Persephone’s promise made Hades’s heart hurt, but he had no doubt she would hold to it—no matter how hard it would be.
“I know,” Lexa whispered, and for the first time since she arrived, there were tears in her eyes, but Thanatos took Lexa’s hand, and she seemed comforted by his presence. She let him lead her away, and when Hades and Persephone could no longer see them, they returned to the palace.
*
Once in their bedchamber, Hades encouraged Persephone to rest, and after she had fallen asleep, he found himself in Hecate’s meadow, where the goddess invited him for tea. Inside her small cottage, he felt like a giant, barely able to sit at her table, though he managed as she made a blend—one in particular she said would calm nerves.
“I hear our dear Persephone has had quite a harrowing evening,” she said.
Hades nodded, reflecting on the day. They had gone from one extreme to another—an intense high to a devastating low. He wavered between each of those memories—Persephone’s genuine happiness to her shocking pain.
There was a part of him that hated himself for this, that blamed himself for Lexa’s ultimate end. If he had been more forthright about his world, maybe none of this would have happened.
Hecate slammed a hand against the table, snapping Hades out of his thoughts.
He met her gaze, mildly annoyed.
“Stop that,” she said, setting a steaming cup of tea beside his arm. It smelled like chamomile, lavender, and mint.
He raised a brow at the goddess. “I thought we—”
“I don’t need to read minds to know when you are brooding because you scowl,” she said. “What’s done is done. There are no decisions that can take us back in time, only ones that move us forward. Right now, Persephone needs an attentive… boyfriend.”
Hecate seemed to shudder at that word, and despite everything, he smirked. “Fiancé,” he said.
Hecate blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Fiancé,” he said once more and added, “Persephone agreed to marry me.”
A slow smile broke out across Hecate’s face.
“Are you saying,” she said carefully, “that I get to plan a wedding?”
“I think you’ll have to talk to Persephone, but I doubt she would tell you no.”
“Engaged,” she said, as if she did not believe it, and sank into her chair across from him.
“Yes,” Hades said, amused by her response.
“Married,” she said.
“Eventually,” Hades said, though he hoped sooner rather than later.
Then she shook her head. “I never thought this day would come.”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” Hades said, though he had not been so certain either.
“You’re not exactly charming or good at communication,” Hecate said.
“And you’re an alcoholic.”
“Is there anything I am good at, Hecate?” Hades asked, and the goddess smiled.
“Learning.”
*
Hades spent another hour at Hecate’s cottage before returning to the palace, where he met Thanatos in his office. The God of Death offered an update on Lexa’s trip to Elysium, which had been, gratefully, uneventful. There were times when souls who drank from the Lethe became hostile and lashed out at the god, but Lexa had been pleasant, quiet, almost shy.
“I fear it will be some time before Persephone can visit with Lexa,”
Thanatos said.
“I will tell her,” Hades said and added, “Thank you, Thanatos, for taking care of her.”
Hades noticed a faint blush color the god’s cheeks, and he opened his mouth to respond but settled on a simple nod before leaving.
It was then, while alone, that the day crashed down on him, and he was filled with a restless energy he couldn’t shake. His thoughts stormed through his mind, as relentless as the flames in the fireplace he stood before.
This time, rather than dwelling on how he might have prevented Lexa’s end, he felt fear—fear that Persephone would blame him, that once she had time to think about how this had unfolded, she would see that he had failed her.
The guilt made his eyes sting, and when the door opened, he stiffened.
There was a part of him that was preparing for her rage and a part of him that feared seeing the weight of her sadness, feared that when he looked upon her, he would break too.
He felt her draw near, though hesitant, and he was surprised when she asked, “Are you well?”
He swallowed hard around the thickness in his throat. He should be asking her. “Yes, and you?”