Chapter 7

Eurydice was struck by the awkward silence that befell her and Orpheus as they made their way through the valley of Asphodel. It wasn’t comfortable. Even after decades apart, it should at the very least be comfortable to reunite with one’s spouse…right? Eurydice’s thoughts were spinning as she tried to focus on the sinking feeling in her stomach.

She spared a quick glance at Orpheus, trying to discern the expression on his face. He seemed content, if a little puzzled, which was likely how anyone felt arriving in the Underworld. It was not every day that a mortal died—although mortals died every day. The experience was incredibly personal. Eurydice knew that much from spending forty years in the Underworld. The memories of her life in Greece were all but background noise now, practically impossible to distinguish from a dream.

While he had undoubtedly aged throughout his lifespan, he’d reverted to the Orpheus that Eurydice recognized; if she could say she recognized him at all. He looked truly, from his head to his toes, like a favorite of Apollo. In the sunlight, he could even pass for Apollo’s son. Orpheus was impossibly charming, with clear green eyes and curly blonde hair.

One thing that Eurydice would never be able to forget was the constant barrage of comments she got from her fellow nymphs and dryads. They all fell in love with Orpheus at first glance. He had an ethereal beauty that was uncommon for human men, therefore ensnaring all the forest folk, but Eurydice viewed it differently. Orpheus was attractive, no person with vision could deny it, but she saw those pretty features every time she looked at a flower or a tree full of spring blooms. Orpheus’s beauty wasn’t uncommon; it was only uncommon in men.

If people looked beyond their own noses at the world around them more often, Orpheus’s beauty wouldn’t astound them so.

Eurydice almost physically recoiled at her own sharp thoughts, a sense of guilt beginning to stir with the nausea she hadn’t been able to shake.

That’s a horrible thing to say about your husband…

As if he could read her thoughts, Orpheus chose that moment to reach across the short distance between them and gently capture Eurydice’s hand in his. She fumbled for a quick second, unaccustomed to the casual touch, before rather awkwardly interlacing her fingers with Orpheus’s. Eurydice picked her head up and met Orpheus’s gaze, her heart lifting to find a pleasant smile now etched across his features.

Maybe this isn’t going as badly as I thought?

“I know this is a lot,” Orpheus blurted suddenly, “but I think that’s to be expected.”

“Right,” Eurydice agreed, forcing a wide smile on her face, “it’s going to be a little bizarre after so much time.”

Orpheus looked pleased with himself, sparing a glance around at the sloping valley walls. The forests of Asphodel were coming up on the horizon, with Eurydice leading the way to the small homestead that she had laid claim to over the past forty years.

“I don’t even know how long it’s been,” Eurydice admitted with a sigh. “I mean, I know how much time has passed, but some days it doesn’t feel real.”

“What is it like?” Orpheus prodded gently, swinging their hands between them. A cold chill went down Eurydice’s back as she tried to push back the mild feeling of revulsion at Orpheus’s sweaty palm against hers, once again trying to convince herself that it was simply an adjustment.

It’s going to take time getting used to having a man around you again, all the time.

“Being dead?” Eurydice clarified.

“Yes,” Orpheus urged her to go on. “I know what it’s like to be alive.” He forced a little bit of laughter as if trying to make a joke that wasn’t landing.

“You’ll forget after a while.” Eurydice shrugged. “What it feels like to be alive. It sort of…falls away, after everything. I hardly remember my life in Greece.”

Orpheus stopped walking and stared at Eurydice, a horrified expression on his face. Eurydice’s eyes widened, and another wave of panic crept up the back of her neck.

Did I say something wrong?

“What do you mean by that?” Orpheus insisted. “How can you forget what it was like to be alive? You don’t remember your life?”

Eurydice was struck by the fact that Orpheus wasn’t trying to clarify whether she remembered him at all. She shrugged.

“I remember it. If I think about it for a long time, then parts of it come back to me. The memories are there. It’s as though I don’t want to access them. It happens to everyone the longer they’ve been in the Underworld. Your mortal life is such a short timespan. You spend nearly eternity here, so…everything that was before fades away,” Eurydice trailed off, not knowing if she was helping or making the conversation even more awkward than it already was.

Orpheus started walking towards the tree line again, but he didn’t reach for Eurydice’s hand again. He looked horrified by the news, as if this was brand-new information for him.

“I don’t ever want to forget my life,” Orpheus admitted, his voice sounding hollow. “I accomplished many things in Greece and to forget they ever happened… Well…” Orpheus made a smug, scoffing sound. “Then what was the point?”

“What was the point of your mortal life if you don’t remember it?” Eurydice pressed, her brows furrowing together.

“Glory is supposed to be eternal,” Orpheus remarked casually, not remotely self-aware of how much he was starting to sound like Apollo to Eurydice. “That’s the only reason that anything should last forever.”

“You do realize that by that logic, I shouldn’t be with you right now, and we shouldn’t even try to…rekindle whatever this is.” Eurydice waved between them. “If nothing matters once you stop remembering it, if only your mortal glory matters to you, then it’s pointless for me to move in with you and pretend as though we’re a happily wed couple. I don’t even remember our wedding day.” Eurydice shocked herself with the admission, but a weight was lifted off her chest nonetheless. It didn’t describe the extent to which she felt isolated from Orpheus, but it was a start.

Orpheus looked at Eurydice with a shocked and slightly infuriated look on his face, his lips pressing together in a thin line.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Eurydice.” He leaned forward and tried to kiss Eurydice, but she swerved at the last minute, resulting in Orpheus pressing a bumbling smack to the corner of her mouth. He recovered quickly, puffing out his chest and picking up his pace as they approached Eurydice’s beloved forests.

“You’re part of so many of my accomplishments in Greece,” Orpheus stated warmly, instantaneously reducing Eurydice to one of the many impressive things in his canon. “I could never forget you.”

Eurydice forced a smile, nodding along as if she was pleased by the compliment, although it burned through her chest like she’d eaten something with too much vinegar. Orpheus doted on her—he’d always had—but it was the little comments that betrayed his innermost thoughts—that Eurydice was akin to a possession to him—that always made Eurydice pause and question the relationship. As soon as Orpheus said it, a million little pieces of memories started coming back to her, reminding Eurydice that this was a dance they had done a thousand times.

This is always how he’s made you feel…even when you were infatuated.

Still, there was nothing stopping her from seeing where things went, especially since she perished on their wedding day so soon. If Apollo had cursed Orpheus so, damning her as his bride, then certainly there was no greater punishment for Orpheus. If a god decided that Orpheus’s ultimate suffering was to be without Eurydice…that meant something.

You are going to dig yourself into the dirt, thinking in circles like this. Try to enjoy your time together. Eurydice hyped herself up, forcing herself to get lost in the way that Orpheus smiled towards the setting sun.

They set an easy pace as they entered the forests, Eurydice feeling part of her anxiety ebb away now that she was amongst friends.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember our wedding day.” Eurydice sighed softly, hoping to extend an olive branch to Orpheus. He offered her a small smile in return, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her body closer to his as they walked. Eurydice leaned into the embrace, allowing herself the opportunity to at least feel physically close to Orpheus again.

“Well, it was rather traumatic,” Orpheus joked, cracking an easy smile, “so I don’t blame you. Do you want me to tell you about it?”

“Yes, please do.” Eurydice nodded in agreement. If there was anything that Orpheus was good at, storytelling was up there with his musical abilities, although the two went hand in hand.

“You looked as gorgeous as you always do, which was to be expected, of course.” Orpheus started with a wink in Eurydice’s direction, and a gentle blush appeared on her cheeks, surprising her.

Perhaps there’s still something between us after all. He’s always been charming, that’s not new.

“I had never seen you so concerned with your appearance,” Orpheus pressed, his smile growing. “You were bent out of shape over it. You had at least three different nymphs attempt to do your hair, and you weren’t happy with any of the results.”

The fleeting pleasant feeling that Eurydice had disappeared as she picked through her brain for any memories of the wedding day. That doesn’t sound like me at all…

“I guess a woman’s wedding day is the one day she’s allowed to be that preoccupied with her appearance,” Eurydice acquiesced lamely.

Orpheus looked at the short tunic she was wearing and made a noncommittal sound. “I do hope that you’ll plan on dressing a little bit more appropriately now that I’m here.”

Eurydice stopped walking as they stepped into a small clearing, her humble home appearing through the trees. She turned to Orpheus with a confused expression on her face, the flush in her cheeks now deepening to one of embarrassment.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” Orpheus scoffed, his voice suddenly full of condescension, “you’re dressed like a child, Eurydice. It’s not fitting for either of us, especially considering how many eyes are going to be on us for a while. We’re the hottest thing to happen in the Underworld since… I don’t know. Regardless, it wouldn’t hurt for you to clean up a little.”

Eurydice took a physical step back at the nonchalant attitude Orpheus took when criticizing her appearance. Before she could even respond, he turned and got a look at the small stone home where she’d spent her long, happy years in Asphodel.

“Oh, gods,” Orpheus cringed, “is this trivial shed where you’ve been living? I’ve seen more impressive stables. No matter.” Orpheus waved his hand about as if he was shooing a fly and walked towards her house, Eurydice trailing behind him with a dumbstruck expression on her face. Orpheus walked right inside her front door as if he owned the house, the distaste on his face growing. “Grab what you need, Eurydice, and let’s get out of here. You can move in with me as we discussed. Even if I eventually fell out of Apollo’s favor, having a god’s attention does grant you some privileges in the afterlife.”

Orpheus took another long look around the tiny home, his dissatisfaction apparent. “I’ll wait outside.” He stepped out again without giving Eurydice the opportunity to say anything, and she slumped down into her favorite chair the moment she was alone.

She looked around the tiny space, filled with dried flowers and happy memories, and was stunned that Orpheus’s comments hadn’t even surprised her. A part of her knew the way he spoke to her and disregarded her home should infuriate her, but it didn’t. It bounced off a high wall surrounding her feelings which Eurydice had long forgotten was there.

I guess I was used to him behaving like this, once…