The War God's Woman

23. Ancient History: Part One

3000 years ago

Princess Sàrka sat at her husband's side, her face rigid with hostility. They'd married two months ago, in a ceremony all her friends and family had shared with her. He was handsome, strong and brave. She was beautiful and rich. It was supposed to be her happy ending. But it hadn't been. Her husband refused to touch her. They sat with an icy gulf between them, his gaze fixed on her younger sister. Psyche.

When Princess Psyche laughed, he smiled – enchanted. Sàrka grinded her teeth together.

"Psyche, dearest." Called their father, the king, limping his way over. "Come, keep your old father company. I've missed you."

"I'm sorry I stayed so long in Crete, father. I missed you too."

Psyche jumped from her seat and took her father's arm, helping him to reach the dais. She sat down beside him, occupying their late mother's throne, at his side. The king indulgently patted Pschye's arm, listening to what she was playfully whispering to him.

Sàrka dropped her spoon, deaf to the loud clatter that the utensil made as it hit the table. It was a pity that death had visited Crete, and failed to take Psyche away with it.

**

                                Sàrka marched down the halls of the palace to her husband's rooms, rage in every long stride she took. Her spies had intercepted her husband's letters, warning her of his intention. Sàrka's dress billowed out, the dark material blending with the shadows. She burst into his chambers and found him writing at his desk. She sneered in disgust.

"I didn't invite you here." He said, without glancing up from his poetry. Sàrka stood over him.

"You cannot divorce me." Her voice was stiff, her lips barely moving. He blinked, but didn't look up.

"I'm freeing us both from this mess."

"You are freeing yourself. You are abandoning me."

The Prince continued to write, refusing to look up at her. 

"You dishonour me." She spat. 

"I cannot love you."

Tears pricked in Sàrka's eyes.

"You have never tried to." Her voice wobbled and she sucked in air sharply, trying not to cry.

"It is impossible."

Sàrka lashed out suddenly, knocking everything from the desk and sending it crashing to the floor.

"Because of Psyche!" She finally yelled, losing control. "Don't fool yourself that you can have her!"

The blood drained from the prince's face and he finally looked up at his furious wife. Sàrka glared at him. "If you divorce me, I will have you banished! You will never get to see Psyche again!"

The prince leapt to his feet.

"Why are you making me stay married to you?!"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE MINE!"

**

                        Sàrka determined that she would have her happy ending. No matter the cost.