Painted Blind

by Michelle Hansen

“She decided to get rid of it. In the garden, she pulled the plant from its pot and shook the soil free from the roots. The gardener sneezed, fell to his knees and declared that he would be her slave if she would love him. Stunned, my mother called for a stable hand and another maid. They hauled the poor man away, and when they returned, my mother got the wild notion to try the experiment again. She stood them facing each other and threw a handful of dust between their faces. They both sneezed, looked up, and their faces burned with newfound passion. That evening when her husband returned, my mother threw a handful in her own face, sneezed and looked on the man she had married.”

  “And she loved him,” I finished for him.

  “No. Somehow she was immune to the dust. She tried everything—breathing it, eating it, bathing in it. Nothing worked, yet all around her, the household was wild with love. Believing she was immune to passion, she fled her husband’s kingdom and came here, where she’d discovered the flower. There was a little cabin here then, not a palace, and the land belonged to her father. One day she wandered to the far reaches of the estate, sat upon the stone wall and wept. She did not hear a man approach her, nor had she ever seen him, though she would have known his name if he had introduced himself. He simply said, ‘Beautiful lady, why do you weep?’”

  Erik’s voice grew harder as he continued. “My mother looked up and her life changed. Before her was this beautiful man, and she felt the kind of attraction for him that she should’ve had for her husband. A handful of the dust was in her apron pocket. Without thinking she tossed it into his face. So began a secret affair that ended when I made my miserable appearance into this world.”

  “You are the child of her infidelity?” I’d made him retell this story to appease my curiosity, and now I was sorry for adding to his pain.

  “They were both married. My mother’s husband and my father were on the brink of war when my grandfather intervened. He purchased peace with the arrangement you see before you. Half of my estate belonged to my grandfather, the other half to my father. My grandfather purchased the land at an exorbitant price, built this palace overlooking the valley and made an agreement with my mother’s husband. She would live here until I was born, stay an additional summer and return to him, fully repentant, in the fall. I would remain here and never burden him for support. My mother would live with me each summer.”

  “She agreed to leave you? You were just a baby.”

  “It was either agree or have two kingdoms ravaged by war. Eudora was born only a few months before me. Her mother nursed us both and became as much a mother to me as my own—more actually. But if you ever met my mother, you’d understand that what belongs to her is hers, and she won’t let anyone forget it.”

  “What about your father?”

  “He denied that I was his, but when I was born, it was obvious. My father has very distinct eyes, and I inherited them. Still, he wanted nothing to do with me. He only sees me when matters of the kingdom require it.”

  “I’m sorry,” was all I could say.

  He shrugged. “I’ve been a menace from the very start.” Then he added, “By choice, of course.”

  “And the dust?”

  “It’s only found on my estate. My grandfather had the caves blocked off, but I tore down the walls and started mining it as soon as I was of age to manage the estate myself.”

  “And it’s made you rich?”

  “No, the kingdom generates its own income, and I live on a portion of it. I’ve never sold the dust. I just use it to entertain myself.”

  I giggled into his shoulder. “And take revenge on unsuspecting student teachers.”

  “Very deserving student teachers. It produces desire, but it doesn’t take away a person’s power of choice. I once dusted a man whose love was of a different religion. Though they were passionately attracted to one another, they separated and each married someone of their own faith. Their relationships with God meant more to them than their passions, and they chose accordingly.”

  “The effects of the dust wear off.”

  “In my kind, they always wear off. In your kind, it depends on the dose. Dust someone well enough, and it will last a lifetime.”

  “Do you ever do that?”

  “No, mortals are too fragile. I give them a passion that lasts a year or two, and if they fall in love for real, they never notice when the dust wears off.”

  This brought us to the most pressing question of all. “Did you dust me?”

  “Of course not. It wouldn’t work unless you saw me.” He pulled me closer. “Your passion for me is all genuine.”

  “Who said I had a passion for you?” I replied.

  He put his fingers under my chin and found my pulse. “Feverish, irregular breathing, racing pulse? Either you love me, or you need a doctor.”

  I elbowed him in the side. “I’m just nervous—strange world and all.”

  When the night’s blackness gave way to blue, I was dozing against Erik’s shoulder. He shook me awake. “I’ll take you to your room. It will be light soon.”

  I was too tired to argue.

  He guided me down the hallway and walked me to the bed, where I pulled down the covers and fell in, clothes and all. Erik drew a finger across my forehead. “Sleep well.”

  The perfume of summer roses, a scent long dead in my world, wafted through my dreams. When I opened my eyes, I found three pink buds resting on the pillow with a sprig of lavender mingled among them. The window was open to a square of cloudless sky. The sun was high overhead. I guessed it was almost noon.

  On the nightstand was a folded letter with my name printed in exquisite script on the front. The message inside was written in the same beautiful hand.

  My Lovely Soul,

  There are fresh clothes in the armoire and sandals in the drawer below. In the boxes on the dresser I’ve left gifts. A guest, such as you, should be properly adorned when roaming my kingdom. The smaller box contains a pendant. It is a token of my affection and will guarantee that no other man in the kingdom will bother you. It must be worn on your forehead not your neck. (I’ll explain that later.) My friend Aeas will gladly show you around the kingdom today.

  The bathing area is on the lowest level. Take the narrow stairs next to my bedroom door. If I’ve neglected anything, ask Aeas.

  Stop hiding and enjoy yourself. I’ll return at dark.

  The signature was the elaborate E on the paintings downstairs.

  I opened the armoire, expecting regular clothes, but found white gowns. The fabric was thicker than cotton jersey but softer than silk. They were all floor length, flowing and sleeveless. I chose one with a halter-style bodice that tied behind the neck. In the dresser I found silk underclothing. After digging through eight pairs of sandals, I finally found a pair that would fit my size ten feet.

  The gifts Erik left were frighteningly expensive. In addition to the pendant, there was a gold belt adorned with amethyst stones, a gold arm cuff, and a bracelet, which was roughly twelve carats of amethysts strung together with twisted gold chain.

  After bathing and dressing in the silky gown, I put my hand through the arm cuff and slid it above my elbow, where it spiraled around my bicep and shimmered in the light. Next I fitted the belt around my waist. On the smallest setting, it threatened to slide onto my hips. The bracelet clasp gave me the most trouble, but I finally got it onto my wrist.

  Properly dressed, I ventured upstairs. My stomach rumbled, and if Erik’s housekeeper wanted to make it her mission to fatten me, this morning I was willing.

  The scent of baking bread coaxed me into the kitchen. I turned the corner expecting to find a middle-aged woman elbow deep in dough. Instead, a young woman looked up from dicing vegetables and let out a squeal. I turned and fled, while she ran to the back door and shouted for help.

  I was halfway up the stairs when a boy called my name.

  “Please, wait. She didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  I wasn’t scared. I was embarrassed, a trespasser
in their world.

  The boy’s face was familiar. He was the one with blue eyes who caught me looking at him in the orchard. He offered me his hand and said, “I’m Aeas.”

  I shook his hand awkwardly. “Thanks for the oranges.”

  “You’re welcome.” As he led me into the kitchen, he asked, “What’s in your hand?”

  The pendant drew surprised smiles from him and the cook.

  “Now we know why he was plucking roses from the garden before dawn.” Aeas’s eyes brightened. “Are you going to wear it?”

  “If you think it’s all right,” I answered.

  “All right?” Aeas laughed. “It’s a miracle.”

  The girl stepped forward and took the token from my hand. She smiled with glee as she fastened the chain around my head. The pendant hung on my forehead. A second chain went over my head from ear to ear to keep the first from slipping.

  “This is Eudora,” Aeas said. “She’s learning your language, but she doesn’t speak it well.”

  “Erik’s surrogate sister?”

  “Yes, but if you ask her, she’ll say she’s just the cook and housekeeper.”

  She was more beautiful than any of the models I worked with this past summer. Her dark hair hung in curls down her back, and on her neck hung a similar pendant—the same gold crest, but a different cluster of stones.

  “Her pendant is on her neck,” I observed.

  “She’s married.” Aeas pulled a stool to the island, where Eudora had been working before I interrupted her. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “Starving.”

  Eudora made scrambled eggs and offered me thick slices of bread, while Aeas fed orange halves into a press until he’d filled a pitcher with juice. “We have to take her to the village,” he said to Eudora. “No one will believe us otherwise.”

  When she squinted in confusion, he translated.

  He turned to me and continued, “He did say to show you around today. He wasn’t happy that I let you hide in the house all day yesterday.”

  “I don’t know,” I protested. “I don’t like crowds.”

  Aeas brushed away my concern with his hand. “The villagers will love you. Most have never seen a mortal. Although, you don’t really look like one.”

  “The dress?” Maybe I wasn’t wearing it right.

  “No, your face.”

  “Oh.” My voice fell flat.

  To Eudora, he said, “In her world they call her Venus.”

  I choked on a gulp of orange juice.

  Aeas stuffed the last of his bread into his mouth. “I’ll send for the horses.”

  “Aeas, what’s his name?”

  He paused in the doorway and gave me a teasing smile. “I believe we’re calling him Erik these days.”

  Grudgingly, I finished my eggs under Eudora’s wistful gaze.

  I recognized the village from the frescoes in the palace. Several more shops had sprung up along the main road, and there were more house-lined streets in the rear. Still, it was recognizably the same. Even the people matched the likeness in the painting. The fashion of clothing hadn’t changed. Neither had their market. Yet, most of the frescoes were painted when the palace was built. That meant the village had been here almost two thousand years.

  We landed at the edge of the town and dismounted. The horses pranced away and gathered in a field adjacent to the road. At least a dozen other winged horses mingled there. Like horses from my world they were a mixed assortment of sorrels and bays, a few white ones, a black and a grey. Each had its wings delicately folded at its sides. Individually, they were impressive. Collectively, they were downright spectacular.

  With Aeas on one side and Eudora on the other, I walked tentatively down the cobble-stone street toward the first row of shops. Eudora carried a basket for the goods she planned to buy. Sensing my discomfort, Aeas promised to translate everything people said to us.

  We were approached by one of the boys from the orchard—the oldest. “That’s not your pendant,” he said to Aeas.

  “No, it isn’t,” Aeas replied with a smile.

  The guy looked closer before the realization struck him, and his eyes widened. “I don’t believe it.” With an embarrassed laugh, he took my hand. “Forgive me.” He bowed and kissed the first knuckle of my hand. “Welcome, Lady.” After politely excusing himself, he ran down the street carrying the news.

  Fear ran up my spine. This scene was looking familiar, like the one that began with someone shouting, “Stop that girl! She’s Venus!”

  I grabbed Aeas’s arm. “Don’t take me into a crowd.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder and steered me toward the shops. “It will be all right.” We went through a gate to the courtyard of the first shop. There cloaks, dresses and men’s half-length robes hung on display. A table nearby held colored sashes and sandals. “You should choose a cloak,” Aeas said. “The evenings are growing cooler.”

  “I don’t have any money.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You have no understanding of what it means to be a guest. They all know who to charge.”

  Eudora took two cloaks from the rack. “You like them?” she asked in hesitant syllables.

  “I like this one.” I held up a plum-colored cloak with gold trim. “What do you think?”

  They exchanged a momentary look that I couldn’t decipher. “It’s expensive, isn’t it?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Aeas spoke briefly to the shop keeper, then turned to me. “Why did you choose that one?”

  “I like the color. It matches the stones I’m wearing.”

  The shopkeeper draped the cloak over my shoulders and fastened the gold clasp in front. She gazed at the pendant and spoke to me in words I couldn’t understand.

  “She says she would have embroidered more detail if she’d known you were destined to wear it.”

  “Tell her I like it just the way it is,” I replied.

  A small crowd had gathered near the shop. Women pretended to admire dresses and sneaked glances at us. When we turned to leave, a few of them approached. Aeas murmured a warning, then translated their words.

  “We are so happy for you both,” said the first.

  “We welcome you to the kingdom and pray for your happiness,” said another.

  The third offered her question with a crooked smile. “Shall we plan a celebration for summer?”

  Aeas reply was gentle, but seemed a rebuke nonetheless. He did not translate it.

  “I don’t understand,” I said as he led me away.

  “Weddings are a private matter, but usually there’s a celebration within the month after.”

  “And in this case, it would be a big celebration?” I asked.

  “A very big celebration. It’s been nearly three ages since he became eligible for marriage. Everyone wants to see him marry.” Aeas motioned to Eudora. “Finish your shopping, and we’ll meet you near the bakery.”

  As she walked away, I lifted my chin toward a pair of young women at the jeweler’s cart, who eyed me with pinched expressions. “Everyone except them.”

  Aeas followed my gaze. “The ocean would freeze before he would give his pendant to one of them. This way. You have to try the sweets at the bakery. They are like scones in your world, only better.”

  After stopping at the bakery, we sat at a table in the village square. Aeas bought a pastry for each of us and wrapped a third in paper for Eudora. I broke off a corner of the treat and tasted it. It was so light that it melted the moment it hit my tongue. The soft flavors of citrus and cinnamon were baked into the buttery crust. “This is really good,” I admitted.

  “There’s nothing like …” The friendly ease dropped from his face as a man approached us.

  The man was a bit younger than my dad with strawberry-blonde hair and stunning eyes of the strangest color. Violet. Ignoring Aeas, the man touched the center stone on my forehead, an amethyst, and spoke to me in what sounded like Greek.

  Through his teeth Aeas replied, and th
e man relented. He spoke to Aeas and let him translate.

  “A gift for the lovely lady, with my congratulations,” the man said. He laid open a small wooden box that contained a pair of hair combs with diamond accents. I was no jeweler, but they looked real, and the gold was braided over the stones so delicately, I was sure it was done by hand, though I couldn’t figure how.

  Aeas’s jaw clenched tight, and I tried to understand why.

  “Thank you,” I said and Aeas gathered his composure enough to mutter my reply.

  The older man bowed slightly and walked away.

  An awkward silence followed. “That was nice of him?” I offered.

  “It was sly of him.”

  “Who is he?”

  “He’s from another kingdom. Erik will not be happy that he spoke to you.” His eyes fell to the open box on the table between us. “The gift will not please him.”

  Chapter 8

  The sun sat on the horizon when we arrived at the palace. It would still be an hour before dark fully fell and Erik ventured back into my company. I went upstairs alone. I ran my hand along the wall to find the dial for the lights in the living room. Erik’s society didn’t have electricity, but the upper floor of the palace did. I learned from Aeas that Erik installed the system himself. He diverted a stream into the lower levels of the palace to create the bathing area, and the excess water fell to the valley floor after turning hydroelectric turbines. It wasn’t enough power to run a village, but it was enough for six rooms upstairs.

  Sea air blew through the living room. The day had been pleasant, even with the strained encounter in the square, but it was all just a prelude that left me restless. I couldn’t sit.

  At the far end of the room was a large cabinet, a built-in that looked like a closet. Curious, I crossed the room and pulled open the door. “Oh, yes!” I exclaimed.

  Blessed be Erik’s love of my world. The cabinet contained a stereo, DVD player, and a flat-screened television. Six shelves on one side were lined with CDs, while the four on the other side were crammed full of DVDs. An iPod sat on the shelf in front of the stereo.