Still, he hoped for Persephone’s sake they were able to go. He knew she felt isolated in the Underworld, though she had not expressed it aloud. It wasn’t that she did not love their realm or their people, but the Upperworld belonged to her as well. She longed for fresh air and real sun. Though, he had to admit, he was anxious about the event. What if she went into labor while out and about in New Athens?
Then I go into labor, Persephone had said.
He’d had no reply, feeling as though he could not argue with her. The twins were their creation, but she was carrying them, and it was her body. If she wasn’t worried, he wanted to keep it that way.
“I’ll see you both later,” he said with a nod. He took a few steps before teleporting to the Underworld in search of Persephone.
Part of him hoped to find her resting in bed or in the library, maybe even soaking in a warm bath, but he knew that was wishful thinking. She was bundled in a fur-lined cloak, choosing a new tree from the many silver-toned pines in her grove. Several souls had joined her, including Ian and Zofie, who had become the blacksmith’s eager apprentice, and a handful of children. Apollo and Hyacinth were also in attendance, as well as Thanatos, Lexa, and…
“Hecate,” Hades said tightly. Of all Persephone’s enablers, he expected better from the Goddess of Witchcraft, though he was pleased with none of them. “What is this?”
“We needed a new tree for the foyer,” said Persephone. “I thought the children could choose a replacement.”
“And that required your involvement?” he asked.
Persephone’s already rosy cheeks turned a shade darker. “Walking is good for the babies, Hades.”
“And the cold?” he countered.
“Is it still a lover’s quarrel when babies are involved?” Apollo said.
“Are you suggesting couples cannot be lovers once they have children?” Hyacinth asked.
“No?” he replied, sounding very uncertain.
“That is a ridiculous thing to say, Apollo,” said Lexa.
“Well, I don’t know!” he countered.
“This isn’t a quarrel,” Hades snapped.
“Then what is it?” Persephone asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Hades looked at her. “I’m just…concerned.”
Persephone’s gaze softened. “I’m fine, Hades,” she said, hands falling to her round stomach. “We’re all fine.”
Hades took a breath. “Have you chosen your tree?”
Persephone smiled. “The children have marked them with red ribbons.”
“Them? I thought you said one tree.”
“No, I said trees,” Persephone argued.
“You didn’t,” said Apollo.
“What I said doesn’t matter,” Persephone huffed. “The point is, we’re ready to cut them down.”
“You mean with a saw?” Hades asked.
There was a part of him that could not believe she was still insisting on doing all this by hand after the Kallikantzaroi destroyed her work. Christmas was a few days away, and this could all be cleared up with a snap of their fingers.
Fuck me, he thought.
“It’s for the children, Hades,” she said, staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes.
“I can’t imagine the children care whether you cut the trees down with a saw or magic,” said Hades. “Hell, they probably prefer magic.”
