‘Your master’s palace?’
‘Please remember to keep your seat belt fastened and don’t disable the smoke detectors in the lavatory.’
‘What language are you speaking?’ Psyche demanded. ‘What are you talking – AHHH!’
The west wind swept her away at a thousand miles an hour, leaving behind Psyche’s stomach and a trail of black flower petals.
They touched down in a grassy valley blanketed with wildflowers. Butterflies flitted through the sunlight. Rising in the distance was the most beautiful palace Psyche had ever seen.
‘Thanks for flying with us today,’ Zephyrus said. ‘We know you have a lot of options when choosing a directional wind, and we appreciate your business. Now, you’d better get going. He’ll be waiting.’
‘Who –?’
But the air turned still. Psyche sensed that the wind god was gone.
Nervously, she approached the sprawling white villa. Gardens and orchards surrounded the property. A clear stream wended through flower beds. Shady arbours were laden with honeysuckle.
Psyche passed through the main doors into a living room with a panelled cedar-and-ivory ceiling, walls etched in silver geometric patterns and a mosaic floor made of precious jewels. Comfy white couches faced a low table filled with bowls of luscious fruit, steaming fresh bread and pitchers of ice-cold lemonade.
And that was just the first room.
In amazement, Psyche wandered through the palace. She found atriums with rose gardens and glittering fountains, bedrooms with the finest linens and fluffy feather pillows, libraries full of scrolls, an indoor swimming pool with a water slide, a gourmet kitchen, a bowling alley, a home theatre room with overstuffed reclining seats and a popcorn machine – this place had it all. It made her family’s royal palace back home look like one of those nasty portable classroom buildings.
She opened a random closet. Stacks of gold bars gleamed inside. She opened another closet. Tupperware bins were neatly labelled DIAMONDS, EMERALDS, RUBIES, BOW TIES, FEZZES and SAPPHIRES. So many riches – the contents of any broom closet in the palace would be enough to buy a private island and your own army to defend it.
‘Who lives here?’ Psyche wondered aloud. ‘Who owns all this stuff?’
Right next to her, a woman’s voice said, ‘You do, mistress.’
Psyche jumped, knocking over a large vase that shattered and spilled diamonds all over the floor. ‘Who’s there?’
‘I’m sorry to startle you, mistress,’ said the invisible woman. ‘I am one of your servants. I only spoke because you asked a question. This is your palace. Everything here belongs to you.’
‘But … But I –’
‘Don’t worry about the mess, mistress,’ said the servant.
A gust of wind swept up the diamonds and the shards of broken vase and whisked them away.
‘Anything you need, we will provide,’ said the servant. ‘I’ve drawn a nice hot bath for you. After that, if you’re hungry, your private buffet line is open all day. If you require music, just ask. The invisible musicians know all your favourite songs. After dark, I will show you to your bedroom, and your husband will arrive.’
Psyche’s throat twisted like a Twizzler. ‘My husband?’
‘Yes, mistress.’
‘Who is my husband?’
‘The lord of this house.’
‘But who is the lord of this house?’
‘Your husband, of course.’
Psyche took a shaky breath. ‘We could go around in circles like this forever, couldn’t we?’
‘If you wish, mistress. I am here to serve.’
Psyche decided a hot bath would be good, because she needed to calm down.
After her soak in the tub (with a dozen choices of scented bath oils, accompanied by floating candles, thousand-jet Jacuzzi whirlpool action and soothing music), invisible servants brought her the most beautiful, comfortable clothes she’d ever worn.
She ate the best dinner of her life while unseen musicians played her top ten tunes and the sun went down over the blooming apple trees in the orchard.
The knot in her stomach only got tighter.
Her husband would arrive after dark.
The Oracle had warned her parents: she was doomed to marry a monster, a barbaric beast feared by the gods themselves. But how could a monster live in a place like this? If he wanted her dead, why wasn’t she dead already?
(By the way, if this whole thing is starting to sound like Beauty and the Beast – with the mysterious monster dude who lives in a cool palace with magic servants – that’s no accident. Beauty and the Beast was totally based on Psyche’s story. Just don’t expect any singing teapots, because that ain’t going to happen.)
Finally nightfall came. Psyche could have refused to go to bed. She could have tried to run away, but she decided that would only postpone her fate. After hours of wondering and worrying, it was almost a relief when it got dark. Besides, she had to admit she was a little bit curious. She’d never had a boyfriend, much less a husband. What if … what if he wasn’t so bad?
The invisible servants guided Psyche to her bedchamber and gave her a nice warm set of My Little Pegasus pyjamas, the kind with footsies. She climbed into her huge bed, which was so soft it was like floating on air. (She knew about that thanks to her trip with Zephyrus.)
A breeze swirled through the room, snuffing out the candles and lamps. In total darkness, Psyche heard the door open. Bare feet padded across the marble. Something heavy sank onto the edge of the mattress.
‘Hello,’ said a man’s voice.
He didn’t sound monstrous. He sounded like a radio announcer. His tone was gentle and tinged with humour, as if he understood how ridiculous this first meeting was.
‘I’m sorry for the drama,’ he said. ‘It was the only way I could arrange to meet you without … certain people noticing.’
Psyche found it difficult to talk, because her heart was lodged in her windpipe. ‘Who – who are you?’
The man chuckled. ‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you my name. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m definitely not supposed to marry you. So, if you could just call me “husband”, that would be great … assuming you’re okay with marrying me.’
‘I have a choice?’
‘Look … I’m in love with you. I know that’s insane, since we’ve just met, but I’ve been watching you for a long time. Not in, like, a stalker way.’ He sighed. ‘Sorry. I’m really messing this up.’
Psyche’s feelings were hopelessly jumbled. She was used to people watching her. She’d endured that her whole life. ‘You think you’re in love with me because I’m beautiful?’
‘No,’ said the man. ‘Well, yes. Of course you’re beautiful. But I love you because of how you’ve handled it. You never let it go to your head. You tried to tell the people no. You kept your faith in the gods. I admire the way you endured your sadness and loneliness.’
She didn’t want to cry, but her eyes stung. Nobody had ever said anything so nice to her before. She was relieved to be in total darkness, where appearances didn’t matter.
The man touched her fingers. Psyche was surprised to find that his hand felt warm and strong and very human.
‘I can’t even show you what I look like.’ He sounded sad. ‘If you knew my identity, our marriage would fall apart. You’d suffer terribly. It would ruin everything.’
‘Why?’
‘I – I’m sorry. You’ll just have to trust me, if you can. I promise you this: I’ll be a good husband. Whatever you need, just ask. But the ground rules are non-negotiable: we can only meet here, at night, in total darkness. Each morning, I’ll be gone before the dawn. You can never know my real name. You can never look at me. Don’t even try it.’
Psyche could feel her own pulse racing as she held his hand. ‘What if I see you accidentally? What if there’s a full moon or something –’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ he said. ‘The darkness is an extra precaution, but I’m a
lso invisible. The only time you could potentially see me is when I’m asleep. While I’m sleeping, I can’t will myself to be invisible. But as long as you don’t do something silly like get up in the middle of the night, light a candle and intentionally look at me, we’ll be fine. Psyche, I’m serious, though. You don’t want to look at me. It would destroy us.’
Us. He said the word like it was a real thing. Like they were already a couple.
‘I don’t want to rush you,’ he said. ‘We can just talk. I know this is awkward.’
‘Kiss me,’ she said, her heart fluttering.
He hesitated. ‘Are you sure?’
‘You have lips, don’t you? You’re not, like, a bird monster or a zombie or something?’
He laughed under his breath. ‘No. I have lips.’
He kissed her, and Psyche’s insides melted into her My Little Pegasus footsies.
When he finally pulled away, she had to remember how to speak. ‘That was … wow. That … wow.’
‘Yeah,’ he agreed. ‘So …’
‘Kiss me again, Husband.’
She could almost feel him smiling.
‘You’re the boss,’ he said.
The next few weeks were great. Every day, Psyche chilled at the palace, enjoying her gardens and her indoor pool and her bowling alley. Every night, she couldn’t wait for her husband to get home. He was the kindest, funniest, most amazing guy she’d never seen.
No way was he a monster. She’d touched his face. It felt like a perfectly normal human face – handsome, in fact. Very handsome. His arms were smooth and muscular. His … Well, you know what? I think that’s good enough. I’m doing my best here, but I’m just not used to describing a dude from a lady’s point of view. Sorry.
Psyche was happily married. ’Nuff said.
The only problem: she missed her family.
Why? Good question. Her sisters had always been mean to her, or at best, fake nice. Her mom and dad had always been clueless. They’d dressed her in a funeral/wedding dress and let her jump off a rock. But family connections are weird. Even if your relatives aren’t particularly good to you, they’re still your blood. You can’t lose that connection completely. (And, believe me, I’ve got a few relatives on my dad’s side that I would love to lose.)
Sometimes, when Psyche was sitting quietly in her garden, she thought she heard her family calling her name from far, far away. Once she heard her father’s voice. Then her mother’s. Mostly she heard her sisters, and they sounded distressed, which wasn’t like them.
This made it hard for Psyche to enjoy her swimming pool, or her buffet lunch, or the invisible shoulder massages given by her invisible spa attendants.
One night Psyche asked her husband about the voices, because she was afraid she was going crazy.
In the darkness, he laced his fingers through hers. ‘You’re not going crazy, my love. Your father and mother haven’t been doing well since you disappeared. They are sick with grief. Since your body was never found, they made your sisters promise to look for you. Every day, your sisters travel to that spire of rock where you jumped into the wind. They’ve been calling your name.’
Psyche’s heart turned into a lump of granite. She’d been so focused on herself she hadn’t considered how her family must be feeling.
‘I have to go home,’ she said. ‘I have to see my parents.’
‘You can’t,’ said her husband. ‘If you leave this valley, you can never come back.’
‘Why? Can’t Zephyrus just –’
‘It’s not that simple.’ Her husband’s voice was full of pain, maybe even a little fear. ‘Psyche, I’m trying to protect you. You’re under a death sentence from the gods. Well, one goddess in particular …’
Psyche had almost forgotten her troubles from being super gorgeous. ‘You mean Aphro–’
‘Don’t say her name,’ her husband warned. ‘It’s too easy to attract her attention. If you show yourself in the mortal world, all the adoration will start up again. The people will proclaim you a goddess. We’ll both be in serious trouble. Everything we have here … our private world will be compromised. Please, just let your family believe you’re dead.’
Psyche had never felt so torn. She was happy for the first time in her life. Despite the weird restrictions on their relationship, she had quickly grown to love her husband. She didn’t want to mess that up. Plus the buffet line was pretty sweet.
On the other hand, her parents were sick from grief. Her sisters were searching for her daily, crying out her name. Psyche wasn’t a selfish person. She didn’t like turning her back on people. She couldn’t enjoy her happiness knowing that others were miserable.
‘What about a compromise?’ she asked. ‘I won’t leave. But let my sisters come here.’
‘Psyche …’
‘I’ll make them swear to secrecy! They’ll only stay long enough to see that I’m alive and well. They’ll just tell my parents, so they can stop worrying. That’s it!’
‘This is a very bad idea,’ her husband said. ‘Your sisters have always been jealous of you. If you bring them into our home, they will poison your thoughts. If you love me, please listen to me. This will ruin everything.’
She kissed his hand. ‘You know I love you. I promise I’ll be careful. But you did say I should ask for whatever I needed. I need this.’
Reluctantly, her husband agreed.
The next morning, Psyche walked to the field of wildflowers where she’d first landed. In the distance, she heard her sisters calling her name.
‘Zephyrus,’ she said, ‘bring them here, please.’
Immediately her sisters came plummeting out of the sky, screaming and flailing their arms. They landed face first in the wildflowers. I guess Zephyrus didn’t think much of them, or maybe they were flying economy class.
‘Sisters!’ Psyche said. ‘Um, so glad to see you! Let me help you up!’
Ever had one of those urges to do something, like, Oh, my gods, this is the best idea ever, and as soon as you do it you’re like, What was I thinking?
Psyche felt that way as soon as she saw her siblings. Suddenly she remembered how mean they could be. She started regretting her choice to bring them there. But it was too late now, so she tried to make the best of it.
Psyche gave them a tour of the palace. She explained how the wind had carried her there to meet her new husband. She apologized for not calling or writing, but there was this whole death-sentence-from-the-gods thing, and it was vitally important that the mortal world believe she was dead.
At first, the sisters were too stunned to say much. Over the course of the next few hours, they went from mystified to slightly relieved about their sister being alive to secretly outraged at how cool her new crib was. Psyche showed them the bowling alley, the indoor pool, the buffet, the endless bedrooms and gardens and living rooms, and a home theatre room with a popcorn machine.
‘What’s in here?’ The eldest sister pulled open a closet door and was nearly crushed under an avalanche of gold bars, diamonds, rubies and bow ties.
‘Oh, that’s just storage,’ Psyche said sheepishly.
The middle sister stared at the treasure, which was worth more than her husband’s entire kingdom. ‘You have many storage closets like this?’
‘Um … I haven’t counted. A few dozen? But that’s not important!’
She offered each sister a private suite to freshen up in before lunch. The invisible servants treated them to hot baths and massages, haircuts and pedicures. They got new outfits that were fifty times more stylish than their old ones and jewellery worth more than their father’s entire treasury.
Then they had peanut-butter and jam sandwiches on the veranda, because Psyche was all about PB & J.
‘Who is your husband?’ her eldest sister demanded. ‘How can he afford all this?’
‘Oh, um … he’s a merchant.’ Psyche felt bad about lying, but she’d promised her husband not to give away too many details – especially not the fact th
at he was invisible and only visited during total darkness. He was afraid that might freak out her sisters, though I can’t imagine why.
‘A merchant,’ the middle sister repeated. ‘A merchant who controls the wind and has invisible servants.’
‘Well, he’s very successful,’ Psyche mumbled.
‘Can we meet him?’ asked the eldest sister.
‘He’s away … on business.’ Psyche stood abruptly. ‘Well, it’s been wonderful seeing you! I really have to get back to … stuff!’
She loaded her sisters up with expensive presents and escorted them back to the edge of the valley.
‘But, Psyche,’ said the middle sister, ‘at least let us visit you again. We’ll bring you news from home. And … we miss you. Don’t we, sister?’
The eldest sister nodded, trying not to dig her fingernails into her palms. ‘Oh, so much! Please, let us visit again!’
‘I’m not sure …’ Psyche said. ‘I promised my husband –’
‘He wouldn’t forbid a visit from your loving family!’ The middle sister laughed. ‘He’s not a monster, is he?’
‘Um … well, no –’
‘Good!’ said the eldest sister. ‘Then we’ll see you same time next week!’
Zephyrus carried the sisters away, but Psyche felt like she was the one trapped in a tornado.
That night, she told her husband about the visit. When he heard that the sisters wanted to visit again, he did not yell hooray and dance around the room.
‘I warned you they would toy with your emotions,’ he said. ‘Don’t have them back. Don’t let them wreck our happiness. Besides –’ he placed his hand gently on her belly – ‘you have the baby to think about.’
Psyche’s heart did a double flip. ‘I – I’m going to –’
‘Yep.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yep.’
‘How?’
‘I just know. Please, no more family visits. Forget your sisters.’
Psyche wished she could, but if she was having a baby, she should at least tell her family … shouldn’t she? Also, her sister’s question kept replaying in her head: He’s not a monster, is he?
‘I – I’m committed now,’ Psyche said. ‘I promise I won’t let my sisters ruin our happiness. Just let them visit one more time.’