Psyche tried hard not to let Aphrodite hear her crying, but she probably heard anyway. Fingers shaking, she picked up a handful of seeds and half-heartedly picked them apart. Her eyes welling with tears, she seemed to see a black cloud crawl across the floor. Psyche scrubbed her eyes. Could it be…ants? The ebony-dark formation swarmed around the mammoth pile of seeds, temporarily cloaking it, and then dispersed. Psyche stared, amazed, as they scrambled back under the floorboards.

The door slammed open. “What’s all the commotion?” Aphrodite asked in a sickly sweet voice. Psyche watched as her lovely face twisted with a scowl. “This didn’t seem to propose a challenge,” she snarled. Throwing a crust of bread at Psyche’s feet, she growled under her breath, “Sleep well, Princess. Tomorrow will come another task.”