“The seeds?” That made little sense.
“The seeds were symbolic, Your Grace,” Linus answered, a chuckle in the back of his words.
“Symbolic of what?”
Linus smiled at him, popped his tricorn on his head once more, and made his way back into the ballroom. Adam felt absolutely certain that he had just been bested philosophically by a thirteen-year-old. That, he supposed, was what he deserved for marrying into a family of scholars.
Harry joined Adam only moments after Linus disappeared inside. He could not seem to find a moment’s peace at his own home. This was the very reason he avoided hosting social events.
Harry slapped him on the back in an overly familiar gesture Adam had come to expect from the man who had never been one for keeping an emotional distance. “I know disappearing at balls is one of your particular talents, but it does not reflect well on your wife. You really ought to go sit beside her.”
Harry had a point, but Adam didn’t appreciate having his social shortcomings pointed out to him. “What I really ought to do is hang you out your bedchamber windows by a bedsheet tied around your ankles until you agree to take yourself off permanently.”
“Welcome back, old friend.” Harry laughed. “You’ve gone soft lately.”
“Shut up, Harry.” Adam walked away from him toward the doors that led to the people and noise he disliked so much.
The fact that Persephone’s face lit up when he arrived at her side proved something of a comfort. A simpering pup of a gentleman occupied the seat next to her, a situation resolved by a single look from Adam.
“Taking a breath of fresh air?” she asked with a smile as he sat in the quickly vacated seat.
“Several breaths, in fact.” Adam attempted to make himself comfortable in the most uncomfortable of situations: a place of scrutiny in a crowded ballroom.
“You haven’t been too miserable, have you?” Persephone looked rather closely at him.
Adam averted his eyes, her scrutiny making him uncomfortable. Did she see Hades when she looked at him? “The evening has gone well, I think,” he said, hoping to divert her attention.
“It has.” A smile of satisfaction crept across her face. Why did she never look like that when just the two of them were together?
A country dance began, and every couple within shouting distance of them, it seemed, eagerly joined the sets forming. Persephone watched as the guests worked out their starting positions and negotiated partners and places. She really did seem happy.
“What do the pomegranate seeds symbolize?” Adam asked quite suddenly, quite without forethought.
“What?” Persephone asked, obviously taken aback.
“In the Persephone myth.” Adam was unexpectedly determined to have the answer. He would understand at least one mystery. “Linus said the seeds are symbols.”
“Has he been waxing philosophical?” Persephone smiled. “That is the one trait he inherited from Papa.”
“What do they symbolize?” Adam persisted.
Persephone looked at him, confused, intrigued. She finally relented, though her expression didn’t clear, “According to Papa, the seeds are symbolic of love.”
“Love?” Adam hadn’t been expecting that.
“Hades’s love for Persephone and her love for him.”
“How could she love someone who kept her prisoner?”
“Papa always believed that she came to know him beyond his fearsome demeanor and came to love him.” She still looked entirely bewildered. “Hades fell in love with Persephone as well. She was his match. Eating some of the seeds allowed her to return.”
“Then why not eat all of the seeds?” Adam watched her closely. “If they were so in love, why did she leave at all? If she had eaten all he offered her, she would have stayed forever.”
“Papa always believed that Hades did not force her to remain always because of her family’s grief.”
That didn’t sound right. “Linus said Hades never allowed anyone to leave his realm.”
“But HadeslovedPersephone,” she said.
