A Wayward Arrow

Chapter Four: The Enchanted Palace

The next morning, when Psyche woke, she was a little surprised to find her bed empty. There was still a warmth behind her as if the god that had slept with her that night hadn't left that long ago. She sat up, wincing slightly from the soreness between her thighs. While it hadn't hurt and she hadn't bled like her sisters had told her she would, it was still uncomfortable making some motions. He might not have been inside of her long, but he had been big enough that she could still feel him there.

She pulled the robes back into place, tied the cord back around her waist and stood up to her feet. The morning light was just beginning to spill into her bed chamber, lighting up the space and warming over the chilly dawn air that had settled in. She headed towards the entrance of her room, peeking out into the hallway, half expecting a glimpse of her husband's back walking away or even that of a servant, but saw no one and nothing to indicate that there was even another soul that resided in this palace aside from herself.

"Hello?" She called out.

"Yes?" A feminine voice wafted close from the hallway, as if having been standing only a few feet away. "I can help you, my dear?"

Surprise had taken Psyche. She hadn't expected anyone to be there, let alone a maid to be so close. "Do... do you know where my husband is?"

"He isn't here. He left as soon as the first signs of light touched the palace. Off to do the Gods' errands, I would assume."

Of course he would be gone. He had made a big deal the night before about seeing his face, had kept himself in the shadows, and now he was gone before the morning light had even a chance to lighten the darkness. Had left the room before she could even wake and catch a glimpse of his body or face.

"Can you tell me which god he is?"

There was no response and Psyche sighed, moving back into her bed chamber and towards the vanity much as she had the night before. Remembering how all she had done was sit down to brush out her hair before she had seen a shadow of a person move across her mirror. Who was her husband? Why was it such a secret from her to know his name and why must he stay in the shadow? Which god could be disfigured as his body had seemed that of a man last night.

She tried to push the thought from her mind. Instead combing out her hair before she went about trying to put it back up, only realizing she lacked the skill required to do so. Back home, she had handmaids who did all these things for her. Here, well, there were maids and servants but she couldn't see them and she wasn't completely sure if any of them were specifically hers or not. She looked around her room, now more lit up by the growing daylight.

She spotted a tasseled rope near the hearth and, with her curiosity, she went over to it. She wrapped both hands around the thick cord and gave it a good pull. Hearing the sweet chime of a bell off in the distance. Then she stood there for a minute or two. There was no response. No knocking upon the door, nor did it open. Instead, the hearth lit up with a gentle roar which made her gasp and draw back away from it.

"You called, my dear?" That same feminine voice spoke from near her.

"Oh... I, yes... I.." Psyche had drawn a hand to her chest, trying to calm her pounding heart. "I was calling for a handmaid."

"I am that. Call me Fiona." The voice spoke. "Would you like a bath before breakfast?"

"Yes, and for my hair to be put up first."

"Very well, please take a seat and I will fix your hair."

Psyche did take her seat at the vanity. In the mirror she watched as her hair seemed to come to life on it's own. The combs moving to pull and brush at the golden tendrils. Gently pulling the tangles free before they were twisted and braided up on top of her head and pinned into place. Once they were done, she was led by the voice to the wardrobe. The doors opened and she was given view of a collection of never-ending gowns of all different colors and types. Once Psyche picked out a soft pink robe and golden tassel cord, the gown disappeared.