“And how would I be able to give that to you?”
“I—” I paused. If I lied now, I might never have another chance like this. We might never have another chance like this, and lying would only bring more pain in the long run. “Freedom. Let me go. Give me a divorce.”
Agony I hadn’t expected flashed across his face. Whatever I was to him, it was more than I’d realized. Much, much more. That wasn’t the pain of a man losing his pride. That was the pain of a man losing everything he loved.
“I cannot do that,” he said, his words little more than a whisper. “If it were in my power, I would give you everything you desired, including a divorce. But the bonds that tie you to the Underworld as its queen are stronger than even I am.”
Any and all hope drained from me, leaving me hollow and numb. Whether it was true or not, of course he would hide behind my vow to the Underworld. If I’d been capable of shedding more tears, I would have, but as it was, I was completely empty.
So this was it. This was my life from here on out—a slave not only to a husband I didn’t love, but to a realm I hated with every breath in my body. Everyone would have a happy ending except me.
And Hades, I realized, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. His fate was tied with mine, and he looked almost gray in the low candlelight. This wasn’t just my life we were talking about. It was his, as well.
He’d known what he was getting into when he’d agreed to marry me, though. He knew this was a possibility, that I would never love him. Or maybe it’d never occurred to him. Either way, he’d made his choice; he’d had one to make in the first place. I hadn’t.
I started to stand. I wanted to be anywhere but there—even his bedroom would’ve been better than this, as long as he wasn’t there, too. But as soon as I straightened, he turned to me, his eyes glistening in the firelight.
“What if…” He swallowed. I’d never seen him at a loss like this before, and it broke every good thing inside me. “What if I were to give you a choice?”
I folded my arms over my chest, hugging myself. “You just said you couldn’t.”
“I cannot allow you to leave permanently,” he agreed slowly, his focus fixed on something over my shoulder. “But if you were to return and help me rule on a regular basis…”
My heart began to pound. “What do you mean?”
At last he looked at me, and his silver eyes, so crowded with everything he couldn’t say, sent a shiver down my spine. “If I were to give you half of every year to do with as you will…would that make you happy?”
Half a year. Half of the rest of my life. Was he serious? I watched him closely for any signs it was an empty offer, but everything about him was sincere. “Yes,” I said, a thread of hope weaving its way through me. Freedom. Real freedom, even if it was only temporary. “That would make me happy.”
He nodded once, twice, three times, as if trying to convince himself. “Then—that is what I will do. From sunrise on the spring equinox to sunrise on the autumnal equinox, you may spend your time wherever you would like. In Olympus, on the surface, even—” He cleared his throat. “Even down here, if you wish.”
We both knew that wouldn’t happen, but I took his hand anyway. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”
I couldn’t let myself believe it, not yet, not until I felt the sunshine on my skin and the wind in my hair, but the crushing look of loss on his face all but confirmed his offer was real. “You do not have to,” he said. “Your happiness is all the thanks I need, and it is all I ask in return. Just come back to me.”
Against my better judgment, knowing it might only hurt him more, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. It was the most intimate contact we’d had since our wedding night. “I will. Thank you.”
Rather than blush or give me a boyish smile, as Hermes might’ve done, Hades let go of my hand and stepped back. Without saying a word, he gave me one more tight nod, and the next moment, he was gone.
I sank back into my chair, elation and dread tumbling around inside me. Finally I would have what I wanted—a chance to live my own life, even if it was really only a half life. But at the same time, the pain on Hades’s face, the thought of what Mother would say—
No. I was done worrying about what everyone else wanted for me. This was my life, my world, my future, not theirs. And now that I had a second chance, I wasn’t about to give it up again. Not for anyone.
Part Two
True to his word, Hades brought me to the surface on the spring equinox. He’d said little all morning, and as we arrived in a cool meadow, he was silent. As soon as we were on steady ground, he dropped my hand, and I hesitated.
“Thanks,” I said at last, and I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’ll see you soon.”
He nodded once, and before I could say another word, he disappeared. I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of nature even as a fist tightened around my heart. But I would come back to him eventually, much happier than I had been, and in the meantime, I could do what I wanted. We both lost, yes, but we both won, as well.
“Persephone?” Mother’s voice cut through the dewy morning air, and I wasted no time. One moment I stood alone in the middle of the meadow, and the next I barreled straight into her open arms. It didn’t matter that this was only temporary. Being here with her made me soar.
“I missed you,” I mumbled into her chest, and she wrapped her arms around me in a secure embrace.
“As I missed you,” she said, but there was a hint of something I hadn’t expected in her voice—disappointment.
I clenched my jaw. If what Aphrodite had said was true and Mother and Zeus had married me off to Hades as some sort of twisted revenge on Hera, then she had no right to be disappointed. None at all.
But even that momentary spark of anger couldn’t ruin the morning, and I slipped out of her hug and took her hand. We had two entire seasons to talk. Right now, I was going to relish my freedom and forget every awful feeling that had built up inside me in the Underworld. I wasn’t going to waste this, not for anything.
“Come, my darling,” she said, leading me into the forest. “Let’s go home.”
* * *
Home turned out to be a small cottage on the edge of a clearing deep in the woods. By the time we reached it, I had no idea where we’d gone or how we’d gotten there, but I didn’t care. As long as it wasn’t the Underworld, I would follow her anywhere.
It was small, one room divided into a cooking area, a sleeping area and a place to sit. Flowers and herbs hung from the rafters, creating a dizzying scent, and everything was handcrafted, as if she’d hired mortals to build it for her.
Zeus would’ve hated it. I loved it instantly.
We settled in, but the roof over my head reminded me of my constant claustrophobia in the Underworld, so soon enough we moved outside. Together we tended the tidy garden, and sometime in midafternoon, I worked up the courage to ask the question that had haunted me ever since Aphrodite had mentioned it.
“Did you marry me off to Hades because of Hera?”
Mother looked at me, her eyes wide, and her mouth formed a small circle. Dirt streaked across her face, and in her hands she cupped the beginnings of an orchid encased in earth. “What?”
My cheeks burned, but it was too late to back down now. “Someone told me that you made me marry Hades because Zeus wanted to make sure he wouldn’t have an affair with Hera.”
She said nothing as she gently set the flower in its new home. Once it was properly in place, she sat back on her heels and wiped her hands. “Who told you that?”
I shook my head. I may have envied Aphrodite to the point that it actually hurt, but I wasn’t about to betray her trust. “A reliable source.”
“Ah, yes. The world seems to be full of those.” She sighed. “It’s no small wonder that Hera isn’t happy about your marriage. You know how she feels about Zeus’s illegitimate children. I don’t blame her in the sl
ightest, and a very large part of me feels a great deal of shame for betraying her in such a way. But I can’t regret it, not when the result was you.”
She set her hand over mine, and while I didn’t pull away, I didn’t take hers, either. “You’re avoiding the question.”
Mother pursed her lips. “I don’t know what to tell you, my darling. Only that I arranged your marriage because Hades is a wonderful man, and I could think of no one who could possibly love you more.”
“So Zeus had nothing to do with it?” I said. She hesitated.
“Zeus was the one to suggest him, certainly, but—”
“Is Hera in love with Hades?”
She blinked. “What makes you say that?”
“Is she?”
Mother rubbed her cheek, causing the streak of dirt to spread. “We all love Hades very much. Perhaps it is because he is the best of us all, or perhaps distance has something to do with it. We know each other so intimately in Olympus, but Hades is removed from us, and it is easy to forget his flaws. As far as I know, however, while Hera loves Hades as a brother, she has no interest in him as a lover. She is faithful to Zeus, as much as that pains her.”
That was sort of an answer, at least. A half answer, but an answer nonetheless. “So Zeus didn’t suggest I marry Hades simply because he wanted to make sure Hera was kept on a tight leash?”
Mother laughed, but there was something oddly humorless about it. “Oh, sweetheart. Hera does only what she wants. If she wanted Hades as a lover, she would have him, but she is far too devoted to her duties to ever betray the council that way. Zeus and I discussed all of our options, and in the end, we thought Hades would be the best match for you.”
“And Hades? What did he think?”
“He was intrigued,” she said. “He needed help with his duties, with the way the world is expanding, and he agreed so long as you were willing.”
Willing. Funny how my definition seemed so different from my parents’. At least now I knew that if Hades had been aware of my hesitations, he would’ve never gone through with our marriage. That was a small comfort. “Did it never occur to you that I might want to decide on my own?”
“Darling.” She squeezed my hand. I didn’t squeeze back. “Yes, it occurred to me. Many, many times. But I was so certain you would love Hades as much as we all do, and he was in desperate need of help. I can’t tell you how deeply sorry I am that your marriage has caused both of you so much pain, but I haven’t given up hope yet. None of us have. And perhaps this time away will do you both some good.”
I was silent. If that was the reason she’d agreed to this summer—because she saw it as a way to convince me a marriage with Hades wasn’t so bad after all—then I had nothing more to say. I would be his queen for eternity; if Hades couldn’t sever that tie, then there was nothing anyone could do. But this half year was mine to live as I wanted, not to pine over a husband I didn’t love or a realm I hated.
I loved Mother. I loved our family. But the more I opened my eyes to the world around me, the more I began to realize that she and I wanted very different things for my life. And I was no longer afraid to tell her no.
* * *
Hermes came to visit that night, long after the sun had set. Mother answered the knock on the door, but when she invited him in, the suspicion behind her smile made me nervous. It wasn’t the kind of smile she gave guests—it was the kind she gave Hera when they were forced to play nice. I intercepted them, looping my arm in Hermes’s. “Why don’t we go for a walk?” I said, and he nodded.
“That’s what I was going to suggest, actually.”
I forced a grin. “Perfect. We’ll be back soon, Mother.”
Without giving her a chance to protest, I led Hermes out of the cottage and through the garden. As soon as we ducked into the forest and out of Mother’s line of sight, I exhaled.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “She’s been on edge.”
“Don’t apologize.” Hermes stepped over a fallen tree and offered me a hand. I didn’t need his help, but I took it anyway. “She’s rooting for you and Hades to work out. Everyone is.”
“I’m not so sure it will,” I admitted.
“Maybe it will, maybe it won’t,” he said. “But right now you’re not going to think about him at all, because I have a surprise for you.”
I brightened. Hades brought me surprises practically every other day, but the thrill of anticipation ran through me anyway. It meant more somehow, coming from Hermes. “What kind of surprise?”
“That’s a secret,” he said with a grin. “It does come with a price, though—you have to trust me and close your eyes when I say so.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You expect me to let you lead me through an unfamiliar forest in the middle of the night?”
“And I expect you not to peek, either.”
I sighed dramatically. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him—I did, and a few falls wouldn’t exactly hurt either of us—but what little control I had lately was precious to me. And he must’ve known that. “Oh, fine,” I said. “Just don’t get us lost.”
“Me, get us lost?” He snorted. “I’m more likely to get us killed.”
“And that’s supposed to boost my confidence in you how?” I said with a grin. I hadn’t felt this good in ages.
At last, as we approached a clearing, Hermes stopped. “Close your eyes,” he said, and I obeyed, my heart fluttering. He may not have had access to the riches Hades did, but that made this all the better.
Step by step, he led me through the remaining trees, artfully avoiding every stone and root. The air changed once we reached the meadow, cooler now that the forest canopy wasn’t above us. “Can I open them now?”
“Almost,” he said. “Just two more steps and…now.”
I opened my eyes and gasped. At our feet was a midnight picnic, with fruits and meats and nectar, but that wasn’t the part that took my breath away. Above us, the night sky twinkled with countless stars, somehow brighter and more stunning than I remembered. Away from the light of dusk, they glittered, and I sank to the ground beside the picnic. I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life.
“It’s incredible,” I whispered. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve missed this.”
“I figured you might like it,” said Hermes, and he sat down beside me. “Zeus likes to create fables to go along with them, you know. Most of them are based on us. Like that cluster right there—the Pleiades. One of the stars is called Maia, after my mother.”
“Do I have one yet?” I said, and he chuckled.
“Not that I know of, but I’ll make sure to get right on that.”
I grinned, but that soon faded into a wistful smile. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”
“What, show you the stars?” he said, and he offered me a pomegranate. My favorite fruit, and the kind Hades brought me for breakfast every day. I shook my head. Not tonight. Not while I was on the surface. I didn’t want that reminder.
“Do something nice for me that didn’t have strings attached,” I said.
He shrugged, but even in the darkness, I could see his ears turn pink. “It’s just a picnic.”
It wasn’t, though. All of Hades’s gestures, all of his gifts, they weren’t things I wanted. They were things he’d hoped I would like, but I hadn’t needed any of them. This, however—the stars, the open sky, the taste of freedom no matter how fleeting it was—this was what I’d been searching for.
I lay in the grass, picnic forgotten for now as I stared up at the sky. Hermes lay beside me, and I groped around until I found his hand. “I heard what you said to Hades.”
Silence. “You did?”
“Yes.” Tearing my gaze from the stars, I looked at him. “Thank you. For sticking up for me, for saying what he needed to hear—”
“Zeus wasn’t happy with me,” he admitted.
“Zeus is never happy with anyone. He didn’t punish you, did he?”
“Just a verba
l thrashing in front of the council. It happens.”
I brushed my thumb against the palm of his hand. “I know it isn’t much, but I would’ve never been this happy again if it wasn’t for you.”
He met my gaze, a small smile playing on his lips. “That’s all the thanks I need.”
I wasn’t sure who moved in first, or if we both got the same idea at the same time. I wasn’t sure it even mattered. One moment we lay there side by side, and the next he was kissing me, and I was kissing him, and the whole world seemed to go quiet.
This wasn’t just lips against lips; this was warmth and comfort and safety and knowing he cared enough about me to risk his own neck. Not because he needed help ruling, not because I was promised to him, but because he saw me, flaws and all, and he cared anyway.
I wrapped myself around him, wanting to be closer to someone for the first time in my life. This wasn’t like my wedding night; there was no pressure, no expectations, and I wanted this. I wanted him.
He didn’t stop me, and I didn’t stop him. At last I understood what Aphrodite was always going on about and why Zeus tested Hera time and time again. This warmth, this comfort, this all-encompassing love—this was what I was meant to feel. Not hurt or guilt or chains. I kissed him deeper, needing to be as close to him as possible; and underneath those glittering stars, he set me free.
As long as I had this, I always would be.
* * *
I returned to the cottage at dawn, my hair tangled and my step lighter than it’d been since I’d first entered the Underworld. Mother took one look at me, and her face fell.
“Persephone. You didn’t.”
I breezed past her. I’d cleaned up in a stream, of course, but I needed my comb. “Don’t worry about it, Mother.”
“Of course I will. This is your marriage.” She followed me through the small cottage. “Sweetheart—”
“Don’t.” I whirled around to face her, brandishing my comb like a sword. “I’m not with Hades right now. I haven’t been with him since we got married, and right now, I can do whatever I want. I’m supposed to do whatever makes me happy.”