‘I love you too,’ he says but he’s addressing the ceiling. ‘Which is not something I’ve ever – well, you know.’
Of course I don’t know. But then, I sort of do. And, oh gods, sometimes I long for the forgetful waters of the Lethe just so I don’t have to think at moments like this.
‘Are you –’
‘You take the bed tonight,’ Hades says abruptly and whatever moment might have been forming between us shatters. ‘I’ll sleep on the floor.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I say. ‘This bed is nearly as big as Sicily.’
Hades laughs, a short, sharp exhale that takes him by surprise. ‘I think you might be exaggerating.’
‘You’re my husband and my friend,’ I say. ‘You’re sleeping in the bed with me.’
‘I truly don’t mind the floor. It’s far nicer than most places I slept during the war,’ he says.
‘“Better than the war” isn’t actually something most girls want to hear on their wedding day, darling,’ I say. ‘Get in the bed please.’
He pauses a moment before finally nodding. ‘Fine, but turn round while I change into my nightclothes.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes,’ he says and I can almost feel the heat rushing to his cheeks from here.
I do as he asks and pick the flowers from my hair while I wait, letting them fall into a neat pile on a nearby table. Finally he calls that he’s done.
‘I couldn’t ask the nymphs to bring you anything,’ Hades says. ‘It might have suggested that we weren’t planning on … you know. Most newlyweds don’t sleep in clothes on their wedding night. But you can borrow something of mine, if you like?’
I nod and he passes me a soft silk robe. I gesture for him to turn round and, even though I trust him completely not to look, my skin still races with goosebumps as I take my clothes off. I nearly break something trying to unbutton the dress myself but I don’t think I could cope if I asked for his help.Him peeling the buttons open one by one, his fingers brushing my spine …
I get the dress off and it feels ruinous, all that carefully crafted tulle and lace falling in a heap on the floor. I pick it up and fold it before I even reach for the robe to cover myself.
‘I’m done,’ I say and his face is impassive as he turns round from very determinedly staring at the ocean waves painted on his wardrobe. My heart is thumping erratically, like I had hoped he would not be able to keep his eyes from me, just like earlier at the altar.
If his pretence is capable of tricking my feelings, maybe mine can be too. So I do what I do best, what I have done for years around my mother: I plaster a smile I don’t mean across my face.
‘Well, then,’ I say, crawling on to the bed and pulling the blankets up when a shiver crosses my skin. ‘Tell me everything.’
‘What do you mean?’ he asks, standing still by the edge of the bed.
‘How were the gods when you were alone with them? Do you think they were convinced?’
‘Of course they were convinced,’ he says. ‘Our deceit works so well precisely because no one is looking for it.’
‘Everyone was looking for it,’ I say, voice dropping. ‘Everyone wanted some clue that I wasn’t nearly as happy as I was pretending. Everyone was looking for a tragedy.’
‘And did they find one?’
‘Of course not.’ I’m offended by his lack of belief.
‘Zeus was predictably furious, as you heard,’ Hades says. ‘Ares wasn’t happy to have been – what was it he said – “usurpedby trickery”. That was it, mostly. Dionysus was as delighted as Hermes. It seems neither is particularly fond of their father. Poseidon was so overjoyed it almost overshadowed my own excitement for the wedding.’
‘Did it?’
‘No,’ he says without hesitating. ‘But between attendees from my court and his, any disgruntled Olympians were clearly outnumbered. By the end, I’m sure most probably couldn’t remember why they were hesitant in the first place.’
‘So it went as well as could be hoped for?’
Hades pauses and I wonder if something else happened that he’s not telling me. But all he does is look at me. ‘It was perfect.’
