Medea | ✔

05

05 | the end of a hero

Medea had apologised. Using her womanly charms, she had let him think that he had won their argument. That she had overreacted, like a heartbroken woman. Oh, how she had fallen to his arms. Listened to his sweet words as he tried to convince her that he would give her the best life as he could from afar. She had fallen into his arms and embraced him like she had when she was a naïve girl. That his idea was cleverer than any she could have come up with. She had gotten onto her knees, begged Jason for him to let her sons grow up in the palace, alongside the sons Glauce would provide him with. It had worked. He had promised to take the sentence off their sons.

She had allowed Mermeros and Pheres to leave with their father for the ceremony. Thessalus, she'd requested, stay with her in her time of need. Or so she'd claimed.

If only she could have watched the princess in her new, gorgeous gown.

If only Thessalus were still alive to see what his mother had done.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

As his new wife walked towards him, Jason couldn't help but let a smile slip on his face. The palace was a beautiful sight; decorations lined the walls and pillars, while musicians played melodious music. It wasn't anything near Orpheus' smooth voice, but it was good enough for a royal wedding.

He had been surprised with Medea's apology. Even more so by the gift she'd given her sons to give to his bride. Jason assumed it was to gain forgiveness. Maybe even to try and persuade Creon to let her stay in the city. Creon, however, wouldn't be moved. He didn't trust the sorceress. His sons were different though; they were completely innocent.

At first, the little princess had been in a mood that his sons had joined them. She had even tried to turn away the gift, scowling and throwing a tantrum. Jason had soon soothed her mood with a few words, and once Glauce had finally looked at the dress... she had fallen in love with it instantly. It fit her perfectly, clinging to her small frame in all the right places. Over her light brunette hair, she placed a gold coronet containing jewels from the furthest corners of the land.

Gliding down the aisle, she was a sight. Almost as beautiful as Aphrodite. She would produce Jason many beautiful, strong children, a thing he was sure of.

But positive thoughts were soon struck from his mind.

Suddenly, she stumbled to her knees. The coronet somehow managed to stay on her curled hair. Jason, shocked, couldn't move from his position. One of Glauce's hand-maidens cried out, shouting a prayer hoping that they hadn't angered the gods. At first glance, it had seemed that they had done something to upset one of the many gods. Once white froth spluttered from her lips, her eyes turning upwards – only the whites showing – and blood draining from her pale skin, Jason knew it wasn't the gods. Moments later, she thumped to the ground.

All was silent; spectators silenced by fear.

Until the princess let out a blood-curdling scream. The coronet let out a stream of bright fire. The princess' hands tried to pull the fire-covered coronet from her head but it would not budge. As she pulled, twisted and tried to remove the accessory, the flames burned brighter, fiercer. Glauce's hands then tried to rip the thin material of the dress. A rancid, putrid smell of flesh burning filled the palace. Ugly boils started to appear on the young princess' flawless skin.