Song of Forever by Michele Amitrani

Author:Michele Amitrani [Amitrani, Michele]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781988770215
Publisher: Michele Amitrani

8

A Queen’s Duty

I once heard one of the Oceanids describing my mother as a young goddess. She had used the words openhearted, jolly, and easy to laugh with. I could not imagine her like that.

The responsibilities of the Underworld had made her stern and distant, the nymph had said while gossiping with one of her sisters as they walked the narrow corridors of the palace. They hadn’t even noticed me, following a few steps behind. To adults, children can be less visible than the ground they step on.

I still remember the last thing she uttered with a weary whisper, her eyes darting around, as if scared the walls could listen: “It breaks my heart to see what the crown has made of her.”

What the crown has made of her.

At that time, I didn’t know what to make of those words. They were a puzzle I could not decipher.

Now I finally understood.

I knocked at the large door cut from dark oak, and waited.

“Come in,” came my mother’s voice.

I stepped into the chamber. I knew she was in good spirits when I saw her weaving, her hands moving gracefully, pulling and stretching the black and purple fabric. Honeymoon candles burned in the corners of the room, making the air thick with a sweet smell.

“Macaria.” My mother smiled at me. “What keeps you awake at this late hour?”

“I’d like to speak about Orpheus.”

She arched an eyebrow and looked at me in silence with the intensity of a nighthawk. Then her face relaxed. “What brings the memory of his name to you?”

“I know what you did,” I said, then hesitated. I summoned my courage and went on. “You set him up for failure. I know why you imposed on him the condition to never look back. You didn’t mean for his wife to leave the Underworld.”

My mother blinked. “You sound displeased.”

“Why didn’t you simply say no? Why put up the charade? Why give him hope?”

“Hope?” She ran a hand over her smooth cascade of pitch-black hair. “I was not after hope when I imposed that condition. It was politics.”

“Politics?” I echoed.

“Many Olympians watched.” My mother stood up, blowing out the candles one by one. “They grew quite excited over this matter, as they frequently do over frivolous things. Those mouth-gaping fools wanted an exciting finale to the mortal’s predicament. Anything else would win the musician more sympathy and earn me more troubles. You asked me why I didn’t say no. It’s a good question.” She circled the room and closed the window on the far side. “To simply refuse his request would have meant to offer no tension to the story arc the gods had constructed by encouraging Orpheus to reclaim his wife. That is the worst thing you can do to an audience of Olympians: fail to provide them with proper entertainment.”

“You make it sound as if they planned the whole thing.”

“Oh, my dear Macaria.” My mother’s smile did not touch her eyes. “Sometimes I forget you are little more than a child, and some things need to be spelled out.

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