Author’s Note: This narrative serves as a reimagined beginning of the mythological tale of Perseus and Andromeda, told from Andromeda’s perspective, intricately woven into the historical tapestry of Ancient Ethiopia—the original backdrop for this profound legend. This piece is a tribute to Andromeda’s fragmented monologue in Euripides’ play, emphasizing those lost sentiments. For those seeking a broader understanding of the myth, I suggest exploring Tufts University’s translation of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, focusing on the segment detailing Perseus and Andromeda.
My Journey as Andromeda
I am Andromeda. My name has been whispered among the stars, interwoven into the fabric of time and myth, immortalized in the works of the ancients, including poets like Euripides and Ovid, as well as painters such as Rubens and Titian. You may recognize me as the woman bound to the jagged cliffs, battered by relentless waves; a fate laid upon me by my mother’s boastful arrogance.
Yet, you do not know my tale.
I am the sole offspring of King Cepheus of Aethiopia and Queen Cassiopeia of Joppa. I once tread the earth as a mortal, where my name signified “ruler of men,” meant to represent far more than just a beautiful visage.
Ἀνδρομέδα: A name spoken with reverence and foreboding—a prophecy of the fate I was destined to confront.
The dry season had cast its relentless heat over the land, parching the earth and making it yearning for the gentle kiss of rain. The wind carried whispers of an approaching storm.
In the covered chariot, the soft breaths of my sleeping mother filled the air. Her scrolls lay forgotten, nestled on her lap amongst the intricately embroidered linen of her gown. I gently pried the delicate scrolls away, wishing to save them from the dirt-laden floor of our chariot during our journey to the summer palace.
Among the parchment, I caught sight of the title at the top in her elegant script: Betrothal.
The notion had first slipped through the cracks of hushed conversations behind closed doors, causing a stir in my stomach at the sight of it—my life, illustrated in ink, now tied to a political maneuver orchestrated by my mother.
The wheels of the chariot rumbled below us, synchronizing with my trepidation. Each turn drew me closer to a predestined life, marked not by choice but by royal decree.
Phineus, my father’s younger adopted brother, lingered as a leech, eyeing the throne and plotting through beguilements with the council. His escapades with countless women were mere discarded remnants of his ambition. Did he even see me beneath that ambition?
I squirmed in my seat, restless and desperate to escape the confines of my fate, feeling as though sand had become trapped within me, weighty and oppressive. No longer would I be just a pawn—I felt within me the heartbeat of a Queen.
Suddenly, the chariot jolted to a stop, waking Mama, who grasped my hand in surprise.
“We can’t be there already?” she questioned, disoriented, still shrouded in the remnants of sleep.
“It’s been hours, Mama,” I replied with a smile, as she kissed my hand before gazing into my eyes—the reflection of her own. Those deep brown irises bore the light of the sun, and yet, they met a different horizon, astray in their paths.
“I know you didn’t rest.” Her wise eyebrows lifted.
Summer days were once moments I cherished, eagerly awaiting our annual trip. Yet today, they were tainted with the bitterness of impending responsibilities that consumed my thoughts.
As we arrived, the palace’s shimmering towers and banners fluttered, signaling my father’s presence.
“Andromeda, pull away from there,” my mother urged, guiding my shoulder down as she returned to the scrolls. “You are no longer a child; act like the Princess you are.”
Her scornful words stung, her moods ever-changing like the tides. The pressure of her crown appeared a heavy burden.
Reluctantly obeying, I slumped in my seat, unable to counter her authority. My fingers danced around my cuticles—a habit resistant to my will.
“And for the gods’ sake, sit up straight,” Mama intoned as we prepared to enter.
Ignoring her protestations, I flew out of the chariot, eager to reach my father, abandoning the rules just for today.
Her words fluttered away, lost to the winds. Faint clouds loomed on the horizon.
This summer palace, built as a stronghold against invaders, was a sanctuary from the chaos of court life—a place I once relished, now felt overshadowed by the burden of expectation, where moments of joy were shadowed by foreboding.
Gazing into the copper mirror, I barely recognized my reflection. Adorned with jewels that sparkled against my skin, I longed for familiarity.
The distant roar of the ocean drifted through the cracked window, breaking the silence as my mother entered, followed by attendants.
“Mama,” I turned, desperation lacing my words.
“Listen, I cannot endure this. I refuse to wed Phineus. You do not understand his character,” I declared, steeling myself against potential upset.
“There’s nothing to fear. He will treat you with respect. You have a duty to fulfill,” she replied, her voice taut with impatience.
Each unacknowledged plea weighed heavily within me. Defiance agitated her, I could see. It would disrupt the fragile balance of our family’s political standing.
As she flung the window wide, letting the breeze fill the chamber, I leaned into her words, feeling soured by her choices.
“No, Mother. Marrying a stranger is not an option for me. I have my own dreams, my own life! I can serve Aethiopia without a husband!” My voice trembled, infused with passion.
Dark clouds began to loom, mirroring the storm brewing inside me. My mother’s brow furrowed in concern.
“You are the Crown Princess. You were born for this duty. I don’t know how often I must remind you. You will marry Phineus, who has no intention of usurping the throne. End this foolishness,” she commanded.
Though I longed to flee, I remained with my head bowed in defeat. I could sense the gaze of servants behind me, and an apology slipped out.
“Forgive me, Mother. My words were reckless.”
Mama’s sigh held weight, a determined acceptance. She gestured for my attendants to approach.
One young woman stepped forward, her appearance demure as she handled my betrothal necklace with utmost care.
“Don’t fret, Your Highness. The court will rejoice in this union,” she said shyly.
This necklace was Phineus’s gift from Joppa, my mother’s homeland. The weight of tradition bore down on my shoulders as she clasped it around my neck, the delicate gold glimmering against my skin—the click of the clasp heralding my looming fate.
“There,” the handmaiden sighed, proud of her craftsmanship. “You will be a radiant bride.”
“Indeed,” my mother added, her satisfaction resounding. “Andromeda could rival even the most beautiful nereids.”
But did she understand the implications of her praise? The forces now coiling around me, how the seas churned in fury—my plight became tempestuous.
Poseidon, Master of the Seas, why must I suffer for my mother’s words? I was but a pawn in this game—a voice swallowed by waves of expectation.
And as destiny unfolded, I never sought to be merely a bride; I aspired to reign as a Queen. Cetus, the monster unleashed, devastated my kingdom and me until hope descended from the heavens in the form of a young man embracing his dual existence.
Let us look to the heavens, dear reader. My story is inscribed amongst the stars.
