises red.”
Asteril, who had been leaning on the windowsill looking outside, smiled with a dimple showing.
On such nights, the temple was busy. Not only first nights, but those who wished for children also waited for this day.
The priests would take snake wine that had been steeped in red earthenware jars and pomegranate juice squeezed by hand, mix them, and distribute a cup to each devotee.
Snake wine was always steeped with a male and female pair.
One meant death, and two meant resurrection. The two snakes were Gaia’s totem symbolizing childbirth and fertility.
“Dawn and the moon couple; like a snake shedding its skin, the clouds disperse…”
The round song the children sang on Nepia Hill continued from morning until sunset. The children sang without understanding the meaning, but most of the lyrics were blatant or chilling.
“O pomegranate crushed by the goddess’s scream…”
Asteril, humming quietly, stared vacantly. Beyond the darkening sky, mother-of-pearl clouds tinged with purple were spreading.
“You dye the wicked moon red. Let the breath of pain become thick fog to cover nakedness.”
*Dawn and the moon couple;*
*Like a snake shedding its skin, the clouds disperse.*
*O pomegranate crushed by the goddess’s scream,*
*You dye the wicked moon red.*
*The breath of pain becomes thick,*
*Becoming fog to cover nakedness.*
The drizzle moistened the earth, and moonlight seeped along the map drawn by the wind.
The petals floating through the night scattered the buried fragrance of Lethe’s lord and came seeking her.
Asteril draped thin cloth over her shoulders and put on her sandals. The perfumed oil she was applying to her wrists dropped squarely onto her foot. As she debated wiping it, her gaze hurried toward the door.
“Forget it, let’s just go.”
Watching Asteril head toward the main palace, Melinoë opened her mouth with worried eyes.
“Spirit of the wind, are you watching? Though my eyes cannot see you, surely you can see me…”
North Wind, who had been following Asteril, glanced at the voice in surprise.
He could see Melinoë standing behind a pillar in the shaded corridor. Her gaze was lifted toward the empty air, as if she knew exactly where North Wind was.
Startled, North Wind approached her with a sullen expression.
“Go and watch over my comrade. In Aphrodisias, the red moon is considered an ill omen. By nature, the sun is the Mother Goddess and the moon is the Father God, so such a night is called the night when the Father God violated the Mother Goddess.”
The people of Aphrodisias believe that the god born on this day is Ananke, the goddess of fate. Thus, the red moon also signifies an unavoidable fate.
It seems Demeter and other countries pass down legends in different forms, but the primordial archetypes are likely all similar. Only the interpretations differ—positive in Demeter, negative in Aphrodisias.
“To meet the King of Hades on such a day….”
Melinoë bit her lip as if anxious. In her hand, she held moonflowers she had brought to give to Asteril.
Bukpung furrowed his brow as if troubled. Strangely enough, she seemed like a princess who somehow knew something.
As if having made a decision, he nodded and gently alighted on Melinoë’s shoulder.
Meanwhile, Asteril, having arrived at the garden of the main palace, walked about peering into the dark surroundings.
The field of Himeros was silent as the dead. Even when she drew near, they kept their mouths tightly shut and did not offer a single greeting.
Wondering what was wrong with those uncanny things, she deliberately bent down, but they pretended not to notice and swayed as though they were ordinary flowers.
Around the ash tree spring located in the center of the flower field, water mist bloomed like heat shimmers. Fog floating turbidly like vapor enshrouded the area in a mystical atmosphere.
Asteril sat astride a flat rock and dipped her hand into the cold spring water. Her pounding heart finally calmed a little.
“You could at least tell me when you’re going somewhere. After all, I’m the one in charge of Asphodelos. If you’re going to leave the palace empty for so long, shouldn’t you at least give me some notice?”
No matter that she was a noble lady, was she not a princess of a nation? That much should be common courtesy. Well, he was not the kind of great man from whom one could expect such things.
It was a mischievous heart she could not control herself. Like the profile of the moon that changes every hour. She grumbled at the king for no reason, projecting her feelings onto him.
“They say gods are fickle, don’t they? Could it have been a momentary whim? He doesn’t seem curious about me at all. Though it’s not like I’m terribly curious either….”
A sigh burst from her.
“Yes, to be honest, I do want to see you. Strangely, I keep thinking of you; you keep rising in my mind. Even though I’ve never properly seen your face once… I wonder why I’m like this…. Even I find it funny and strange.”
Right, Bukpung? As she turned to look over her shoulder, her pupils dilated in surprise.
Bukpung was nowhere to be seen. She had thought he followed.
“Bukpung?”
The garden, already submerged in pitch-black darkness, looked even darker. Neither birdsong nor the whispers of the garden trees could be heard.
The forest grows stranger the quieter it is. The silence of nature instinctively instills fear in humans. Yet conversely, the same was true for them.
They were silent because they were afraid.
For the past week, she had occasionally inquired about the whereabouts of the unseen king.
That fellow Bukpung would usually play dumb whenever asked, so she questioned the surrounding garden trees, but they too merely dismissed her, saying they did not know. Yet she could tell. That they were all hiding something.
Whether in the detached palace or the main palace, all natural beings waited tensely, as if expecting something.
She too could guess that it was about the red moon—today.
The atmosphere shifted as though every torch in the main palace had been lit. Asteril rose. She could intuit where to look. She need only look toward where the shrubs bent low.
He who appeared at the garden entrance was dressed in dazzling finery.
The white formal suit, made of the highest-quality fabric, was decorated with a gold-threaded belt, and over his shoulders was wrapped a luxurious purple Clarisse instead of the black tribon he usually wore.
The golden mask that covered Kal up to the tip of his nose gleamed, emitting a smooth luster in the moonlight.
The man who usually wore not a single accessory now had a long, slender metal earring dangling from his left ear and a bracelet set with red garnets on his right wrist.
Where could he have gone dressed like that?
He looked like a different person. So splendidly adorned, had she seen him in daylight, he would have been no different from the sun god. She even thought him not merely mystical, but beautiful.
With a figure more perfect than the statue of a youthful god erected in a temple, the young buds might have kissed the tops of his feet and bowed.
Swishhhh.
As always, the wind danced around him. It was Hanpung, lingering by its lord’s side, and the Salbaram he commanded, playing mischievously.
“Sir Rian told me that if I came here, I could meet you.”
She spoke while exchanging greetings with the wind that tickled her cheek. He, looking toward her, opened his lips instead of using a spirit voice.
“How is Ambrosia?”
She had expected him to ask that first. As usual, he only ever spoke briefly of business. Even so, his low voice was still magnificent.
“Don’t you have a greeting asking how I’ve been?”
The king, who had been gazing fixedly at Asteril, raised his hand into the air. At that, Hanpung blew a breath, shaking and waking the nodding-off Himeros.
The Himeros, suddenly alert, shook their shoulders and sent petals flying upon the wind.
The petals bearing moonlight began to shine brightly, just like that night before.
- You could at least tell me when you’re going somewhere.
- He doesn’t seem curious about me at all.
- To be honest, I do want to see you. Strangely, I keep thinking of you; you keep rising in my mind.
- Even though I’ve never properly seen your face once… I wonder why I’m like this…. Even I find it funny and strange.
What is this? Asteril’s eyes widened as she stared blankly at the Himeros petals fluttering in the air.
It was her own voice. The words she had muttered to herself, as if alone, to Bukpung were somehow flowing out as if repeating exactly.
Flustered, Asteril leaped forward and reached out. She hopped about trying to snatch the petals flying in the air, but it was no use.
Kal, who had been standing still watching her, clenched into his fist the petals that brushed his fingertips as if kissing them. At that, the things that had been emitting light and sound fell as silent as the dead.
Asteril glared at him in feigned anger and snapped.
“I believe I have told you that eavesdropping is not good.”
“I was not eavesdropping; they showed it to me. They favor your voice.”
The Himeros giggled. Then, in playful, singing voices, they continued.
- We missed you, Asteril….
- I was lonely, for I could not see my lover of the night.
- Seeing how you came all the way here because you were curious and yet curious again….
“Lonely? Who is! I didn’t come to find you; Sir Rian told me to come here….”
She had been dismissing it with a straight face, then buried her face in both hands. What was the use of denying it when she had already been completely found out?
She was the noble and exalted High Priestess of Demeter. The pride of the Mother King, the treasure of Cocytus. An existence that must not lose dignity and authority… that was what she ought to have been.
Unlike her reddened face, his was expressionless. Asteril cleared her throat and spoke.
“Anyway, that was… words without much meaning, so please do not misunderstand.”
Tonight, she would plant moonflowers beside the Himeros field immediately. So very many that they would bloom in full when night fell. She would suffocate them and seal their mouths shut.
“Have you come to dislike returning to Demeter?”
“Did Sir Rian say so? That I do not want to go back?”
She had almost asked if he had any intention of going to Demeter together. Nonsense. He was the King of Hades. To the people of Demeter, Hades and Thanatos were beings more terrible than nightmares.
If she said she didn’t want to go back… what would he say to her? Would he command her to return with a single word, like Sir Rian?
Asteril gently grasped his collar. By now, he did not care whether she grabbed his collar or his hand. His behavior of leaving her to do as she pleased only made her greedier.
What kind of existence was she to him? She wanted to hear the answer, but it was difficult to ask. A shred of fear lay beneath. She was not confident that she was a special existence to him.
Yet curiosity surpassed fear. She was that kind of person. A heart already set in motion could not be suppressed by anything.
“There is something I wish to ask.”
He gazed at her silently.
If I wish to be embraced in your arms, will you hold me quietly with both arms? If I wish to feel your touch, will you caress me tenderly? If I wish to know your heart, unknowable like the wind, will you reveal it plainly in the moonlight?
- Watch out, Princess!
Bukpung shouted. Asteril whipped around, her eyes widening in surprise. Something was flying toward her. With the brightness of a flash and the speed of a gale.
Fire? No, like a flaming arrow….
Kal, who turned around along with her, seized Asteril’s arm.
“Kyaa!”
She fell with a thud onto the flower field and unknowingly wrapped her arms around his back. She felt his arms encircling her shoulders and waist.
Kal raised his head to check the sky. He too seemed to have seen the unidentified fireball.
“What in the world was that just now….”
“It is nothing to concern yourself with.”
“What? But….”
“Do not move.”
When she raised her head, she saw his chin and firm chest as he lay. Her hands were held by his, placed safely above his chest.
Kal rose and walked out of the flower field while holding Asteril. Asteril, her arms around his neck, gazed at the flower field engulfed in fear.
He asked.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
He continued questioning as if confirming.
“Any symptoms of dizziness or nausea?”
“None.”
“Is your mind foggy, or are you hearing hallucinations?”
“No, not at all….”
She looked down at the ground. At the spot where the two had fallen, the Himeros had their buds closed and heads bowed. The petals that had been absorbing moonlight and glowing until moments ago had lost their color and were submerged in darkness like ordinary flowers.
“Have you put on night flowers?”
“Pardon?”
Asteril asked back, wondering what he meant. Kal took her wrist and held it up before her eyes. Moonflowers were wrapped around both her wrists like bracelets.
Moonflowers bloomed at night and were thus also called night flowers.
“The Himeros detest moonflowers terribly. They wrinkle up and close their petals at the mere scent.”
Himeros and moonflowers were both night-blooming flowers, but possessed polar opposite natures. If Himeros was a poisonous herb, the moonflower could be called a medicinal herb.
The poison of the Himeros was emitted like powder only when the stamens absorbed moonlight, so if the buds were closed, there was no fear of poisoning.
The Himeros, which avoided moonflowers, had caught the scent from Asteril’s wrists and closed their buds.
The perplexing thing was why these were wrapped around her wrists… Looking closely, they were wrapped around her ankles too.
In that instant, far away, Bukpung was seen floating about, whistling and pretending not to know, using his arm as a pillow. Asteril narrowed her eyes sharply.
So that was why he had been out of sight.
The moonflowers were wilted as if old. There was only one person in all the detached palace who would have picked these in advance.
Princess Melinoë.
Kal set Asteril down on the ground and pressed his hand to his forehead. As he took a step, he lost his balance and staggered. A rough, groaning breath was heard.
“What’s wrong?”
He covered his mouth and retched, bending over. He looked as if he were trying to vomit something.
“Are you alright?”
- Do not come near.
His spirit voice, resonating in her head, sounded more overbearing than ever. Like Nyx’s spirit voice that night, greeting her with sobs as if drunk.
- Flee, you….
“What?”
A chilling terror seeped into her skin.
Kal pressed against the ground as if sagging, retching, then raised his head. The gaze inside the mask turned sharply toward her. He stared piercingly. With an intense gaze that made it hard to breathe.
A giggling laughter was heard from somewhere. It was the Himeros.
They scattered petals fluttering in the air, unable to hold back their laughter at whatever was so amusing.
Asteril’s eyes widened blankly.
The Himeros where the two had lain had mostly lost their light and bowed their heads, but the flowers at the edges had their petals wide open and were grinning.
Absorbing moonlight, they spat out poison and hallucinogenic components from their stamens like flicking tongues in all directions.
“Surely it’s not… the Himeros poison?”
When they had fallen into the flower field moments ago, she had fallen onto his chest, but he had rolled over entirely, placing his back against the flowers.
“But you said you wouldn’t be poisoned. That the bloodline of gods has no desire….”
- Asteril.
He bent over again, catching his breath, and sent a low spirit voice. Complex emotions dwelled in his raised eyes.
- I told you not to approach.