II
Dusk had encased the palace, the heavens streaked lavender and rose. In the women's quarters, Antiope wove the lotus flowers gently between the braids of Hypatia's golden hair. In the half-light the petals glowed, pearl white and luminous.
"It's lovely," Psyche whispered, touching one reverently.
"You are radiant," Antiope agreed. She leaned forward and tucked an errant curl behind her sister's ear. "Does it please you?"
There was a pause as Hypatia's pale eyes flickered. She gazed pensively at her reflection as she raised one hand, absently fingering the pendant which gleamed at her throat. The stone was cornelian, its umber facets striking against her alabastar skin.
"Yes," she said at last, her low voice wavering.
"What is it?" Antiope questioned.
Hypatia blinked, unable to clear the sheen of tears. Three weeks prior, on the day of her betrothal, she had accepted her fate at the hands of their father graciously and without complaint. Now, on the verge of marriage, the enormity overwhelmed her.
"Are you frightened?" Antiope inquired.
Hypatia shook her head.
"You are certain to please him," Psyche encouraged softly. She placed a gentle hand on Hypatia's shoulder. "You exceed everything he could envision."
"Perhaps," Hypatia answered. She rose and delicately straightened the folds of her gown. For a brief moment, her pained eyes grazed the green hills which lay beyond the window. Then she turned, her expression hardening, and walked silently toward the chamber door.
A breeze stirred the curtains in her wake, its force scattering the lotus petals which had fallen across the tiles. Psyche knelt and gathered them gently into her hands.
Already, their luster had dimmed.
Outside, within the shadow of the pillared gardens, the bridal procession approached the marble stairs. Beneath the trees, the flute players trilled, their music drifting gently throughout the assembled crowd.
It was a large group that awaited them, and it was into the hush of their expectant throng that Hypatia descended. When she had reached the floral archway the air grew silent. Before her, the royal retinue bowed. Tall, and in possession of a darkly searing gaze, Prince Theocede of Kadmos was an imposing man. His hair was worn short, in the style of a soldier, and his tunic was white and without adornment. He examined his new bride boldly, his black eyes scrutinizing.
Hypatia flushed and glanced away.
"He is stoic, but his eyes betray his pleasure," Antiope whispered. "I believe he loves her."
Psyche watched as Theocede took her sister's hands within his own. His grip was firm, his posture rigid. He appeared impervious to the crowd, his eyes fixated on Hypatia's upturned face.
"They will be blessed," Antiope said.
Psyche was silent, her gaze on the prince. His dark eyes glinted, and for one terse moment, the veil within them parted.
Arrogance.
Lust.
Greed.
Psyche shivered. She had seen the hearts of men before. In Theocede, selfishness was inherent.
And yet, what could be done?
Hypatia was wed, her girlhood severed. Her future lay within the eastern isles.
"Come," Antiope smiled, "let us congratulate them."
Psyche traversed the gardens grievously. Memories of hours spent wading through the lily ponds and the echoed laughter of a thousand joyous evenings assailed her.
Was the fragility of sisterhood no more than a web caught between leaves that vanished in the wind?
Antiope embraced their sister, her eyes shining. "May the Gods bless you greatly," she whispered.
Hypatia smiled as the flowers in her hair swayed, their petals caught within the gentle breeze. "Thank you," she answered. Her eyes turned to Psyche.
"Why do you look at me with such sorrow?" She asked.
"You shall not return," Psyche answered.
"I will."
Psyche glanced at Theocede. Though she longed to share the truth of his spirit, the joy within Hypatia's eyes impeded her words.
"May the Gods bless you greatly," Psyche repeated, embracing her sister softly.
Hypatia reached upwards and gently drew a lotus flower from the braids of her hair. Then she took Psyche's hand and placed it gently within her open palm.
"A parting token," she said, and smiled.