Up on Mount Ida, two goddesses were fighting. "You said you weren't going to make them suffer!" Psyche said.

     Aphrodite frowned. "Have I not kept that promise?"

    Psyche scowled. "I should've made you swear on the River Styx! Look at them. The youths are pining away for each other."

     Aphrodite's eyes flashed. "They're in love."

     "And they don't even know it!" Psyche burst out. "They don't even realize what is causing them such pain."

    Her mother-in-law saw the sadness in Psyche's eyes and gave her a hug. "Perhaps you are right," she said. "Perhaps I need to open their eyes a little more."

***
     In the week since the sheep shearing, Hades' words had proved true. Two men asked for Hazel's hand. One was a a former soldier named Michael who Hades quickly rejected; there was a hard, dangerous look in his eyes that made him unattractive as a prospective husband. Then, there was a nearby farmer named Trip who promised a decent dowry; Hades said he would think on it because he was sure he could do better for his worthy daughter.

Hazel told Frank as much. The news made his heart ache, but it was worse to see how sad Hazel looked whenever she talked of her wedding. They might as well have been discussing her funeral.

"Let's enjoy the beautiful weather today," Frank suggested. "Summer will be over soon."

Hazel nodded. Harvest time was one of the busiest times of years, but the winter was the most laid back. Usually, she looked forward to spending time inside, drawing and listening to stories beside a warm fire, but this year she felt differently. Winter would mean she'd have less time to spend with Frank and the thought made her heart feel as frozen as an icicle.

The two of them led their flocks to a nice pasture and sat down in the shade of a pine tree. The ground underneath was springy from the cushioning of pine needles and its aromatic scent filled their noses. They talked of nothing of consequence, but each word felt special coming out of the other's lips.

At one point, they caught each other's gaze. Frank has been in the middle of talking about archery, but he stopped as Hazel's luminous, golden eyes met his warm brown ones. Hazel noticed a softness in his eyes. Frank was a tall man with broad-shoulders and the build of an ox, but his face was round and his expression gentle.

Frank noticed the same softness in her eyes. They looked like pools of melting gold instead coins flashing in the bright summer light. They both blushed and the color only enhanced what each found attractive in the other. Slowly and shyly, they tilted towards each other as if pulled by some invisible force.

Their faces met each other. It was instinctive — their first real kiss — and entirely unplanned. It was soft and sweet like blossoming flowers in early spring. Hazel felt a rush of dizzying happiness rush over her, while Frank felt like he was a sparrow flying overhead.

     The kiss ended as it had begun: gently and tentatively. "Hazel, I — I'm sorry if you didn't—"

    Frank broke off and looked at his lap. Hazel kissed him on the cheek again and his face heated up. "No, I — I liked it."

   She spoke in a soft, breathless voice. Both of them felt nervous and exhilarated simultaneously. They heard the soft, sweet notes of a panpipes and both looked up to see a man waving at them. He had curly brown hair and gangly legs despite the fact he was in his thirties.

Hazel stood up, her face covered in pink like the rosy fingers of Eos. "Grover, how are you faring?"

His smile was genial. "I am well. I see that you two have spent more time together recently."

Frank blushed. "We're just looking after the goats and sheep."

"It's more than that," Grover said, sitting down so he faced them both. "I know the affliction that you to are suffering from."

Frank's eyes widened. "You do?"

Grover nodded sagely. "The burning fervor, the longing, the loss of appetite, the way your mind drifts to one person in particular . . . You two are in love."

Hazel frowned. "Love?"

"Yes, love," Grover said.

Frank frowned. "But I've loved people before, but never . . ."

"Eros is different than other kinds of love," Grover said. "He and his laughter-loving mother preside over romantic love. This is what you are feeling."

"Is there — is there any cure for it?" Hazel asked.

"The only cure for romantic love is to spend time with your beloved," Grover said. "I was once a young shepherd like you when I fell in love with Juniper. I wooed her with songs from my panpipes and gifts of fruits until she opened her heart. I was lucky enough to see her and we still live as man and wife."

Frank's brow furrowed. "So there is no cure for love? It is eternal?"

"Not always," Grover said.

"So we just have to bear it out?" Hazel asked.

Grover shook his head. "There are things you can do to ease your symptoms. Spending time with each other helps, as do kisses and embraces. The touch of affection and laying together naked — why those are the true ways to respond to love."

Hazel stares at him blankly. Could he be right? Yes, their kiss had felt good, but was it something they should repeat? "Do these things really help?" Hazel asked.

Grover noticed the plaintiveness in her voice and he gave her a sympathetic smile. "Now love can be cruel, but with time it will soften and pain will give way to pleasantness."

Frank sighed. "I hope you are right."

Grover stood up. "I wish you well, young goatherd and shepherdess. May Eros and Aphrodite bless your match."

He left and the two confused youths were left together. "Can it really be true?" Frank asked. "Can a kiss help ease this pain?"

"There is only one way to tell," Hazel answered.

They leaned in for another kiss.