Anakalupteria- Removal of the marital veil

She stood by the palace window, tall and still, gazing absently at the blurred distance. She had two choices: both unattractive, out of which, she would have to take a decision....marriage to a stranger, or losing everything and risking banishment. Sighing deeply, she turned away from the fantastic view of the endless sky and lush greenery, for her mind found no solace in their beauty.

Walking back into her boudoir with restless steps, she decided to take a bath. Standing in front of the ornate mirror, while taking off her ornaments, she wondered, if she was really the Goddess Aphrodite, or some foolish mortal who was suffering from indecisiveness. Since she arose from the foamy remains of the eternal Ouranos and became a Goddess, never had she faced such a dilemma.

After all, goddesses were not supposed to be making difficult choices, humans were, goddesses were not supposed to be given away in marriage to a stranger, Greek women were. It was not her fault that every man, be it mortal or immortal, was besotted by her beauty, their wives should ask them to be in control of their desires rather than hatch crafty plots to get her married.

Gazing at herself, she scrutinized every aspect of her face and body. She was not supposed to be the most perfect beauty but the most irresistible one, for it was the way she carried herself and talked and smiled, that made every male fall madly in love with her.

Smiling at the reflection, she wondered if anyone would ever realize that she was not the Goddess of love and beauty for being gorgeous, but for her grace and imperfections. But her smile waned at the thought of the impending choice to be made and she snapped her fingers to call upon her assistants.

The room filled with whispering gusts of breeze, as invisible helpers began to get her bath ready and help her undress. Armed with a goblet of icy cold nectar, she stepped into the steaming water and moaned in relief. She loved taking hot baths and luxuriating in its warmth. Sipping her drink, she pondered on what to do. As the Goddess of Love, it would not be right to marry someone she did not love, yet she did not have a choice.

The council of Gods and Goddesses had voted and it had been decided that Aphrodite would either be married or be shunned from Olympus as a mortal. The decision had chiefly been led by Hera, Athena, and Artemis, and the others had slowly agreed to avoid their wrath. The Goddesses nursed their own vendettas of jealousy and envy, but what hurt her was that her lover Ares did not protest. He had been her chief consort and they had had many children together, yet he did not resist the motion.

The ways of the Gods differed from those of mortals, and marriage was not monogamous for them, no matter what some of them pretended. It was more of having a special preference towards each other, but that did not erase the possibilities of other partners. After all, love was beautiful only because it was imperfect. Among eternal beings, it slowly loses flavor and dissolves into affection. Maybe that is the reason why both mortals and immortals seek and renew love time after time, because time is too young and finite to contain all of it.

Rising from the bath, she sat for her toilette and her assistants began drying and combing her long, luscious tresses. She had heard that the God she was voted to marry was ugly and deformed, for his mother, the almighty Hera, had thrown her own son down from the palace as she was disgusted by his appearance-Hephaestus, the God of fire and forges, she wondered if he was a good man. Ares had been handsome and manly, but he had no tenderness in him, nor had he ever admired her beyond her looks. Being an immortal being, one can choose to appear how they wish to, but the fact that Hephaestus did not alter himself intrigued her.

Dressed and decked in jewels, Aphrodite made her choice. She would give Hephaestus a chance, though he was a stranger for she had only heard of him, because the alternate would be losing everything. And it was not like Ares was pining away for her, his lack of empathy, and assent to her marriage was proof that he did not care for her beyond copulation. What worse could Hephaestus do, other than be callous or ugly.