“I—” I clear my throat again. I need Persephone to return to me. I need this torture to be over. “I don’t think it is wise to linger too long, when scrying. No one else should see you like this.”
She nods although the look in her eyes doesn't change. “Are you?—”
“I am fine,” I answer. “I will be better when you return. I will have my pleasure then.”
Persephone quickly turns her head. Has she heard some sound? A warning that someone is coming.
“Do not drink from what your father offers,” I say, and Persephone looks back at me.
“You have said that about the wine, and I have listened. But why?”
“I cannot speak of what I know. Not here. Do as I wish, my queen.”
“I will,” Persephone promises, and then the mirror goes dark again.
Persephone
With bated breath I watch the door as the black glass stares back at me. The footsteps I heard in the hall grow fainter. It’s not someone coming to speak to me, then.
I stand on shaky legs and sink into the chair, a cream woven blanket tight around me. The fire blazes hot. I’m faintly covered in a fine sheen of sweat, but it’s more from my orgasm than the heat of the fire. It’s more from seeing Hades than any fire.
I close my eyes for a few moments, thinking of him. The relief of seeing him and even pleasing him in that way is immense.
I drank in the sight of his face.
The difference in how I felt about the god prior to being with him and now is like night and day. He didn’t look as he did when I met him in the Underworld. He’d seemed cold, then. Cold and powerful and almost unfeeling. It’s apparent Hades tried not to show his feelings as we were scrying, but I saw them on his face. The smallest muscles betrayed that he’s unhappy about this arrangement. His desire for me is evident. And I love it.
He misses me. I miss him as well.
My heart beat faster as I touched myself. The act felt illicit, like I wasn’t supposed to enjoy my own body, and certainly not in front of the king of the Underworld during the act of scrying. It was sexy and passionate. Forbidden and heated. My heart sped up from the sensation, and of course from thinking about the way he touched me when we were in bed. I needed every second of that moment with him. I need it again as soon as it can be granted.
Now that I have had a few moments to collect myself, I know that my heart is not only racing from the pleasure. It is racing because…I’m concerned about Hades. As the high calms and my breathing levels, I know that to be fact.
There’s something in his expression that spoke of pain. His dark gaze and low tone give him away. As if it’s hurt him deeply to be apart from me. As if it’s not a separation he can bear for very long. We are gods. We are king and queen. Surely, we will sustain and continue to rule. My choice was made for the greater good. War is not something I wish to come.
So much death. The gods have caused an imbalance.
He’s already told me what it would look like if my mother doesn’t stop, but now I fear that it may be closer to hand than anyone realizes.
Quickly, I rise from the chair, gather my gown, and take it into the changing room to prepare for the evening and prepare myself to face whatever may come when the sun rises.
What comes is a summons from my father.
He’s not come to my rooms to speak with me, and that does not surprise me. With the thrashing of lightning and the darkness that hasn’t let up, my mother has not relented. Without justice, she continues to rage. Zeus has unequaled power on Olympus. If he wishes to speak with another god or goddess, they come to meet with him. Only when he chooses.
Beatrice is the one who relays his invitation. We are to dine together in one of his audience rooms this evening. Nerves rack through me. He is the king of the gods, and he has not made it right with my mother. But what justice can be brought? What reason can she see? She is blinded by the betrayal and kidnapping of her daughter and although I am well, I have empathy for her. My thoughts haven’t settled and the anxiousness of what might be asked of me is overwhelming. Combined with Hades’s warning.
I spend the day with my mother, who has much to say about the plants in the garden. My thoughts choke me. Balling up into a cowardice at the back of my throat. She hasn’t brought harvest still. But perhaps the more time she spends with me, the more she will heal. After we have tea and fruit for breakfast, she suggests we go out to her garden beds.
There are hours to go until dinner, so I accompany her to the gardens.
The beds are newly turned over, dark soil warming in the sun. Various pots are arranged on the edge of the bed.
Olympus is empty. Ever since the scry, there is nothing here that holds my attention. All the white walls are a constant reminder that there is a great distance between us, and one that Hades cannot cross.
Realizing my thoughts, it feels as if I’ve betrayed her myself. My stomach sinks. I should not want the god who stole me. I should side with my mother for how fate has brought me my lover. Worst of all, I haven’t the words to confess to Demeter, my mother and savior in so many ways, that I love him and I wish her to stop. I wish for her to accept that there is no justice to give her.
“Ah!” My mother says, a simper on her lips although her eyes are still clouded with pain. “Everything is prepared for planting. Would you like to join me?”
