I stand to follow him, only to find the door opening and Minox gliding through. “My Lord,” he says, a hint of surprise in his voice. “You have returned.”
“I have,” I agree with a sense of humor. “All is well in the realms.”
“Is it?” he questions with slight shock in his tone and folds his hands in front of him. This is one of his oldest habits. “You seem…pleased, my Lord.”
“My queen will be here six months out of every twelve,” I tell him in a falsely contented tone. I desire all twelve months. I will have time to come to terms with it, however. I will have eternity to spend with my queen, even if I have to be patient. The realms will believe we are on a united front in this decision. They must not know my displeasure. My pain is for me to hold alone. “She will spend the other six months with her mother so that no one needs to fight over her. The realms will be returned to balance.”
“They’re much improved already, my Lord.”
“To what cause?”
“A spell cast down.” Minox’s eyes brighten. “A spell from our queen. One to sustain us and heal what needed to be healed. Her whispers were heard by many who prayed for peace. Her magic crossed all the realms.”
“The news makes me miss her greatly,” I start and then correct myself. Perhaps Minox will be the only soul who has knowledge of my longing for her. “It pleases me also.”
Minox hesitates. His lips part but he doesn’t speak, withdrawing whatever thought he had.
“What is it, Minox?”
“Are you truly content with her decision?” he questions. “I suppose my fear is wondering whether or not her decision will last or whether you will make an alternative judgment?”
A beat passes and I know one truth. I would never fail my queen. Never. She needs this from me and the torturing I feel now will make my love for her stronger.
“She is my queen,” I tell Minox, looking straight into his eyes. “I will give her everything she desires and more. This judgment will last, Minox. I swear it.”
Persephone
I spend the remaining weeks on Olympus with my mother. The mortals will now know true seasons and prepare for life as they should so they may have abundance in all ways. It is a balance that it is new for us all. But a beautiful balance indeed. In the fall there is slow death followed by a brutal winter. In the spring, life returns and then flourishes.
The season seems to stretch. The green spring is slow to turn to summer, but once it does, the summer days linger. Sunrise comes early, and the days are long and hot. Many evenings, when I scry with Hades, I do so in the light of the sunset, not needing a fire at all.
I crave him every minute. Every hour. Every day. I desire to lie in bed with him and feel his lips against mine. Even more, I want to fall into pleasure with him. I am lonely for it, and so is he.
When he looks at me through the mirror, it is with longing in his gaze. He leans his hand on the frame and touches the glass, and I can tell he would give anything to cup my face.
I place my fingers to the mirror, too. I would give anything to twine our fingers together. Even to feel his warmth through the glass.
But I cannot, so I become very good at imagining it is there.
The days are long with much work to distract me, so many have heard whispers of my name and the prayers are constant. But the nights, when I lay awake in my bed, are consumed with my thoughts of Hades and my need for him. I am at peace with my judgment, and still I long for him.
So I have been waiting for six long months when my last night on Olympus arrives, and I wake to my last day on Olympus. When the sun sets and the moon rises, I will go back to the Underworld, accompanied by Hecate, the keeper of the keys, and there I will spend six cycles of the moon with Hades.
I wake knowing that it is time. The summer is coming to an end, and the auburn colors of the leaves warn the mortals to prepare for change. The people may miss the long days, but they will welcome the longer nights and the chance to spend their evenings gathered close to the fire and go to bed early.
Six moon cycles, I think as I sit at my breakfast, eating a piece of bread with honey. There will be bread and honey in the Underworld, but it will not be the same.
Nothing will be exactly the same. That is part of the joy of going to the Underworld, and also part of the sorrow. I will miss things on Olympus. I will think of them with fondness.
But I will have my king.
“My queen,” Beatrice whispers, coming through the door of my rooms. I greet her with a solemn nod. Our time to part is nearly here.
There is very little to pack. I will take a few items with me, but the gowns I wear in the Underworld will be there waiting for me. I will carry only a few keepsakes with me.
My throat tightens as I place a carved crystal of a rose my mother gifted me the day after I made my judgment. It’s made of garnet and the color reminds me of the pomegranate seeds, yet the flower reminds me of my mother’s love. I put it out of my mind. Beatrice and I will walk in the garden and have tea. We will talk about magic and practice together. Then she will go, and I will have my evening meal with my mother. The sun has been setting earlier recently, so I know it is almost time to begin the next series of moon cycles. Tonight, the crescent before the new moon will rise sooner than it has in past cycles, and then…
Then I will go.
