Aurora jerked in surprise, part way through scrubbing the kitchen floor. She could hear Epimetheus crying her name, his tone of panic making her heart clatter. Uncertain what to do, she froze, scrubbing brush held aloft, dropping soapy suds onto her knees. Then fate took her by the hand and pulled her into the courtyard to meet him.
“Gather your belongings,” Epimetheus urged. “And meet me back here at once.”
“What? Why? Whatever do you mean, Epimetheus?”
“You must leave here at once, Aurora,” he said, gripping her small, workworn hands in his own. “Your life is in danger.”
She stared up at him, and then followed his gaze up to Pandora’s window. Aurora shivered, her heart acknowledging what her mind struggled to believe.
“Have I displeased the Queen in some way?” she asked.
Epimetheus glanced back at her, and laughed, his voice harsh and desperate.
“You have indeed displeased her, my sweet girl. As have I.”
“How?” Aurora demanded, shock making her brave enough to question him. “I have always sought to serve her Majesty well. What have I done wrong?”
Epimetheus shook his head, reluctantly averting his gaze from those plump and beautiful lips, offering temptation beyond measure. She looked like a startled deer. “Do you really not know?” he murmured. “Only look in a mirror, and you will find the truth starring back at you.”
Aurora blushed, yet stood taller for a moment, feeling the glimmer of a new power. “Must I really go?” she asked.
“You must,” Epimetheus replied. “But never fear, I will take you somewhere safe. If only I knew of a place for you to hide.” He ran a hand over his hair, as if to soothe his own fear.
“My mother lives deep in the woods – her hut would be safe enough for me to hide in,” Aurora said. “Though it is far away, at least two days’ journey away, to the East.”
“Two days,” Epimetheus said, smiling. “Would you entrust yourself to my care for a whole two days and nights, Aurora?” Something of the old swagger made his tone more suggestive and teasing than he intended, yet Aurora appeared unaware of his hidden meaning.
“I would trust you to the ends of the Earth and back,” she said, solemnly. “I know you would never do me any harm.”
Epimetheus stifled a groan of shame as he recalled Pandora’s bitter command. He might well take two days to dillydally with this innocent girl, yet the bitter task remained vividly before him. By the time those two days were over, he would need to tear out Aurora’s heart and offer it to Pandora for her inspection, on pain of his own death.
He felt for the dagger, tucked safely within it’s sheath, hanging on his belt under his cloak. It was newly sharpened and ready for action, quite sharp enough to skin a rabbit, gut a fish or end an innocent young woman’s life.
“Go,” he growled. “Gather your belongings.”
Aurora ran inside and climbed the stairs, pausing at the top. She crept past Pandora’s door, entering the antechamber by another door to avoid the queen’s certain ire. She could hear Pandora’s voice whispering and pleading; a desperate intensity filling the air.
“She must die. The girl must die. The mirror will speak my name. It will not lie. I am the most beautiful of them all. Oh open, why won’t you open? I am the queen. You must obey me. All must obey me!”
Aurora shuddered and ran from the room, not bothering to gather her very few belongings. She’s mad, she thought fearfully, truly mad.
“Epimetheus!” she cried, lifting her long skirt and apron as she ran on bare feet to join him by the stable door.
Epimetheus lifted her, as if she barely weighed more than a bird, flinging her up onto the black stallion’s back. He climbed up confidently in front of her, holding the reins tightly as the horse danced and neighed angrily.
“Steady, boy!” Epimetheus ordered. “You’ve precious cargo to carry now.”
The horse responded by rearing his head and exploding into action. As Epimetheus cantered out of the palace grounds on his stallion, Aurora clung tight to his cloak, struggling to remain seated.
“Put your arms around me, and hold on tight!” Epimetheus shouted.
Blushing, Aurora wrapped her arms around his torso, laying one cheek against his back. The thunder of the horse’s hooves settled into a rhythmic sway, soothing Aurora’s initial panic. As the palace gates retreated into the distance, she exhaled slowly, sudden tears running down her cheeks as tension flowed away. I’m safe with him, she thought. Safe at last.
7/31/2026
You continue to keep me tied to the page every time a new chapter pops up, Rachel. As the story progresses, I'm finding myself seeing echoes of other myths and fairy tales alongside the Pandora legend. In particular, Pandora's obsession with beauty, the mirror, the command to bring back Aurora's heart, and the flight into the woods all gave me strong Snow White vibes. That's not a criticism—retellings often borrow from multiple traditions—but it did make me wonder whether the story is becoming a broader tapestry of myth and folklore rather than remaining rooted solely in the legend of Pandora. Whichever is the case, I remain heavily invested.