Vengeance of the secret mistress
A great party in Corinth! All the people were celebrating, and Jason could not have been happier. He was about to marry Glauce, the king’s daughter, he was about to give his children a place in a prosperous and happy kingdom, ten years after that fateful day maybe things were about to change.
There was only one thought that kept teasing the back of his mind … A name, actually: Medea, his ex.
He had been a fool at the time, but Medea was beautiful and he loved her, as he loved the fierce look in those periwinkle eyes. She had sacrificed everything for him: a brother, the relationship with a father who rightly considered her a fratricide, but above all her morality, her innocence; he had thrown her into an abyss of violence from which he feared seeing her rise again.
However, it seemed that his concerns were unfounded: next to him there was a young woman with a wonderful flammeus of the colours of the sunset that covered her face and her blond, wheat-coloured hair; close to him were his two small children, safe and sound, ready to be princes.
Yet he felt restless. He felt his sentiment deepen as he saw Medea herself, a splendid and haughty woman, approaching the bride with a big smile on her lips and a package in her hands, apparently full of precious fabrics and jewels. After all the despair he had caused her by abandoning her, why was she here, and why with that smile?
<Medea> he addressed her, vaguely frightened. <Why are you here?>
<But to give the bride a gift, it seems obvious to me! A wish for a happy marriage that burns with the flames of passion> her voice was unusually high, but persuasive as the sweetest of honeys. The precious package fell into the hands of a Glauce perplexed by the benevolent presence of this mysterious stranger. Jason smiled at her, encouraging; maybe his was just a feeling, maybe he had to have faith.
Glauce draped the new clothes on herself, wanting to try them on immediately, and put on the jewels … and when the last necklace began to shine around her neck, the sparkle turned into a flame, and then into a column of flames. The bride’s screams were of pure horror as her draperies turned into the curves of flames that enveloped her. He saw her flesh turn to charcoal, her body turn into a torch, stretched strenuously towards the sky. Creon, her father, ran to her rescue trying to extinguish her, but the flames enveloped him too amidst the shocked cries of the people, while Jason tried in vain to keep his children away from that obscene spectacle. <What did you do?> He murmured, but Medea was already gone.