She found her parents waiting for her at the table. Her father lounged almost as comfortably as he ever had. Her mother looked drawn.
There was a silence between them that Andromeda intended to resolve.
‘You know I will marry him?’ Her eyes were bright with the challenge. There had still been no word from Phineus, even now his niece was free.
‘Yes, my dear,’ said her father. ‘It appeared that way when you allowed him to grab you in front of all our subjects.’
‘He’d just saved my life,’ she remarked. ‘So I thought it best to confirm to everyone that he is the kind of man I would like as my husband, rather than an absent coward.’ There was a pause. ‘An old, absent coward.’ Her mother flinched, but did not speak. ‘He is the son of Zeus,’ Andromeda continued. ‘This is a match you should both approve.’
Her father nodded. ‘I can hardly refuse him,’ he said. ‘After he appeared so impressively and saved you when I could not.’ There was a tremor in his voice and Andromeda wondered why. It was a little late, as far as she was concerned, to be wishing he had done more to save her now. He had done nothing when it mattered. Perseus had done everything.
‘He will ask you for permission to marry me tonight,’ she said. ‘I am certain.’
‘I’m not sure he asks for permission,’ said her father. ‘But perhaps he will, since he is a guest in my house.’
‘I don’t know why you don’t like him. He saved my life when no one else would, or could. He didn’t fear a monster, he didn’t fear Poseidon, and he didn’t care what those vile priests said. I would have thought you’d be happy for me to marry such a man.’
‘I would be,’ said her father. Andromeda waited, in case there was more. But her father simply ladled out more wine.
‘You don’t seem very happy,’ she said. She took her place on the next couch, leaving plenty of room in case Perseus wasn’t sure where to sit when he arrived.
‘If you are happy, we are happy,’ said Cepheus. ‘I cannot pretend I’m anything other than deeply ashamed of my brother’s continuing absence, and his cowardice. Although I do find his age more forgivable than you do.’
‘I see,’ Andromeda said.
‘Your mother and I chose a husband for you because we believed he would be good for you. His behaviour has made it clear that he would not. I would like to be able to choose you a new husband myself, rather than have one swoop in from the skies who we don’t know and who you don’t know either. But we have discussed the matter and both of us feel that we cannot stand in his way if he wishes to marry you: we barely survived the wrath of Poseidon. We cannot incur the anger of Zeus the Almighty.’
Andromeda looked at her mother, who stared into her cup, tilting it gently so the wine flowed around it.
‘And what about what I want?’ asked Andromeda. ‘You behave as though I have no say in the matter at all.’
Her father smiled. ‘No,’ he said. ‘But you had made up your mind the moment he appeared, I believe, so we didn’t worry about that when we discussed it.’
‘I don’t think that you are pleased with this marriage, whatever you say,’ she replied. ‘You sit here in silence as though we were preparing for a funeral. Which you very nearly were, although I would have been conspicuously missing.’
‘No.’ Her mother’s voice was creaky from lack of use. ‘We are grateful to him for saving you from my folly. He is a child of the gods and well-favoured by them. I have only one reason to be unhappy today, and I hope it will fade with time.’
‘What is that?’ asked Andromeda.
‘He enjoyed killing the priests so much,’ her mother replied.
‘Why shouldn’t he have killed them?’ Andromeda said. ‘They wanted me dead. You can find new priests easily enough.’
‘I don’t disagree with you, my dear,’ said Cepheus. This was what he invariably said when he did disagree with someone. ‘We wanted to placate the gods and we thought we had to do as they demanded. But your young man comes with a higher authority, from Zeus himself, if he is to be believed.’
‘Why shouldn’t he be believed?’ Andromeda was beginning to wonder if her parents would rather she’d been eaten alive. ‘Why would you question his parentage like this?’
‘I’m not questioning it,’ Cepheus replied quickly. He didn’t want to blaspheme against another god. ‘I am just not accustomed to meeting sons of Zeus, I suppose.’
‘It’s been quite an eventful time for everyone,’ Andromeda said. ‘I don’t see how the father of my future husband is more surprising to you than a wandering ocean, or a sea monster. And what did you mean when you said he enjoyed killing them? He was saving my life. I don’t imagine enjoyment came into it. There was hardly any point in killing the creature that had been sent to eat me if he was just going to stand back and let the priests issue orders for some other god-demanded death. At least he stood up for me.’
There was a long silence.
‘He is not king of all the Ethiopians, my dear,’ her father said. ‘I was their king before I was your father.’
‘Well, now I have the chance to marry a man who thinks of my needs before those of his people,’ she replied. ‘Which is more than could be said of the man you wanted me to marry.’
‘He relished the killing,’ said her mother. ‘You didn’t see it but we did. His eyes were full of excitement when he swung his sword into the old priest’s throat. He was happy. I’m sure you’re right that he would never put other people’s needs before yours. But he will never put anyone’s before his own.’
‘That’s not true,’ Andromeda said. ‘How can you say that, when you have barely met him?’
‘You’re agreeing to marry him and you’ve barely met him,’ her mother retorted.
‘He’s on a quest to save his mother from being forced to marry a man she doesn’t like,’ Andromeda replied. She and Perseus had discussed everything important on the walk back to the palace. The things she didn’t already know about him she was sure she would love as much as everything she did know. How could she resist someone who was trying to save his mother from the very fate she herself had faced?
‘So he explained,’ said Cepheus. ‘He said it’s very urgent. A most perilous quest.’
‘Which the gods have assisted him with, because he is the son of Zeus and enjoys their favour,’ said Andromeda. ‘Which will make a nice change for me. Enjoying divine favour.’
‘And yet,’ said her mother, ‘he delayed his journey home so he could save you.’
‘Yes!’ cried Andromeda. ‘I don’t know how you can think that reflects poorly on him. I can only assume it’s because it reflects so badly on both of you.’
‘You said he wouldn’t put anyone else’s needs before yours,’ her mother replied. ‘But he chose to put the needs of a stranger – you – before the interests of his mother, to whom he is so devoted. Why was he not hurrying to save her? Why was he diverted from his journey home?’