ARIELLE:
Azriel leads me through the meticulously manicured gardens, a path I've traversed countless times yet today feels entirely foreign. I'm positively twitching with anxiety, wondering what revelations she's about to unleash. We settle onto a wrought-iron bench, the chill seeping through my thin gown, and I fix her with a pointed stare, silently urging her to begin.
"So. What is it?" I demand, my voice betraying a hint of impatience. "What momentous secret requires a clandestine meeting in the rose garden? Are you about to confess to poisoning the royal geraniums? Because, frankly, that would be the most exciting thing that's happened all week."
She smiles to herself, a knowing, infuriatingly cryptic expression. She adores speaking in metaphors and riddles, forcing me to decipher her pronouncements like some sort of linguistic puzzle. I brace myself for an onslaught of convoluted explanations.
"In the old days, when I was a mere slip of a girl amongst the Amazons down in Themyscira, we maintained a…cordial relationship with the Gargareans," she begins, her gaze drifting towards the distant horizon. "During the spring festivals, we would venture across the border to Thalaris for a celebration lasting approximately d'yo mines - two months, for those less familiar with archaic measurements. I was far too young to grasp the…subtleties of the occasion at that point. I simply remember being led to this… place of great beauty."
"So what happened there?" I prompt, my patience wearing thin. "Did the Gargareans serenade you with lute music and shower you with wildflowers? Because that sounds rather tedious."
"Oh, it was magical," she breathes, a dreamy quality entering her voice.
"How magical?" I press, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Did unicorns suddenly appear? Did the sky rain chocolate?"
"Dear Arielle. As the ceremonials concluded, the Gargareans approached us. I was with my mother at the time, and she… presented me to a particularly Adonis-like warrior named Clastus. He was undeniably handsome and possessed a certain… rugged charm. It was… the most… amazing experience imaginable."
"Explain," I command, my curiosity piqued despite myself.
"I can't," she says, her cheeks flushing slightly. "It's something only you can experience, with your…husband. It's a mutual…dance, if you will, that only the two of you can participate in, and typically… indoors."
"A dance?" I repeat, confused. "What sort of dance? Is it a waltz? A tango? Because I can assure you, my dancing skills are… rudimentary at best."
"It's a different type of dance. It is innate; it is not learnt. You will experience it. Don't worry." She is using a lot of archaic languages and her voice is serious, then its a serious issue at hand.
"How will I know if I am ignorant about it?" I ask, genuinely concerned that I'll somehow fail to meet some unspoken expectation.
"It doesn't need lessons or knowledge; it's the most natural of things," she says, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "Trust yourself. You will know."
"Ah," I say, still utterly bewildered. It all sounds terribly mysterious and, frankly, a little terrifying.
"You'll know soon enough," she says with a knowing smile. Then, she loops her arm through mine and stands, pulling me up with her.
"Tell me now!" I demand, my voice sharp with a hint of panic. "Did you drag me out here to impart some crucial piece of knowledge? Are you finally going to reveal the secret to eternal youth? If so, I'm all ears. Otherwise, I'm going back to my room and feigning illness."
"It is only he who can teach you, Arielle. Not I," Azriel says, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "You just need to be… ready for the experience. You are a lucky catch, my dear."
"Lucky? I feel more like a gold coin someone found in their pocket and decided to cash in at the last minute," I mutter. "I am so worried about it."
"About what? There is nothing to be worried about," Azriel insists, though her tone lacks conviction. "Just relax, enjoy the ride, and try not to set anything on fire."
"I don't even know his name," I protest, my anxiety levels escalating.
"It's just Caith. He seems…tender to you."
"Tender? He looks like he's perpetually contemplating the merits of world domination. 'Tender' is hardly the word I'd use."
"So what?" she says, shrugging her shoulders. She doesn't care anymore!
"So here he comes now!" she exclaims, gesturing down the garden path. And, sure enough, there he is, Prince Charming himself, striding towards us with a purposeful, vaguely intimidating gait.
"Please don't leave me with him," I plead, grabbing her arm. "I'll do anything. I'll even wear that hideous green dress your aunt knitted for me."
"Because you are not a complete idiot? Bye." And with a final, infuriatingly knowing smile, she abandons me to my fate, leaving me alone with the enigmatic Prince. I am in a proper dilemma now.
He approaches, his gaze intense and unwavering as I look down at my shoes. I wonder what pronouncements he will make now. "What does he want from me now?" I ask myself in a mumble, wondering if he, too, has a list of arcane duties he expects me to fulfill.
He says something I can't comprehend. There is only one way for me to communicate...I bend over, press my lips against his very shortly. His eyes darken, then he looks at me like I just did something bad. Why, is lip contact bad in these creature's… men's world? I question.
"This is how I learn to communicate. What were you saying?"
"Your mother sent me here. She said we should talk." I am startled by his deep, euphonious tone. He really sounds different from me. "Is it okay with you?"
"No problem," I say, trying to project an air of nonchalance despite the fact that my heart is currently attempting to escape from my chest.
I am actually terrified about what he is going to say to me now. I know nothing about myself, or what a wife is, or what a man… like him… is supposed to be.
"Of course. I apologize for the abrupt wedding and engagement without a courtship. It's just that I am a very busy man nowadays," he says, his brow furrowed with what I hope is sincerity.
"You speak of things I have never heard of," I say, stating the obvious. "I am sure you are certain that I am baffled with your very existence."
"Baffled by my existence?" Caith echoes, his brow furrowing slightly. "Is my presence truly so… jarring? I assumed that, as a princess of Khavena, you would have at least heard of men."
"Oh, I've heard the stories, of course," I say, attempting a breezy tone that doesn't quite mask my inner turmoil. "Tales whispered by the old women about monstrous beings with insatiable appetites and a penchant for chaos. I just never thought they were…real."
"Monstrous beings?" Caith raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "I assure you, I haven't eaten anyone, or at least, not recently."
"So all this time, those stories told by the Old Mother, were true. I really thought they were fictitious tales, from an olden era. I had no knowledge that creatures called men, actually walk some part of the world!" I say, looking at the ground to ignore him.
"And what exactly did they tell you about men, hmm? That we breathe fire and hoard gold?" Caith's lips twitch with laughter.
"Something along those lines," I admit, "but also that you are strong and warriors with unexplainable strength in your hands and can fight and protect. I always thought they were just tales but I guess it makes sense. What I would never understand is, how you all were created."
He pauses, as though considering the best way to explain. "Well, the official version is that we were forged by the gods. Born from the earth, sculpted by Hephaestus, and imbued with life by Zeus. A rather dramatic tale, wouldn't you agree?"
"By who and by what?" I question again. My head is hurting.
"Well, in the beginning, there was only Chaos," Caith explains, his voice low. "From Chaos sprang Gaea, the Earth, and Uranus, the Sky. They birthed the Titans, powerful beings who ruled the cosmos. One of the Titans, Cronus, overthrew his father and became king. But Cronus was cursed, told that one of his own children would usurp him. So, in his paranoia, he swallowed each of his offspring whole."
"A little disturbing, but continue. So, like in stories, he eventually gets overthrown?" I ask.
"His wife, Rhea, managed to save their youngest son, Zeus, hiding him away on the island of Crete. Zeus grew up in secret, and eventually, he challenged Cronus for the throne. He freed his siblings from Cronus's belly – Poseidon, Hades, Hera, Hestia, and Demeter. Together, they waged war against the Titans, a conflict that lasted for ten long years." He pauses to take a breathe. "Zeus and his siblings emerged victorious. The Titans were imprisoned in Tartarus, the deepest pit of the Underworld, and Zeus became the new king of the gods, ruling from Mount Olympus."
"How were these creatures men then if the gods are gods?" I question again. "This is all making my head hurt and there are so many names."
Caith chuckles softly. "That is all a very long story, Arielle. It's not all for you to learn today, if you aren't getting it. We are a product of their actions, their wars, and their desires. We are, in a way, their legacy. And, I suppose, we are also a product of nature, if you will. We aren't perfect."
"Are all the women in your realm like the us?" I ask, my curiosity piqued. "Do they all carry swords and glare at men with barely concealed contempt?"
Caith smiles wryly. "Not all of them. The Amazons are a rather…specialized case. Most women in my realm are… well, they're just women. They have families, they rule kingdoms aside men. They're as diverse and varied as the men."
"But are there any... islands of women?" I persist, my mind struggling to grasp the concept of a world where men and women coexist in something resembling harmony. "Any places where women rule without the…interference…of men?"
He considers this for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "There are powerful matriarchies, yes, where women hold positions of authority and influence. But an entire island populated solely by women, with no male influence whatsoever? No, I can't say that I'm aware of any such place. Other than Khavena of course."
"Why not?" I ask, a hint of disappointment creeping into my voice. "Is there some ancient prophecy that forbids it? Did someone forget to add 'men' to the original recipe for civilization?"
Caith shrugs, his expression unreadable. "I honestly don't know. Perhaps it's simply a matter of… practicality. Or perhaps it's a testament to the unique strength and resilience of the women of Khavena. Whatever the reason, you are a rather… unique phenomenon, Arielle. A shining beacon of female empowerment in a world that often struggles to comprehend such things."
"So essentially," I say, summarizing the situation, "I'm about to be transplanted from a feminist paradise to a… less feminist paradise. Is that about right?"
He sighs, his eyes filled with an unspoken melancholy. "In a realm like mine, it is not always as equal as this one, for certain. It comes with struggles and needs."
"If this marriage is so important and critical, why not just teach me all of the necessary things?" I ask Caith who seems to be the only one I can understand, with his weird stories and all.
"What brought you to this island in search of a 'wife'?" I ask, the word feeling foreign and ill-fitting on my tongue. "If I even know what that means. Am I simply a bargaining chip in some elaborate game of political chess?"
"Because I wanted to," he answers, his tone clipped and devoid of warmth.
"I doubt it," I retort, my cynicism kicking into high gear. "For you to come here despite the hardships Zeus created against finding us, you have a motive."
"A motive to find a wife. That is my destiny, Arielle," he corrects, his voice a low rumble. "Not Hennessia. And as it happens, finding a wife is rather difficult when said wife is hidden away on a mythical island protected by ancient magic."
"Fine," I say, trying to avoid his intense stare. "Where are you from? I'd like to know where I'm being shipped off to before I actually get shipped off."
"Me? I'm from a faraway island, or rather, mainland. It depends on your point of view."
"You mean Athens?" I ask, my limited knowledge of the outside world failing me. "Are we about to be overrun by philosophers and olive groves?"
"Not really. I'm from another realm. Another sort of timeline, as you might say."
"Timeline?" I repeat, thoroughly confused. "Like we're… apart from the rest of the world? Existing in a parallel universe where the fashion is perpetually atrocious?"
"Something like that. I'm from Thornvale Castle. We are hidden, much like you are here."
"So, I have to travel by boat with you?" I ask, my stomach sinking at the thought of spending days confined to a small vessel with this brooding stranger.
"Yes. Immediately after the wedding, we will set sail for home."
"Can't we stay a little longer?" I plead, a desperate hope flickering within me. "Just a few more days to soak up the sunshine and avoid the inevitable…."
"Unfortunately, not," he says, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Duty calls, I'm afraid."
I frown and sigh, feeling like a lamb being led to the slaughter. Just then, a maid approaches, her head bowed.
"Princess, it's time for your bath at the temple," she says, her voice barely a whisper.
"Okay," I say, relieved to have a temporary reprieve from this unsettling encounter. "See you later, Prince."