Hades dared to laugh. “You could not give me what I want.”
The woman stared, and Persephone’s heart wrenched at the look in the woman’s eyes. She was defeated. The woman hung her head, and her shoulders shook as she sobbed into her hands.
“You were my last hope. My last hope.”
Hades approached her, placed his fingers under her chin, and lifting her head. After he brushed her tears away, he said, “I will not enter into a contract with you because I do not wish to take from you,” he said. “That does not mean I will not help you.”
The woman was shocked—Persephone was shocked, and Hermes chuckled under his breath.
“Your daughter has my favor. She will be well and just as brave as her mother, I think.”
“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” The woman threw her arms around Hades, and the god stiffened, clearly unsure of what to do with the woman. Finally, he conceded, and embraced her. After a moment, he pulled her away and said, “Go. See to your daughter.”
The woman took a few steps back and said, “You are the most generous god.”
Hades looked amused. “I will amend my previous statement. In exchange for my favor, you will tell no one I have aided you.”
The woman looked surprised. “But—”
Hades put up his hand—he would hear no argument. Finally, the woman nodded. “Thank you,” she said and then turned to leave, practically racing out of the office. “Thank you!”
Hades watched the door for a moment before locking it with a snap of his fingers. Before she knew what was happening, she and Hermes were falling out of the mirror. Persephone wasn’t prepared and hit the floor with a loud thud. Hermes landed on his feet.
“Rude,” the God of Trickery said to Hades.
“I could say the same,” The God of the Dead replied, his eyes falling unfavorably to Persephone as she got to her feet. “Hear everything you wanted?”
“I wanted to go to the Underworld but someone revoked my favor.”
It was like she hadn’t even spoken. Hades gaze turned to Hermes. “I have a job for you, messenger.”
Hades snapped his fingers, and without warning, Persephone was dumped in her desolate garden on her backside. A growl of frustration erupted from her mouth, and as she got to her feet, brushing dirt off her clothes, she yelled to the sky.
“Ass!”
CHAPTER XI – A TOUCH OF DESIRE
Persephone watered her garden, cursing Hades as she worked. She hoped he could hear every word. She hoped it cut him deep. She hoped he felt it every time he moved.
He’d ignored her.
He’d dumped her in the Underworld like she was nothing.
She had questions. She had demands. She wanted to know why he’d helped the woman, why he’d demanded her silence? What was the difference in this woman’s request and Orpheus’ wish to bring Eurydice back from the dead?
When she finished watering her garden, she tried to teleport back to Hades’ office but found herself stuck. Why did he send her here? Did he have plans to find her after he was finished with Hermes? Would he restore her favor or would she have to find him every time she wanted to enter the Underworld?
That would be annoying.
She must have made him very angry.
She decided she would explore his palace in his absence. She had only seen a few rooms—Hades’ office, bedchamber, and the throne room. She was curious about the rest, and it was well within her rights to explore. If Hades got mad, she could argue that, judging by the state of her garden, it would be her home in six months anyway.
As she investigated, she noted Hades’ attention to detail. There were gold accents, and various textures—fur rugs and velvet chairs. It was a luxurious palace, and she admired the beauty of it, just as she admired the beauty of Hades. She tried to argue with herself—it was in her nature to admire beauty. It didn't mean anything to think the God of the Dead and his palace were extraordinary. He was a god, after all.
Her exploration of the palace ended when she found the library.
It was magnificent. She had never seen anything like it—shelves and shelves of books with gorgeous, thick spines and gold embossing. The room itself was well furnished. A large hearth took up the far wall, flanked by dark shelves. These weren’t full of books, but ancient clay vases inked with images of Hades and the Underworld. She could imagine settling into one of the cozy chairs, curling her toes into the soft rug and reading.
This would be one of her favorite places, Persephone decided, if she lived here.