“She is a game, a pawn! Here you are flaunting her as if she were your queen.”
“She is my queen!” Hades barked, nearly coming out of his chair.
Minthe snapped her mouth closed, her eyes widening just slightly, as if she could not believe Hades had raised his voice at her. When she spoke again, it was in a tone as icy as the air around them.
“She will never be enough for you. She is spring. She will need light, and all you are is darkness.”
Minthe spun on her heels and left the ballroom, but her words remained, having hooked themselves in his skin. They brought his own thoughts to the surface, the ones he had buried deep, the doubt that Persephone, Goddess of Spring, could ever love him, the King of the Dead.
They could not be more different, and their entrance into this ballroom tonight had taught him that.
“Why are you sulking?” Hecate asked.
He had a feeling the goddess had been trying to sneak up on him, but as all her attempts, this one had failed too. Hades’ eyes slid to hers, and he glared.
She pursed her lips. “I know that look. What did Minthe do?”
“Spoke out of turn, what else?” he grated.
“Well.” Hecate’s voice changed pitch, and Hades knew she was about to say something that would only add to his frustration. “She must have spoken the truth, or you would not be so angry.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Hecate.”
He was staring at Persephone as she danced with the children of the Underworld. They held hands and pranced in a circle. Now and then they would break away from each other to twirl or Persephone would lift them into the air, laughing as the they shrieked with delight.
“She loves the children,” Hecate said.
Another pang in his chest.
Children.
It was something he could not give to Persephone, an option he had bargained away long ago. Could he really ask her to forgo being a mother to spend her eternity with him?
After a moment of silence, he spoke quietly. “I should let her go.”
Hecate sighed. “You are an idiot.”
Hades glared.
“She is happy!” Hecate argued. “How can you look at her and think you should let her go?”
“We are immortal, Hecate. What if she tires of me?”
“I tire of you,” she said. “I’m still here.”
“I knew I should not have tried to talk to you about this.”
He stared harder at the dance floor when he saw Persephone turn and come face to face with Charon. He bowed to her, that damned smirk upon his lips. He asked her to dance, and she took his hand.
His knuckles turned white as he clenched the arms of his throne.
“You could not let her go,” Hecate said. “You could never see her with another man.”
“If that was what she wanted—”
“She doesn’t want it,” Hecate said, cutting him off. “You must not assume you know her mind just because you have fears. Those are your demons, Hades.”
He gave her a dark look, and for a moment, Hecate’s expression was just as stern, then it softened and the corner of her mouth lifted.
“Let yourself be happy, Hades. You deserve Persephone.”
Then she wandered off into the crowd. Hades’ gaze returned to Persephone. She drew attention like a flame, her beauty, her smile and laughter, her very presence, radiating warmth and passion and life, and despite the fact that he had disliked their earlier separation, he liked watching her. It distracted him from the fact that Minthe returned, taking up space on his left, while Thanatos appeared on his right.
“Come to apologize?” he asked her.
“Fuck you,” she replied.
“He’s done that,” Hermes commented, sidling past them, white wings dragging the ground. He looked ridiculous, bare chested, wearing only a gold shroud over his waist. “It must not have been very good, because I don’t believe he ever went back.”
“Hermes,” Hades growled, but the god was already parting the crowd, heading straight for Persephone. She turned as he approached, and he bowed, asking her to dance. Hades watched, frustrated, as he took her into his arms and swayed, movements exaggerated and taking up space.
It wasn’t that he thought Charon or Hermes would take liberties, or that he was jealous because she danced with them. He was jealous because he felt as if he could not approach her, like the atmosphere of the room would change if he did. He should not fear it, this was his realm, but there was something so vibrant about this night. There was a life here that hadn’t been here before Persephone.