“Of course I’ll play,” she said.
A chorus of cheers erupted as she walked with the children to a clear part of the meadow out of the way of the souls preparing for Hades’ celebration.
Persephone played catch with the dogs and tag and a million other games the children made up. The meadow was wet and Persephone slid a lot. By the time she walked away from the field, she was covered in mud but happily exhausted.
It had grown dark in the Underworld, and musicians began to play sweet notes on their instruments. Souls filled the streets to chat and laugh. The smell of meat cooking and sweets baking filled the air. It wasn’t long before Persephone found Hecate in the crowd, and the goddess smiled, amused by Persephone’s appearance.
“My dear, you are a mess.”
The Goddess of Spring smiled. “It was an intense game of tag.”
“I hope you won.”
“I was a complete failure,” she said. “The children are far more adept.”
The two laughed, and another soul approached. Persephone recognized the man as Ian. He was a blacksmith and kept his forge hot, working metal into beautiful blades and shields. She’d asked him once why he seemed to be preparing for battle, and the man had replied, “Habit.”
Persephone didn’t think too long on that just as she tried not to think too long on Isaac.
“My lady,” Ian said. “Asphodel has a gift for you.”
Persephone waited, curious, as the soul dropped to his knee and drew a beautiful gold crown from behind his back. This wasn’t just any crown, though. It was a series of carefully crafted flowers made into a circlet. Among the bouquet, she spied roses and lilies and narcissus. Tiny gems of various colors sparkled at the center of each flower.
“Will you wear our crown, Lady Persephone?”
The soul wasn’t looking at her, and she wondered if he feared her rejection. She glanced up, and noted that the whole place had gone quiet. The souls waited, expectant. She thought of Yuri’s comments earlier. These people had come to think of her as a queen, and accepting this crown would only encourage that, but not accepting would hurt them.
Against her better judgment, she placed a hand on Ian’s shoulder and knelt to him. She looked into his eyes and answered, “I will gladly wear your crown, Ian.”
She allowed the soul to place the crown upon her head and everyone broke into cheers. Ian grinned, offering his hand, he led her into a dance at the center of the dirt walkway, beneath the lights the souls had strung overhead.
Persephone felt ridiculous in her stained dress and gold crown, but the dead didn’t seem to notice or care. She danced until she could scarcely breathe and her feet hurt. When she moved toward Hecate for respite, the Goddess of Witchcraft said, “I think you could use some rest. And a bath.”
Persephone laughed. “I think you are right.”
“They will celebrate all night long,” she said. “But you have made their night. Hades has never visited to celebrate with them.”
Persephone’s heart fell. “Why not?”
Hecate shrugged. “I cannot speak for him, but it is a question you may ask.”
The two returned to the palace. On their way to the baths, Persephone explained that she had received two tickets to the Olympian Gala, and asked if Hecate had any spells that might help go unseen by her mother. The goddess considered her question, and then asked, “Do you have a mask?”
Persephone frowned. “I planned to pick one up tomorrow.”
“Leave it to me,” Hecate said.
The bathes were located at the back of the fortress and accessed through an archway. When Persephone stepped inside, she was greeted by the smell of fresh linen and lavender. A warm mist coated her skin and sank into her bones. She flushed with the warmth of the air, and it was welcomed after her evening spent in the muddy meadow.
Hecate led her down a network of steps, passed several smaller pools and showers.
“This is a public bath?” She asked. In antiquity, public bath houses were very common, but they’d fallen out of popularity in modern times. She wondered how many in the palace used this house, among them, Minthe and Hades.
Hecate laughed. “Yes—though Lord Hades has his own private pool. That is where you will bathe.”
She didn’t protest. She wasn’t keen on bathing in public. Hecate paused to gather supplies for Persephone—soap and towels and a lavender peplos. Persephone hadn’t worn the ancient garment in nearly four years—since she left Olympia and the greenhouse for New Athens.