Girl, Goddess, Queen, page 17
I let go of his robes. ‘You’re an arse.’
He still has one hand on my shoulder and I’m far more aware of it than I should be.
‘And you’re incredibly uncoordinated. Do the suitors know?’ he jokes. ‘No husband will ever want you like that.’
I manage not to flinch but every cord of my body is suddenly strung so tight the slightest breeze could cause them to snap.
When I meet Hades’ eyes again I find him watching me carefully.
‘Your mother says similar things, doesn’t she?’
‘You can’t possibly know that.’
‘No, but I think I’m starting to.’ His jaw is clenched so tightly that I can see his muscles straining down his neck. If I stare at him for a second longer I’m scared about what I’ll do.
‘I …’
‘I don’t mean to pry.’
I shake my head. ‘I’m not sure I understand well enough myself. She’s a good mother.’
‘Perhaps,’ he says. ‘So long as you know that you’re a good daughter.’
My breath catches. That’s it, isn’t it? This feeling I keep getting isn’t about my mother at all, but about how nothing I do ever feels good enough, that who I am isn’t who she wants me to be. No matter how miserable I make myself doing as she asks, it still isn’t right.
‘If I were a good daughter I wouldn’t be here,’ I say. And it’s less because I mean it – I’m starting to feel like I was always meant to come here – and more because it’s the only way I can articulate the guilt that gnaws in my gut, guilt that refuses to listen to logical arguments and feelings of belonging.
‘Persephone –’
‘Can we not?’ I interrupt. I wish we could go back to the confusing muddle of yearnings because it’s better than this. ‘Later maybe,’ I add when he looks like he’s about to protest. ‘I don’t have the energy right now. And I’m covered in paint and need to change.’
‘Don’t you dare,’ he says. ‘I worked hard on that painting. If you have to wear it for it to survive then so be it.’
I offer a smile only because I appreciate him letting me change the subject. ‘If you don’t want to make me clothes you don’t have to use me wearing your art as an excuse.’
He laughs. ‘Well, was the thought of me designing your gowns really so horrendous that you had to jump into the artwork to escape?’
‘Would you actually be interested in making me something?’
‘I enjoy a challenge.’ When he looks at me I see one in his eyes. ‘Would you judge me for it?’
‘Of course not,’ I say. ‘Is it worth it though? You know I’ll just ruin them in the garden.’ And I won’t be here long to wear them. The unspoken words linger heavy between us so I rush on: ‘But if you’d find it fun then go for it. You’re obviously talented.’
‘Obviously?’ His cocky grin is back in place and I have the sudden urge to press my lips to his to get rid of it.
What in the name of all that is sacred is wrong with me? My moon blood is not due, though it’s possible being down here has messed with my cycle. Did I hit my head recently? I might be under a spell, I suppose, but I don’t think Hades would do that and I’m pretty sure cursing me would break his vow on the Styx.
My eyes narrow as I examine him, looking for any sign that he knows what thoughts are cycling through my head.
Nothing.
‘Why do you keep it all hidden?’ I ask instead.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why are the halls so bare when you have so much to decorate them with?’ I clarify.
‘Well.’ He scratches the back of his neck and it’s such a casual move that I’m almost certain he can’t know that it’s taking most of my self-restraint not to jump into his arms right now. ‘Usually, I have members of the court constantly coming and going. They might ask where it all comes from.’
I realize how little I know of Hades’ court. I had so many more immediate concerns when I arrived that as soon as I discovered he’d dismissed them I’d pushed it from my mind. But now I think about it. I cannot imagine Father dismissing his court for a few weeks. It might weaken his hold on them, give them an opportunity to plan a rebellion. But Hades did it without even thinking.
‘Where are they? I’ve only seen the humans and Styx.’
‘I’m not the only one with an aversion to human memories,’ Hades says. ‘Between the mortals and the river Styx, this is considered the less desirable side of the Underworld. They all live on the other side of the Acheron.’ The river of pain that flows on the other side of the fields of asphodel. It’s the way the souls travel to the Underworld so I’ve mostly avoided it. ‘I imagine they are thoroughly enjoying their time off.’
But that can’t last forever. Hades will summon them all back when I’m finally gone.
At least he won’t be alone.
‘I’m sorry you had to dismiss them all for me.’
‘Oh, I’m incredibly sad about it. No more task forces on the latest disease impacting the supply chain or panels on sustainable soul collecting, no more mediating their squabbles … Several annoying deities traded for the goddess of flowers?’ he teases. ‘Such a difficult trade.’
I shake my head. ‘You’re ridiculous.’
‘Is another man fawning over you too much for you to handle? Another man begging for your hand in marriage?’
‘Oh, not this again.’
‘Please be mine. Grace my halls with your presence forever –’
I’m laughing but my heart is galloping. ‘Well, maybe if you hadn’t been such a dick when I first got here …’
He places his hand on his heart and attempts to look pained. ‘Oh, what a fool I was –’
‘You look constipated.’
‘I’m trying to seduce you here!’
‘Try harder.’ I turn from him. I don’t think I’m blushing but I want to be sure. ‘Gods, I don’t remember you ever being in such high spirits.’
He shrugs and it’s back to that self-containment that I associate with him becoming serious again. ‘Your refusal of my proposal was of course quite the setback but, on the whole, these last few days have been nice.’ He hesitates. ‘You know, not having to hide parts of myself.’
I nod. I definitely understand that. ‘Yes, well, I was certainly never this bossy with my mother.’ We’re back on dangerous ground, so I race to continue. ‘It’s actually your painting I wanted to talk to you about.’
‘Oh?’
‘I’m still working out, well, a lot of all this …’
‘If crafting Hell were easy I’m sure Zeus would have already made a minor god do it and claimed the credit.’
‘True. Well, I’ve been talking to some of the humans and they describe things I’ve never seen: mountains so tall they could tear Olympus apart, lakes that stretch further than the eye can see, forests and villages and towns and waterfalls and snow so bright it’s blinding.’ An edge of longing creeps into my voice and I don’t realize until my throat tightens.
‘You could look in the Lake of the Five.’
‘It’s not the same. And anyway, well, I’ve got the flowers of paradise sorted but everything else? I have no idea. I can’t even picture it, really. I’m not artistic and I’ve been tasked with designing paradise.’
‘You tasked yourself, actually,’ Hades says pointedly.
Given I am asking him to do something for me, I can’t return his snark with more snark so I settle for ignoring that comment.
‘Will you do it? Sketch out an idea or paint some concepts?’
‘What do I know of human paradise?’ he says dismissively.
I won’t let him get away that easily. ‘I’ve seen the things you’ve made. I think you know a lot more about paradise than you let on. Otherwise what’s kept you going all these years?’
His shoulders freeze in rigid lines and I worry I’ve gone too far.
‘Very well,’ he finally says with a curt nod. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I shall go and make a start on your paradise.’
FOR THE NEXT FEW DAYS I flit around Hades like a nervous insect, too fearful of making contact. This longing feels like every bit of what the nymphs discussed so I recognize it for what it is: infatuation and nothing more. One does not fall in love in a few weeks, after all.
But I’m terrified of that infatuation growing.
My own feelings have become the enemy.
And, even though I’m doing my best to stamp it out, occasionally I permit myself to think of him while chewing on my lip, or I get lost in his eyes, or I lose an hour of sleep in anticipation of seeing him the next day. But thinking of softer moments – of what it would feel like to curl into his skin, to feel his breath on my neck, to talk until the small hours of the morning – that is a step too far. I have too much at stake to add emotions to the mix. Similarly, anything beyond the curiosity of his lips on mine is an absurdity. Picturing how we might build a life together – after mere weeks! – is more fantasy than anything the Muses could craft.
I blame his ridiculously well-tailored chiton and whichever god is responsible for cheekbones.
And low voices.
And that damn mocking smile of his.
Oh Fates, this is infuriating.
And yet, regardless of how loath I am to admit it, one thing is undeniable: I don’t want to lose him.
At breakfast three days later, Hades hands over a pile of dresses.
‘Try not to get paint on these. Mud I will accept as a hazard of your profession.’ He grins but then casts an anxious glance at the pile of fabrics. I’m unsure whether he’s scared I’ll mock them or that I’ll simply dislike them.
He needn’t have worried.
I take them to my room and try them on, one by one. The silk gown fits me like every movement is a caress against my skin. It’s burnt orange with white thread and I glance at the painting hanging above my bed. Asphodel is clearly a flower he likes an awful lot. Another is the pink of styx petals, with gathered material twisted into flowers round the waist. Others aren’t inspired by my flowers but feel like they were designed for me nonetheless – navy like the ink of the notes we take, a shifting red like the flames in the fireplace we sit beside, green and beaded like the leaves that float in the tea we share each evening.
They’re incredible and I tell him as much.
‘Mother buys me dresses the offspring of the Muses have created. They have nothing on this,’ I say.
I expect him to dismiss it, like I do with any compliment that comes my way, or to laugh it off with some grandiose statement about his own excellence. But he ducks his head and says a quiet thank you, like he’s pocketing the compliment.
Once we’ve eaten and I’ve chosen a dress – the navy, something about the way it swirls reminds me of the darkness of his illusory smoke – we head to the lake edge for my daily check-up on my mother. Hades won’t let me go alone any more. Or, rather, he begs me not to, tells me to take Styx if I won’t take him. I don’t mind him coming, though.
And something’s different today.
I know it from the moment Mother appears in the waters. There is less desperation in her eyes and more of a determined gleam. I’ve never seen her like this before. She is in a dark room lit only by the torch in her hand and her eyes dance with the reflection of the flames.
‘No,’ I whisper.
Hades takes my hand and I think it might be the first time he has chosen to do that. He lifts it to brush his lips.
‘You will be fine, Persephone, whatever happens.’
I blink at the lake as a hooded figure appears. The hood lowers to reveal a face so wrinkled and creased it takes me a moment to find her ink-black eyes among the alabaster folds. Hecate, goddess of magic. No. She might actually know something and obviously Mother thinks so too.
‘I cannot find her,’ she says. ‘Wherever she is, she is cloaked.’
‘But you know something, Hecate,’ Mother says. ‘Or you would not have taken my gift.’
‘I know many things,’ Hecate croons. She raises a wrinkled finger to gesture Mother closer.
‘Magic is a trade,’ Mother hisses. She is taller than Hecate but you can’t tell. ‘I gave you a sacrifice.’
I think of the nymphs she turned to sirens. What would she possibly give as a sacrifice? I have no doubt that, for my safe return, there is no line she would not cross.
Rivers of Hell, what have I done?
‘I can see her,’ Hecate says. ‘This is your trade.’
‘Where is she?’ Mother’s lips peel back to reveal teeth that gleam too white in the darkness. She is tired of asking.
‘She is in the mind of another,’ Hecate declares almost gleefully.
‘Explain.’
‘I am not your daughter, Demeter.’ Hecate grins like this whole interaction is the best thing to happen to her in years. I have no idea how old she is or where she came from. There are so many rumours about her parentage that there may as well be none. I know I’m not the only god to wonder if she’s older than the universe itself. ‘You cannot bark orders at me and expect me to comply.’
‘Can you please explain more?’ Mother forces the words through gritted teeth, her knuckles whitening round the torch she clutches.
Hecate cackles. ‘As you asked so nicely. I cannot see where she is now. But I can see a version of her, a memory.’
‘Someone saw her taken?’ Mother’s desperation has me clutching to Hades even tighter.
‘She disappeared in the middle of the day,’ Hecate almost sings. ‘On the sunny island of Sicily and only a single soul saw! Just one. Other than the two involved in the act, obviously.’
‘Who?’
‘I just told you.’
Mother waves the torch threateningly close to Hecate’s face. ‘I am in no mood for riddles.’
Hecate laughs and the sound is so gravelly the flames shake. She snaps her fingers and the torch flickers out.
‘What a good thing your child is smarter than you.’ Hecate grins. ‘The sun, Demeter. Helios saw all as he pulled it across the sky.’
‘Fates, this is it,’ I breathe.
‘You are safe,’ Hades repeats and I wonder who he is trying to convince. I’m certainly not stupid enough to believe him.
Father must have been watching because, in a lightning flash, Mother is before him. He lounges on his throne like it is the comfiest thing in the world but the fingers on his lightning bolt are taut and his back straightens as Mother approaches.
Mother speaks before he can demand it of her. ‘Helios knows,’ she says darkly and I pity poor Helios even as he is about to reveal my secrets. Mother will not look kindly on him for keeping this information from her. ‘We will have to wait until the sun sets to speak to him but we now have it on Hecate’s authority that he knows where she is, or at least what happened to her.’
‘Good,’ Father growls. He’s the angriest I have seen him, lightning sparking in the air around him as he shakes with rage. ‘I will kill whoever has taken her for what they have cost me. They have made me the laughing stock of the Heavens.’
‘I thought you said no one would –’
‘Well, they are!’ Father snaps. ‘They’re all laughing! I will destroy whoever has caused this, whoever dared snatch her away from us. I will tear them limb from limb until the punishment of Prometheus seems a kindness.’
I freeze. I hadn’t considered this. I’d assumed that sooner or later my parents would realize I ran away of my own volition. And maybe they will. But, if my father mistakenly believes Hades kidnapped me, he’ll punish him for it. All those threats, all those promises of pain … they’re promises for Hades. I’ve seen Father’s rage. I’d never be able to tell him the truth before he enacted his fury and he probably wouldn’t believe me if I did. Hades would be hurt. He might even be killed.
And, gods, if Zeus really were to go to war for my honour – and wars have been fought for less – even Poseidon’s support might not be enough.
How many humans would die in the slaughter between the three great gods?
I wave the vision away. I take a breath and stare at the inky waters. I can’t just stand and watch as they hunt me down, as they turn to Hades, seeking revenge for an imagined slight.
There’s only one thing that I can do.
‘Marry me,’ I say, because it’s the only way. If I’m married, they have no reason to be angry. If they believe he did not steal my honour but my hand then he’s safe.
He startles. ‘Excuse me?’
I can’t tell him. If I tell him it’s because I’m scared of what they’ll do to him, he’ll never agree to it. He’ll laugh and say that he’s fine, even as they level a blade to his throat.
I’ve put him and every being of this realm in danger. My father will slaughter him, or throw him in the same pit as the Titans, or at the very least snatch the crown from his head and give it to someone else, someone just like himself, and all three courts will be ruled by horrible, awful men. Because of me, Hades could lose everything – even his life.
‘You said the offer was still open,’ I say. Tears burn into my eyes but I don’t let them fall. ‘Please, Hades, I have to. They’re furious – they might –’ But that won’t convince him. He won’t agree to this because of Zeus’s threats. He’ll agree to this for me. ‘They’ll come and take me back and I don’t want to leave. I don’t want whatever marriage they’ll push me into. I can’t leave this place.’ I drop to one knee because isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? ‘If … marrying you is the only definite way to stay then … marry me, please.’
It might not be the reason I’m asking, but I’ll let him think it is if it’s what saves him.
Hades falls to his knees too and then he’s looking right at me.
‘Persephone.’ His hands cup my face, like if I look away for even a second I may not realize what decision I am making. ‘Are you sure about this?’
I can’t breathe, can’t look anywhere but at him. I feel like I could cry, knowing this moment isn’t real, not in the way I might want it to be. I don’t … Even if it were, I … In this moment I want him so badly that not having him feels like heartbreak.
