Psyche hadn't planned on being kidnapped on her daily walk around the outskirts of the city today, but unfortunately the Fates had taken one look at her wandering along the path and said to themselves, 'Absolutely not.'

Not only had they decided her walk was to be concluded with immediate effect, but they had also chosen to have her kidnapped by a wind. Blown away into the sky, much to the shock of her maid walking beside her.

'What's happening?' she had shrieked as Psyche was swept unceremoniously into the air. Psyche, who privately thought her maid was a bit stupid, tried to shout back 'What does it look like?'

Instead, she began hurtling away through the air, thrashing and screaming and wondering when she was going to wake up from this terrible nightmare.

The princess finds herself flying along high above the ground, her hair plastered to her face, unable to see for tears and limbs numb with cold. The sound of rushing wind fills her ears, so loud it hurts almost as much as the stinging, icy air against her skin.

Minutes pass and, as the initial fear of being hoisted upwards into nothingness and driven forward fades, Psyche stops her thrashing and clamps her mouth shut, concentrating instead on breathing, a task made very difficult given how quickly she is travelling. She clutches at her hair and clothes, desperate to hold on to something (dignity isn't an option anymore), and tries to count in her head, eyes squeezed tightly shut, trying to distract herself from thinking about how she could fall at any moment.

She has almost counted to two hundred when she feels herself slowing; she reaches two hundred and twenty before she finds the courage to open her eyes. Another shriek escapes her when she realises just how high in the air she is: hundreds of feet above the ground.

A forest sprawls beneath her, tall cypresses and olive trees so tightly packed together she can't see the ground. Mountains rise not far ahead of her where she is now slowly descending, clutching still at her dress and hair, the sun sinking with her between blue sky and grey clouds.

Shadows cast by the mountains shroud a large portion of the dense forest, but the part below and just before her is still lit by the sun, the trees painted yellow and orange in the dying glow. It would be beautiful if she wasn't convinced she was about to die.

Despite the view, it is the palace Psyche is focused on, not just because of its expansive grandeur and because it looks so out of place in the middle of the forest, but because it seems to be her destination. There is a large clearing beyond the palace, which grows larger and larger until she is right over it.

When her feet touch the ground, Psyche finds that her legs don't work. She thuds to her knees unceremoniously and the impact pulls the breath from her. She can taste blood. Kneeling in the glow of the great palace before her she wonders if it was built for the sole purpose of hiding, nestled as deep in the dense forest as it is.

It looks much bigger from down here than it had from the air, and far more ominous. She looks down and clutches at the ground beneath her, digging her fingers into the grass and dirt, feeling nothing except her heart pounding against her rib cage.

The sun is still setting behind her, casting an orange glow over the tallest of the palace's turrets, turning the bleached-white brick golden. She feels totally exposed in the great clearing before the palace this far from the trees, and it's this that encourages her legs to remember how to hold her up.

Damp grass sticks to her arms and the smell of wet foliage clings to her as she stumbles forwards towards the palace through the eerie silence. Nothing inside the walls before her can be scarier than the thought of what lies in the cooling forest around her.

It looks so obscenely out of place in the middle of this woodland. Psyche has the shuddering realisation, as she crunches across the gravel to the entrance that it looks extremely well looked after, if not newly built. Surely it should be derelict, left out here in the middle of nowhere with no one to look after it?

Another horrible thought occurs to her there might be someone inside. People, plural.

A large, oak door looms before her, at least double her height, and she stops, shivering slightly in the cool air. A summer dress isn't necessarily what she would have chosen to have been abandoned in a forest in, but here she is.

It's disconcertingly quiet, the only sound her own shallow breathing and the quiet rustling of the trees.

She knocks with an abruptness that shocks her. Withdrawing her hand quickly she takes a step back and attempts to brush some of the grass from her forearms and elbows, noticing grass stains on the crumpled white dress which falls to her knees. One of her rings is missing. The light is fading quickly, and it's getting colder.

She waits.

Nothing.

Again she pounds the door with her fist before hugging her arms around her torso and not daring to look back towards the forest and the fading light. Paranoia overtakes her as she waits for someone to answer the door, growing surer by the second that it's not going to happen. She feels as though someone is watching her and clutches at her elbows, hunching her shoulders and drawing her arms further into her chest as the back of her neck prickles uncomfortably.

Crack.

The sound of a twig snapping behind her sends her flying forward, grabbing at the door handle desperately, a scream caught low in her throat. In her panic she doesn't question what she might be running into as the huge door creaks open nauseatingly slowly, despite her pushing it with everything she has.

She launches herself inside the moment there's room between the door and the wall before yanking it shut behind her with a great thud that echoes all around and high above her like a clap of thunder. Her eyes are tight shut, chest tight with fear, heart hammering against her ribcage.

For a few seconds she stands there, her back pressed against the door, trying to calm her breath. She doesn't hear anything from outside.

She opens her eyes and stops breathing all together, this time in awe. Never before has she seen such a magnificent hall. Every aspect has clearly been meticulously designed and crafted, from the gilding on the ceiling to the tiles on the floors. Candles flicker all around the entrance hall, illuminating the space and casting long shadows across the walls.

Ornate chandeliers hang from high ceilings, further lighting up two grand, sweeping staircases which rise to a first-floor mezzanine. It's all white and gleaming gold—hang on. Gleaming?

Her blood runs cold as she realises something she should have noticed the minute she stepped inside. The palace is lit.

Someone is here.

So tightly strung are her nerves that when she turns and sees the figure stood behind her, she lets out a piercing shriek which is immediately muffled by her hand which flies to cover her mouth.

'Zeus,' she gasps, dropping her hand to her chest and pressing to make sure her heart hasn't stopped. The figure, an extraordinarily handsome young man, has reacted to her abrupt arrival only by staring at her in a most odd, almost enamoured manner.

He still hasn't spoken, or in fact reacted at all, which after a few seconds becomes slightly annoying.

'What are you doing?' Psyche snaps, still half convinced she has just narrowly avoided having a heart attack. The man blinks, his expression changing to utter bemusement.

'But... wha—'

'How did you get here? Do you live here?' Psyche interrupts, impatient for answers. He just stands there frowning at her, his mouth slightly open to reveal a perfect upper row of pearly teeth.

'Hello?' she half shouts, waving a hand in front of his face, frustration making her brave. This seems to snap him out of his stupor and he straightens abruptly.

'I'm Eros. You know, the god of love?' he tells her casually, as if he'd been commenting on the weather outside. Psyche's mouth falls open unattractively, and Eros frowns. 'You're supposed to have fallen in love with me by now.'

'What?'

Eros moves towards her and reaches out a hand as though to touch her. Instinctively, Psyche smacks his outreached hand away.

'Ow!' he complains, withdrawing his hand and clutching it to his chest.

'Don't touch me!' Psyche says hysterically. 'You have kidnapped me, and I demand that you send me home.'

'I'd rather not,' Eros frowns. 'You're still not in love with me? Here, try looking into my eyes properly.'

'No!' Psyche exclaims, taking several steps backwards, casting her eyesight away from Eros.

'Look, allow me to explain,' he offers, flashing her what she presumes is meant to be a dazzling smile. He manages only to terrify her even more, and seeing the expression on her face stops smiling instantly.

'My mother Aphrodite, you've heard of her I'm sure. She got jealous about some of your city-folk worshipping you instead of her or some similar folly. Something about you being more beautiful than her? Anyway, she's sent me to take revenge on you. But how could I when you are, indeed, nothing short of divine... are you listening to me?'

Psyche is staring at a nearby sconce in horror. If the goddess Aphrodite is upset with her, then she is as good as dead.

'Psyche?' Eros asks hopefully. 'Are you falling in love?'

'You have just kidnapped me and issued me a death sentence. So, no. Falling in love with you is not at the top of my to do list currently,' she replies, and Eros scowls at the floor.

'Perhaps later tonight then. Are you hungry?'

He claps his hands together and they appear in a huge dining hall; Psyche promptly falls over. A large table in the middle of the room groans with food, crispy potatoes glazed in fat, vibrant, steaming vegetables, jugs of wine and water, and a large suckling pig on a platter at the centre. Psyche thinks she might be about to pass out as Eros hauls her back to her feet.

'What do you think?' he asks her, clearly delighted with himself.

'I'm vegetarian,' she replies hoarsely, right as a group of five people enter the room.

'Psyche.' The woman closest smiles kindly and takes a step towards her. 'I'm Agatha, the housekeeper. Welcome—'

'Someone had better tell me what's going on here and how I can get home right now,' Psyche interrupts her in what would have been a rude fashion if Agatha hadn't been complicit in her kidnapping. If she is taken aback by Psyche's rude tone, she doesn't show it.

'I'm afraid that's not possible, sweetheart. I'm sure Eros has told you by now.'

'Rubbish. You must know how to get to the nearest town,' Psyche scoffs, further enraged by her use of the term of endearment, still feeling lightheaded. Agatha just shakes her head, looking as though she feels quite sorry for her, which Psyche abhors.

'I don't, but I do know how to cook, and if you sit down—'

'What, so you can poison me? I think not,' Psyche says staunchly.

'Alright, don't eat. But we're going to,' she says, turning and walking to the table. The others follow her, smiling vaguely at nothing in particular.

'It's not poisoned,' Eros says from behind her. She turns to looks at him; he looks as though he's taken the news of her being vegetarian quite hard. He's so gorgeous it's almost painful to look at him for more than a few seconds.

'Are there more people here?'

'Probably. I can't remember how many I brought along, it's been quite stressful getting this place ready for your arrival,' he says, watching her face carefully while he talks.

'Still not in love,' Psyche tells him, and he rolls his eyes before walking over to the table and sitting down. As he goes, Psyche realises she is in fact quite hungry.

'Again, not poisoned,' Eros calls over to her, picking up and biting into a potato as he sits down.

Psyche is fighting a furious internal battle: brain versus stomach. Dignity versus hunger and thirst. The smell of those potatoes...

She tentatively makes her way over to the table and sits down next to Agatha, opposite Eros. 'Help yourself,' Agatha tells her, gesturing at the spread on the table and Psyche obliges, determinedly avoiding eye contact with both Eros and the roasted pig.

It's hard to keep track of her surroundings while confronted by food when she's this hungry, but Psyche tries to regardless, still suspicious. She notices nothing except how neatly Eros is eating, even though he's practically stuffing his face. How is he doing it? He looks across the table and meets her eye once or twice; she looks away quickly every time this happens, feeling his gaze on her like something physical.

'How long are you likely to keep us here Eros?' one of the men asks amiably as he chews.

'I would imagine that depends on our guest here,' Agatha replies, and Eros nods, his mouth full. Then everyone is looking at Psyche.

'What do you mean, depends on me?' Psyche asks, her heart sinking.

'How long it takes for you to fall in love with me,' Eros says casually, shovelling another forkful of food into his mouth.

'Is no one else finding this utterly absurd?' Psyche enquires to the rest of the table.

'Not really.'

'Sounds fair enough to me.'

'It's no use trying to sway them. They all love me,' Eros smiles, and everyone around the table looks back at him ardently.

'You've brainwashed them all?' Psyche realises.

'Brainwashed, no. Everyone just loves me. They can't help it.'

'Not me,' she tells him stubbornly.

'Well then, I suppose we'd all better make ourselves at home hadn't we?'

Psyche loses her appetite quite quickly after that.

A while later, Eros leans back in his chair and stifles a small belch as he finishes his food. 'That was amazing.'

'Thank you,' Agatha says, inclining her head. It is now pitch dark beyond the windows of the dining hall, and the light has dimmed to a gradient which is making Psyche feel distinctly sleepy. She fights not to show it, struggling to feel scared or angry now she is well fed and, apparently, safe.

'I can show you to your room now, if you'd like. Unless you have room for dessert?' Agatha asks. Eros seems to sit up a little straighter, but Psyche balks at the thought of another mouthful.

'I have a room?' she asks, trying to sound confrontational.

'Of course you have a room,' Agatha replies, looking bemused. 'Where else would you be sleeping?'

'I don't know, the dungeon?' Psyche suggests. 'You have kidnapped me.'

Agatha doesn't seem to have an answer for that, sighing as she stands up and gestures for her to follow.

'See you in the morning my flower,' Eros calls to her as she leaves, and Psyche sends him a hand gesture over her shoulder which she would never have been allowed to get away with had she been at home.

'Agatha. You have to tell me how to get out of here. My family will be so worried, I can't stay here,' Psyche says to the woman as she leads her down a corridor to the hall in which she had met Eros and up one of the sweeping staircases.

'There's no escaping here. Forget about it,' Agatha tells her.

'But don't you want to get out? Won't your family miss you?'

Agatha frowns like she's forgotten something, but then smiles absently. 'We're safe here with Eros. He'll look after us; you too. Here we are,' she says, turning to gesture towards a doorway to her right before Psyche can reply. 'This is yours. See you in the morning.'

Left alone as the sound of her footsteps fade, Psyche feels as vulnerable and exposed in the empty corridor as when she had stood outside in the clearing. Pushing the door open, she walks into a sizeable room with a large four-poster bed against the far wall.

Seeing the bed, she finds herself exhausted. There are simple night clothes laid out for her but she climbs beneath the duvet fully clothed, pausing only to kick off her muddied shoes. The lights seem to dim as she closes her eyes, and she falls asleep instantly.

In her dream, Psyche finds herself stood before Aphrodite. The goddess towers above her, radiating power and beauty beyond anything she has ever seen. Behind her eyes lie a lifetime of derision and judgement, and it is currently all directed at Psyche. She has to lower her eyes from the goddess' face as she stands in her presence.

'As if any mortal girl could be more beautiful than me,' the goddess scorns, her voice dripping with contempt.

'Please don't kill me,' Psyche says. 'Eros would probably be quite upset if you did.'

'That runt,' Aphrodite spits, rage flashing like lightning across her cruel, perfect features. 'He's too soft for his own good. He'll perish along with you, and good riddance.'

'I'm not actually planning on perishing any time soon,' Psyche replies, still looking at her feet, emboldened by the fact she's in a dream. Aphrodite gives a maliciously delighted gasp.

'You think you're safe because you're dreaming? You think my worthless, pathetic excuse for a son can protect you from my might?' the goddess asks, her voice becoming so deafeningly piercing Psyche feels as though her head might split in two.

'No,' she whispers, squeezing her eyes tight shut.

Aphrodite laughs coldly, and the sound sends chills down Psyche spine as the goddess leans deliberately down towards her. 'I don't need to kill you, Psyche. You're quite capable of doing that yourself.'

The atmosphere seems to shift. She feels warmer, and less afraid. Opening her eyes, she finds herself back at home in the throne room of her palace, stood before the king and queen: her parents.

'Phew,' Psyche says, relief flooding her. 'I was having the most awful dream—'

'Well hang on, you haven't woken up yet,' her father interrupts, and Psyche sighs. 'The Oracle has declared that you will marry a monster even the gods fear.'

'Oh,' Psyche says glumly, still reeling from her encounter with Aphrodite. 'That's not ideal.'

'Quite,' her mother nods solemnly. 'Can you imagine the wedding? What if the monster were to get hungry during the ceremony?'

'It'd be a bloodbath,' her father sighs, shaking his head at the thought of such an inconvenience.

'I'm being held prisoner in a palace in a forest somewhere by Eros. Can you come and find me?' Psyche asks.

'Well, you'll have to be a bit more specific.'

'There are quite a lot of trees.'

Her father tuts as though it's her fault that she's been kidnapped. 'Sounds like you'll have to make your own way home. Don't be too long, will you? Your sisters miss you terribly.'

Sunlight is streaming through the windows on to her face when Psyche wakes. She blinks, blinded momentarily by the brightness of it, trying to remember where she is. It is a few seconds before she realises someone is knocking on her door.

'Psyche?'

It's Agatha. 'Are you awake? It's almost midday.'

'No,' Psyche calls back, instantly awake, throwing the duvet back and running to the large window which is letting in so much sunlight.

Through it she can see down into a tidy interior courtyard of the palace where two gardeners are hard at work at one of the flowerbeds, colourful flowers bursting from the soil into their hands. Beyond that is the clearing she'd first stood in yesterday evening, and then the forest and the mountains and the sky, in which the sun has indeed already reached its highest point.

Psyche turns her attention downwards. It's a long way, and even if she could make it she would only end up in the courtyard, and that's before even considering making it to the forest and what lies beyond. Before her thoughts can extend any further, the door opens behind her and Agatha steps into the room.

'I do hope you weren't thinking of jumping.'

Psyche opens her mouth to retort sassily, but before she can Agatha is upon her, tutting and fussing at her clothes. 'Look, all muddied and crumpled. And your hair, I've never seen such a tangled mess in all my life!'

'That might have something to do with the hurricane which dumped me here yesterday,' Psyche scoffs. The housekeeper takes a step back and looks at her seriously.

'If I were you I would stop your complaining and let me fix your appearance so that young Eros doesn't flee at the sight of you.'

'That sounds ideal,' Psyche mutters, but allows the housekeeper to lead her over to the vanity and sit her down.

'Have you worked out how to escape?' Psyche asks.

'I told you before, it's impossible,' Agatha repeats with a tone as gentle as the motions with which she's moving the brush through her hair. Psyche sighs dramatically.

One hour later she is washed and fed once more, wearing a clean new dress and walking out into the sun-drenched courtyard which she'd seen through her window this morning. She is feeling highly optimistic about finding a way to escape. Agatha hasn't given her any shoes, but she's not going to let that stop her. The flowers smell deliciously fragrant in the warm air, and it's pleasantly quiet except for the buzzing of some insects and the quiet scrape of a gardeners trowel.

'Don't go too far,' the housekeeper had warned her while she ate, correctly guessing what Psyche was about to attempt. She has not seen Eros since last night in the dining hall, and decides that she doesn't care enough to ask after his whereabouts.

'Good afternoon, miss,' one of the gardeners nods to her as she passes, and she finds herself, strangely, smiling at him before deciding to question him.

'How do I get out of here?'

'Out of the palace?'

'Yes. Obviously.'

'Why would you want to leave?' he asks, squinting at her, shielding his eyes from the sun.

Psyche marvels at just how deluded Eros has managed to make these people. 'I don't like being told what I can and can't do,' she replies.

'Aren't you a princess?'

'Yes. What's that got to do with anything?'

'Well, isn't your whole life dictated by people telling you what you can and can't do?'

Grudgingly, Psyche has to admit that he has a point.

'I suppose,' she replies, looking around the garden properly for the first time. It is filled with wildflowers, her favourites, and she is overcome with the baffling want to smile. She doesn't though, because that would imply happiness, and she is still technically being held captive after being kidnapped. 'I believe I asked you a question?'

'I expect you could try the front door,' the gardener suggests, looking a little confused.

'It isn't locked?'

'Not to my knowledge.'

'Thank you,' Psyche nods, and sets off once more. This time she finds her way back to the dining hall and then retraces the route that she and Agatha had taken last night.

When she reaches the front entrance she puts her hand on the ornate black handle and pulls it down towards her, and the door opens exhaustingly slowly with a loud, drawn-out groan.

The second the gap between the door and the frame is large enough, she squeezes through, leaving the door open behind her. She crunches across the gravel towards the clearing, wincing at the sharp stones beneath her feet and blinking in the sunlight which feels deliciously warm on her skin. It's a relief to reach the grass, cool and soft against her feet.

She walks towards the forest until she's in the middle of the clearing before the palace and then stops, turning to look back at the building, a shock of white against the dense, khaki green trees and cerulean sky behind it. A prison disguised as a haven.

'Why would you want to leave?' the gardener had asked her. But why would she stay?

She turns her back on the palace and, bracing herself, marches decisively into the forest without so much as a backwards glance. Unbeknownst to her, Agatha and Eros stand together behind one of the palace's many windows, watching her.

'Aren't you going to try and stop her?' Agatha asks him.

'No,' Eros sighs. 'She'll be back.'

It's much cooler amongst the trees of the forest. There are snatches of sunlight here and there, but the sky is mostly obscured by branches and pines looking down on her oppressively as Psyche strides forward, not knowing or particularly caring where she's headed. As far as she's concerned, if it's away from Eros, it's the right direction.

She walks and walks, trying to avoid twigs and stones to spare her feet and not looking behind her once. It's quiet between the trees, only occasional birdsong, the babbling of a nearby stream and the sound of her footsteps.

Her legs are beginning to ache by the time she sees a break in the trees ahead of her. She runs towards it, delighted at herself for having deceived a god, only to have the smile wiped from her face when she sees where she has emerged.

The palace looms arrogantly before her, looking down on her as if to say like you could deceive a god, trifling mortal. Psyche glares at the palace as though it has just committed a terrible crime and turns around, marching straight back into the forest.

'Oh, for crying out loud,' Eros sighs, watching from a sunny balcony as Agatha brings him a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice with three ice cubes, a paper umbrella and a straw.

'Ought you not go after her?' she suggests.

'No. I have something else in mind,' he replies, sipping the drink as Psyche's pale form disappears back into the oppressive darkness of the forest. Agatha sits down next to him to watch his plan unfold.

Nothing happens for a minute or so, but then there's an ear splitting shriek from within the forest, followed by an even louder roar which sounds as though it comes from the jaws of a large creature. Agatha looks at Eros in alarm as birds swarm from the trees, screeching in alarm, but Eros looks perfectly relaxed, stretching his arms above his head, his gaze fixed on the edge of the forest.

Seconds later, Psyche comes tearing out of the forest, moving astonishingly quickly, closely followed by an enormous, bounding chimera which looks from a distance like a lion with a snakes tail. 'Gods!' Agatha gasps, standing up abruptly. 'Eros, do something!'

'Yes, I probably should,' he sighs as though he hadn't moments previously caused the exact problem he now finds himself having to resolve.

Psyche, sprinting across the grass with the utter conviction that she is about to be torn limb from limb, sees Eros appear suddenly in front of her and throws herself sideways to avoid colliding with him. She hits the ground and waits to be eaten, but instead hears a soft chuckle and something which sounds awfully like purring.

Shaking, she rolls over to see the chimera on its back, legs in the air, Eros crouched next to it rubbing its belly.

'Were you going somewhere?' he asks her, cocking his head to the side as the chimera blinks lovingly up at him.

'Did you just have a chimera chase me?' Psyche gasps, sitting up and trying to catch her breath after her impromptu hundred metre dash from the forest.

'Me? No,' Eros replies unconvincingly, looking down at the beast which is now drooling heavily.

'I don't know if you've done this before, but usually when a man is trying to court a woman he does not set a rabid beast loose to chase her,' Psyche tells him, struggling to her feet and pulling grass from her hair.

'I'm not a man, I'm a god!' Eros explodes, standing up in anger. Psyche sees some of his mother's rage burning behind his eyes, before she turns and begins walking back towards the forest.

'Psyche,' Eros yells after her in annoyance. 'Come back.'

'I'd sooner be eaten by your pet,' she shouts over her shoulder.

'Fine,' Eros shouts back, and Psyche takes off running again.

Five hours later, exhausted and bruised all over from running away from Eros' chimera and having been dragged through the forest multiple times, Psyche finds herself back in the dining hall. Her feet are practically torn to shreds; Agatha has had to clean and bind them.

'I hate to say I told you so,' Agatha had said, bumping her arm.

'Then don't,' Psyche suggested.

Now, she stabs at her food with a fork dejectedly, listening to the others chat away happily while they eat.

The next day she explores further, walking around the palace to the gardens and entering the forest from that direction instead. She can practically feel Eros watching her from the palace as she disappears into the trees yet again. It's not long before she begins to hear rushing water, and moves quickly towards the sound.

The trees become less dense, and she emerges out from the forest on to a grassy bank which drops away sharply about ten feet ahead of her. The stream which she had heard earlier in the forest has turned into a river, which becomes a waterfall as the ground falls away beneath it. She walks tentatively towards the space where the ground disappears and peers over the edge to see a sheer cliff face, stretching down for about two hundred feet.

The river continues for a little while at the base of the cliff where the ground becomes sand, beyond which is an ocean for as far as Psyche can see. The sound of the waterfall must have been drowning out the sound of the waves. She sits down on the grass and contemplates the potential escape route.

There's a soft growl from behind her, and she freezes, then turns slowly to see the chimera stood at the edge of the forest. It's not running or roaring at her though, which she takes as a good sign.

'Don't even think about dragging me back', she tells it sternly, and it blinks at her slowly in the bright sunlight. It pads unhurriedly towards her and she braces herself, but instead of trying to grab at her it sits down with a huff beside her and looks out at the sea. She glances sideways at the beast and, instead of feeling fear, finds herself marvelling at its majesty.

'He's trapped you here too, huh?' she says, and the beast snorts in response, its fur rippling softly in the breeze.

'We should team up. You could eat him and we could escape together,' Psyche suggests. The chimera is silent, and Psyche wonders how she came to be sat here, talking to a deadly beast.

'You can't understand me,' she says. The chimera blinks out at the sea. They sit together for a few more minutes, listening to the rush of the waterfall and enjoying the warmth of the sun before Psyche sighs and stands up.

She takes another look over the cliff edge, the chimera grunting loudly as she does, before stepping back and beginning to walk back towards the forest. 'Come on then,' she says, and the beast stands up and walks after her.

Eros is waiting for them at the forest edge when they return. 'Making friends with Olive?' he asks, smiling as she emerges from the trees with his new pet. Olive, Psyche thinks with disdain.

'She's the best company I've had since I arrived,' Psyche tells him, not stopping as she walks past him back towards the palace. The smile drops from Eros' face and he hurries after her.

'Where are you going?'

'I'm planning on finding some rope and abseiling down the cliff, then making a boat and sailing away,' she tells him. Eros laughs delightedly, then stops abruptly when he sees she's not smiling.

'You—you're joking,' he says seriously, striding to keep up with her.

'Sadly not,' she informs him grimly.

'Are you hearing this?' Eros asks Olive the chimera, who still can't speak or understand Greek.

Inside the palace, Psyche seeks out Agatha, who looks wildly uncomfortable upon seeing a chimera trailing behind her and Eros.

'Do you know if there's any rope around here?' Psyche asks her, looking around as though a five hundred foot coil of rope is likely to be lying around waiting for her to find. Agatha looks past her to Eros, and Psyche turns to see him wildly shaking his head at Agatha. He stops as soon as she turns.

'I honestly don't know,' Agatha tells her, her eyes settling uneasily on Olive who promptly walks across the room and knocks over a large pithos which smashes on the ground.

'No, that one had my face on it,' Eros complains, rushing to gather up the pieces. Olive continues wandering around the space, unbothered. Psyche takes the opportunity to dash away, an idea forming in her mind.

Two hours later she is back at the cliff edge with twenty-four bedsheets tied together, one from each bedroom she could find in the palace. She ties one end to the tree closest to the cliff edge and then heaves the rest of them over the side of the cliff, watching them fall down towards the beach along with the water. Her bedsheets stop short of the ground by about twenty-five feet. She sighs in frustration, looking at the sky. There's only about two hours until sunset.

'Good plan,' Eros says from beside her, and she shrieks, jerking away from him.

'Stop following me,' she scowls.

'Certainly not,' he replies, peering over the edge of the cliff at her makeshift rope. 'It's fallen a bit short there.'

'Yes. I am aware.'

'Looks dangerous,' he continues. 'What if you fall?'

'I imagine I'd die. Your mum would love that,' she tells him, and Eros frowns, stepping back from the cliff edge.

'What do you mean?'

'I had a dream that she told me she didn't need to kill me because I would do fine managing it by myself.'

'Zeus,' Eros says, staring at her. 'You really were going to try and climb down the cliff face, weren't you.'

'What does it look like?' Psyche asks, gesturing at the cliff.

'I thought you were just trying to annoy me.'

'I want to go home,' Psyche says. 'I thought that was obvious.''

'Can't get home if you're dead,' Eros quips helpfully.

'That's great, thank you,' Psyche snaps, looking down over the cliff. Her bedsheet rope is drifting sideways in the wind, and even as she watches it the bedsheet at the end of the chain slides and falls away, flying off towards the sea.

'Well,' Eros says, clapping his hands, and Psyche instantly falls over again as they find themselves abruptly back in the dining hall, where Agatha and some others are currently loading the table with food. Agatha shrieks as they appear, dropping a platter on to the table with an almighty crash.

'Stop it,' she says angrily, but Eros is talking over her.

'I have some business to attend to tomorrow, and when I return I expect to find you in one piece, got it?' he asks Psyche, sitting down at the table and pulling a dish of food towards him. She shakily gets to her feet as he clicks his fingers and flickering candles appear on the table before them.

'That means no hurling yourself over any cliffs,' he continues, gesturing for her to sit down. 'Olive will be watching you.' The chimera is currently snoozing in the corner of the room, and opens one eye to look at her lazily as Eros speaks before going back to sleep.

'Where are you going tomorrow? Off to kidnap someone else?'

'No, my mother wants me to have a mortal girl fall in love with a pig,' Eros tells her, munching away on his food.

'And that doesn't bother you at all?' Psyche asks him as Agatha sits down next to her, joined by some of the other housekeepers.

'Not really,' Eros shrugs.

True to his word, the day after Eros is nowhere to be seen, and Psyche is more determined than ever to be gone by the time he returns. She gathers more bedsheets, watched wearily by Agatha who seems to realise that there's no point trying to deter her from her plan, and makes another four bedsheet long chain to attach to her previous endeavour.

She walks back to the cliff face, and finds that her makeshift rope from yesterday is nowhere to be seen and so, swearing in frustration, she storms back to the palace to make another one, followed happily by Olive.

Finally she has a chain of bedsheets which touch the ground hanging over the side of the cliff, and she turns to look at Olive. 'Right, I know Eros told you not to let me do this, but I'm asking you nicely,' Psyche says to her. Olive just stares back at her. 'Thank you,' she replies, and turns back to her makeshift rope.

First she pulls on it with all of her weight to make sure that it's not going to come undone from the tree, and then, holding on for dear life, begins lowering herself over the cliff edge. Olive pads over to the edge to watch her descent.

The sound of the rushing waterfall fills her ears, countered only by the wild beating of her heart as she moves one hand over the other and climbs down, the bedsheets stretching dangerously in her hand and swaying in the wind.

Refusing to look down, scraping her knuckles and knees against the rough stone of the cliff edge, she clenches her teeth and tastes the metallic tang of blood. Olive gives an odd yelp from above her, pacing up and down the edge of the cliff in agitation.

It's only about a minute before her arms begin to ache, her hands sweating, her hair blowing wildly all about her face and into her eyes. She knows she's not even close to half way. Olive howls above her as Psyche loses her grip briefly, and then she's fighting just to hold on to the bedsheets, let alone move downwards along them.

Maybe this hadn't been such a brilliant idea after all. She stays perfectly still for a few seconds, dangling over the edge of the cliff and feeling her hands start to slip. Moments away from falling, an exasperated voice reaches her, carried down by the wind.

'Oh for crying out loud, Psyche.'

She manages a scowl even though she's potentially seconds from death.

'Leave me alone, Eros,' she shouts, clinging on for dear life.

'You'd really rather die than be here?'

'I'm not having this conversation with you right now!' Psyche screams as the wind bashes her against the cliff face, further scraping her shins and forearms. 'I'm busy!'

'I told you not to let her do this,' she hears Eros tell Olive, and then, as if in slow motion, the knot in front of her face slides apart, and she falls.

She screams, flailing for the rope which falls alongside her, but then realises without even having to open her eyes that she's sprawled on the grass in front of Eros, clutching at nothing.

'Are you insane?' Eros asks her. She rolls over and glares at him.

'Says the guy who's been away making a girl fall in love with a pig.'

'I had to do that. At least I don't make a habit of dangling myself from two hundred feet cliffs.'

'I only did that because you kidnapped me,' Psyche retorts, still trembling too much to be able to sit up. Olive touches her muzzle against Psyche's head as if to check if she's okay, and she strokes the chimera's nose gently.

Eros sits down on the ground next to her with a sigh. 'I only do the things I do because I have to. I have a reputation, and have to uphold the family name, blah blah blah,' he tells her, and Psyche frowns slightly, because she actually understands what he's talking about.

'Yeah, I've heard all that before,' she tells him grimly, finally finding the strength to sit upright.

'You have?'

'Yes. I'm a princess.'

'Oh, yeah,' he says. 'I knew that.'

They sit in silence for a moment, and Olive flops down to the ground behind them, resting her head on her paws.

'I'm sorry that I drove you to abseil off a cliff,' Eros says.

'If you were sorry, you'd let me leave,' Psyche replies flexing her fingers to try and regain feeling in them.

'I really can't. Aphrodite knows about this now, palaces don't just randomly appear in the middle of forests for no reason,' Eros tells her. 'If I let you go now she'll be even more disappointed in me than she already is.'

Psyche sighs. 'Why is she disappointed in you?'

'Aphrodite?' Eros asks. 'No clue. She just doesn't think I'm very impressive. I suppose she thinks love is for wusses; all she's interested in is making people miserable and brushing her hair. And we've never had the best relationship. She once turned my best friend into a fish and then tricked me into catching and eating him, all because I said I didn't want to kill a mortal girl who accidentally broke a cup in one of her temples.'

'She doesn't sound very much like someone worth impressing to me,' Psyche says, and Eros gapes at her. Somehow he still manages to look attractive, looking up at the sky as if Aphrodite is about to appear and dropkick her off of the cliff into the sea.

'You really don't fear anything, do you?'

'She already hates me. I'm as good as dead,' Psyche says dejectedly.

'Oh, is that why you've been so miserable?' he asks her.

'Apart from being kidnapped?'

'I already said sorry for that,' Eros sighs. 'I can't send you back.'

'Well. You could.'

'She'd kill you the minute you were outside of my protection,' he tells her, and Psyche hugs her knees to her chest. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen.'

'Stop saying sorry. It's getting annoying,' she tells him. 'Can you let my family know that I'm okay?'

'Yes. Of course.'

'Really?'

'Yes. Why didn't you ask before?'

'I... thought it was pretty explicit that that would have been something I might have liked,' Psyche tells him.

'Clearly we've started off on the wrong foot. I think we should start over,' Eros says, getting to his feet and holding out a hand to help her up. She pauses, and then takes it. The minute she's upright he claps his hands and they're back in the dining hall. Psyche manages to keep her balance this time.

'First on the agenda is that you stop doing that,' Psyche tells him.

'Okay. Done,' he says, holding up his hands. 'What else?'

Psyche looks at him. 'Anything?'

'Within reason,' Eros nods.

'What about letting everyone here go? Back to their families,' she asks. Eros frowns.

'But then we'd have no food,' he counters. Psyche sighs.

'You could hire people. And pay them,' she suggests, and Eros nods thoughtfully like he'd never heard of such a thing before.

'Interesting. Okay.'

Psyche catches sight of Olive pacing around behind Eros. 'You should let Olive go too.'

'Oh. Don't you like her?'

'No, I do. But she should be allowed to leave if she wants.'

'Okay,' he says, clapping his hands. Psyche braces herself, but nothing happens. 'Done,' he says. Olive blinks as though waking up from a trance, and leaps out of an open window, tearing off into the forest.

A moment later, Agatha wonders into the room, looking a bit lost. 'I think I want to go home,' she says to Eros.

'Go on then,' he replies with a soft smile.

As it turns out, everyone else wants to go home as well. Agatha bestows tight hugs on them both before she goes. 'He's a catch,' she whispers to Psyche, winking over her shoulder as she walks out of the door. A letter arrives from her parents by crow that same day, telling her how relieved they are that she is okay.

'I'm hungry,' Psyche says later that evening, sat in the dining hall which feels much larger without the usual bustle of people preparing dinner for them. She's been reading a book to pass the time.

'You told me to send everyone away!' Eros replies in exasperation.

'Yeah? I'm still hungry,' Psyche retorts, and Eros jerks to his feet, muttering something under his breath as a bow materialises in his hand and a quiver across his back as he strides out of the door. Psyche stands up and makes her way to the kitchen, creating a perfectly acceptable meal for herself with leftover bread, cheese and fruits.

A little while later Eros returns, carrying the carcass of a dead deer. 'Here,' he says, dropping it unceremoniously on the table, before realising that Psyche has already eaten.

'Thank you Eros,' Psyche says. 'That's really romantic of you.'

'Well what was I supposed to do?' he asks.

'There was food left in the kitchen. Vegetarian food, which I wouldn't have had to behead and skin,' Psyche tells him, eyeing the deer apprehensively.

'You could have said that before I shot a deer,' Eros says in annoyance, dropping down into a chair and putting his face in his hands. 'I'm really bad at this, aren't I,' he mumbles.

'A bit,' Psyche says, beginning to grin. 'But at least you're trying. And it's a step up from setting a chimera on me.'

'Yeah. That wasn't great,' Eros admits, watching the table tiredly as he waves a hand and makes the deer carcass vanish.

The next day the new staff arrive and the palace feels like normal again, alive with activity rather than empty and silent. For the first time since she arrived, Psyche doesn't spend the day trying to escape. Instead, her and Eros discuss her family coming to visit, and she finds herself not hating spending time with him.

Her family arrive a few days later. They are, of course, immediately smitten with Eros.

'Really, Psyche, we would have allowed you to leave if we'd known you were being courted by this lovely young man,' her mum tells her, shooting Eros a smile, watched suspiciously by her dad. 'You didn't have to run away like you did.'

'I told you, I was kidnapped,' Psyche says for the tenth time, but no one believes her. 'And I don't know if we're courting, exactly—'

'When's the wedding?' her dad asks absently, looking around at the palace interior appreciatively.

'Oh, we're not getting married,' Psyche laughs, and there's a shocked silence.

'Why ever not?' her mum asks. Eros is watching her, and when Psyche turns to look at him he half raises an eyebrow at her as if to repeat her mum's sentiment. Why not?

Why would you want to leave?

'Well, because he hasn't asked me yet,' Psyche shrugs. Eros smiles radiantly at her, and she finds herself smiling back.

'That can easily be resolved.'