I take one more breath.
“The power inside of me craves the light,” I say, and Beatrice says it along with me, each word matching mine. Our voices just above a whisper. “Bring me the warmth of fire and take from the powers to my right.”
The heat warms my palm. It is the heat of my powers and my blessings and the heat of all the powers swirling around us. Olympus is a place of great power, and there is much of it here, concentrated near my altar, where I have spent so long praying and trying to sustain my powers. It is still here. I am still here, and I will be back.
Because that is the way of balance.
That is the way of the realms.
That is the way of my king and of my mother.
That is my way. A way of balance. Of life and of the Underworld. Of love and passion.
“The power inside of me craves the light,” I say again, Beatrice with me. “Bring me the warmth of fire and take from the powers to my right.”
“The power inside of me craves the light.” We speak with one voice, casting together. This will not be the only time we do magic. This will not be the only time we use our powers for the good of the realms. We will return to this place, again and again. It is only the beginning. “Bring me the warmth of fire and take from the powers to my right.”
The casting of the spell takes my breath away. My powers feel like water, rushing through me and out to every realm.
It will burn bright until I return.
Hades
One kiss.
It is not enough and yet, I allow it to linger because it must be.
Eventually, I get to my feet and wander farther into my bedchambers. They’re as empty as they were before Hecate granted me passage to Olympus.
My fingers slip against the ancient wood, and the memories of Persephone’s time here are drawn to me. The images offer me a sense of peace I desperately need. I take the seat Persephone prefers, looking out the windows over my realms. Nothing tempts me in her absence. I don’t feel like eating. I don’t feel like drinking wine.
Cerberus circles the room, then comes to lay his heads on my leg. I stroke one head absently, wishing my heart would stop aching for Persephone. She’ll return.
I will choose.
She looked at me when she made her wishes clear. The pride and acceptance of her judgment was nearly as consuming as my love for her.
In those minutes, it was as if there was no one else in that hall. We could have been in bed, Persephone leaning over me to kiss my cheek. Her words felt like they were mine and mine alone.
Half of them are. I let out a frustrated sigh, and Cerberus lifts his head, reminding me that he’s here.
“I could not forget you,” I tell him. “I would have liked to have you with me on Olympus.”
Six months of this out of the year. Of every year. Half of all of my life I will be apart from her. I swallow thickly, understanding her decision and her duties apart from ruling by my side. The pain of her absence does not relent though.
What will I do?
I attempt to remember the days before I had her with me, and it’s nearly impossible. The memories themselves aren’t very clear. Did I just exist from day to day, doing the things I needed to do, with only the balance of the realm to distract me?
That must have been how I lived.
She won’t find that acceptable.
My queen will never want to hear that I have spent six months worrying about her and isolating myself.
“What does she think I’ll do, hmm?” I ask Cerberus. “Go on days-long walks with you?”
He hears walk and runs toward the door.
