#king polydectes

Perseus, with Medusa’s severed head:

Giving Alkimos a pat on his mess of a mane, Perseus quickly gathered up the luxuries His Grace had sent them before sending the donkey to graze while he met with the King.

Carrying such a weighty package on his back, Perseus could not believe his eyes at the amount of beauty that was in the palace. The walls and columns, which were made of marble, featured carvings of divine scenes Beautiful linen curtains of crimson with designs of flora and fauna woven into them hang on each wall of the Megaron, framing the royal dais were an impossibly magnificent throne sat with golden designs of seashells emblazoned on the back. On either side of Perseus was a table longer than their entire cave, where a man was happily chowing down on food the youth had only seen at the feast the king had brought them a month ago. Even the air smelled of rich perfumes and incenses. Honestly, Perseus was afraid to touch anything, even the floor in case he might’ve brought some muck or dirt that could lay some waste to the elegant splendor of this place.

“Aw, Young Perseus!” King Polydectes approached from his left, adorned in gold, bronze, and dyed linens, his crown gleaming under the golden light of the afternoon sun, accompanied by two slave girls who wore gowns that exposed their rather prominent breasts. Quickly, Perseus averted his eyes, half in embarrassment and half in propriety as Polydectes slumped onto his throne before gesturing the adolescent closer.

“I do so hope you bring good news, my boy,” Polydectes said as one of the enslaved girls handed him a golden goblet and poured what Perseus presumed was some high-end mead. He took a long gulp of it before wiping his mouth with the back of his great muscled arm. “How is your sweet mother, by the way? I hope she has enjoyed my little trifles.”

Little? Perseus thought. He wasn’t sure how meager gold necklaces and hairpins emblazoned with jewels and bolts of the finest woven silks from far-off lands to the east were merely trifles. “Well…uh…” Perseus said, finding the floor far less intimidating than the human kind on his stone throne. “I came to bring back your gifts on behalf of my mother and Master. They are more than generous, but…well…” ”What? Have the gods taken your tongue, boy?!” Polydectes boomed as the rest of the court laughed with him, and Perseus’s face an even harsher shade of red. “Come, lad, spit it out!”

“My mother wanted to return them,” Perseus said in the strongest voice he could, and suddenly the silence died and the whispers began. He could feel the king’s gaze on him shift from one of amusement to one of cold questioning.

“She didn’t appreciate them?” King Polydectes asked, well more, demanded of Perseus.

“No. Absolutely not! She is utterly grateful, but she feels unworthy of having the attentions of such a mighty king.”

“Attentions?” the king repeated, and Perseus peeked out from under his bangs to see that there was something behind the king’s brown eyes that Perseus did not, well, would not name. “She feels she is unworthy of me.”

Perseus looked back to the floors. “Yes…um…My mother says that she is much too old and lowly for a mighty king and that she already has a child out of wedlock, born of the king of the skies. In her mind, she believes a future bride should receive these gifts over her, a simple woman who only lives here by the grace of you, oh king.”

The room went utterly silent. Perseus said nothing. Polydectes said nothing. The slave girls at the king’s side and his court stared at this interaction, and Perseus felt every eye on him. Did he do the right thing? Did the king understand? Would he accept his mother’s rejection?

Perseus dared to look at the king and saw his face was an unreadable mask. He did not move, nor did he scowl. He just stared, but when Perseus looked at the king’s hands, he saw the one not clutching his goblet was gripping the throne’s armrest until his knuckles were a deep white.

What did this mean? Perseus looked back to the ground and to the open door where two of the king’s guards were. His throat suddenly felt quite dry seeing this, and he gulped to recover some moisture there.

Suddenly, a thundering roar of laughter burst out from King Polydectes, which was quickly followed by a similar crack of laughter from the assembly. It seemed only Perseus didn’t understand what joke was so humorous that it could cause this reaction.

“My, my,” King Polydectes said as he allowed his half-drunk goblet of mead fall to the ground, staining the marble with saffron yellow which one of the bare-breasted slave girls quickly went to clean up. However, as Perseus had focused on this he didn’t notice until Polydectes was right in front of him, until a hand clapped, well slammed onto his shoulder and the king stood before him smiling ear to ear. However, this smile was not like Old Man Dictys’s. It was all teeth and far too wide, sort of like a cat Perseus thought to himself. “She sure has a high opinion of herself, doesn’t she?”

“W-what?” the youth awkwardly sputtered out.

“I mean, she truly I believed I sent those gifts for her? I was just playing a jest on my dear brother Dictys.” A jest? Perseus thought, but why…why would the king spend so much to humor Old Man Dictys? “Of course, I would never go for a woman who’s never even been wed and yet has been bred by Zeus I suppose,” Perseus gritted his teeth at that. His mother was not a horse, and there was something about his tone that made the youth deeply uncomfortable.