I slipped my hand into his and let him lead me past all the tormented statues of his dead wife. My nerves were stretched thin by the time we reached the hallway, and I was glad when he veered toward another room not far away.
He watched me closely as he opened the door. The room wasn’t much bigger than all the previous rooms I’d seen, but the ceiling was domed with smooth, grey stones far above our heads, making the space feel grander. However, there were no furnishings. Just four walls and some lit torches.
“Will this suit you?” he asked.
“Um, it’s a little empty.”
In an instant, the space filled with rugs and furs and lavishly woven tapestries that showed garden scenes with naked people frolicking. I ignored those and focused on the furnishing. Carved vines crept up the ornate vanity’s legs, matching the design on the well-padded chair. Numerous bottles, golden bangles, and gilded brushes covered the surface of the table, and a ginormous golden disc hung on the wall above it.
And the room wasn’t lit by torches. Little clay lamps that looked a bit like teapots with wicks dangling from the spouts hung around the room, giving everything a soft glow.
A longer lounge waited at the other end of the room along with some cushions on the floor.
But all of that wasn’t nearly as impressive as the bed. Bigger than its predecessors, it took up a good portion of the room’s footprint. Panels of thin fabric hung from its posts, partially shielding the view of soft furs piled on top the mattress.
A tray of various fruits on a low table sat nearby.
“This is very pretty.”
“This pleases you?”
I could hear the doubt in his voice and knew why.
“Yes. It does. I am not Persephone. I’m Ashlyn, and I’ve never seen anything this pretty before.”
He scowled at me. “I tire of your games.”
“If that were true, you would have stopped playing them with her a long time ago.”
The calculating look in his eyes hardened, and something new appeared in the middle of the room a second later. The bronze tub was a replica of the one he’d conjured for me before, filled with steaming water and everything.
“That is tempting,” I said, thinking of my earlier blood bath. However, as much as I would have loved to wash away that memory, I couldn’t forget an equally traumatic one. Last time I’d bathed, Hades had run himself into the wall and then had stolen my dress.
“I think I’ll pass on the bath for now and lie down for a bit, if that’s all right with you.”
I moved to sit on the edge of the bed and felt the intensity of his gaze. I knew I walked a dangerous line until I could prove I wasn’t Persephone. Hades had made his obsession with her very clear. And between what Zotera shared and what he’d said, I knew that Persephone had done some awful things.
What did that say about Hades that he loved someone like that?
I cleared my throat nervously.
“Zotera said that I can summon you by simply saying your name. Is that true?”
“It is.”
“Good. That’s good. Then if I need anything while you’re helping Creon, I can just call your name.”
His eyes flickered with a red glow. “Are you dismissing me?”
A thread of fear tickled along my spine at the menace in his tone, and I fought to keep myself from reacting. There’d been so many times today that I’d forgotten I was dealing with a god rather than a crazy, tormented creature. This wasn’t one of them. Maybe it was because I still had Zotera’s stories filling my head.
“Did you ever hurt Persephone?” I asked him, needing to know how much danger I might be in.
The anger left his expression as he paled.
“Rest well, Goddess,” he said, retreating from the room. “I will not disturb you.”
The door shut with a click. I stared at the wood panel as a sick feeling rose in my gut, and wished I hadn’t asked the questions.
