I know you need time. And space. I’m doing my best to give it to you but if there’s anything you need from me, anything I can do, please let me know. Hades.
I crumple it up and throw it in the fire.
I don’t see Hades for days.
Court is open once more and, while I’m dying to take part, I know it’s where Hades is. I also know that he hates it. He’dmuch rather be researching the mortals like I am. Instead he’s chairing meetings, sparring with the other gods and mediating disputes.
Meanwhile, I alternate between the library and talking to the mortals. It seems I needed a break to work out exactly what I wanted to do – even if the wedding was far from relaxing – because, coming back to it, everything seems so clear. In just a few days I finish my concept for the afterlife. Not just the big picture but all its little working parts, the things that have occurred to me in the middle of the night, solutions to problems that have tripped me up for weeks.
His research is instrumental. His paintings of paradise are inspirational.
All I want is to share this with him.
And, gods, it’s the last thing I want to admit, but I miss him.
I start, several times, to write a letter to my mother, only to end up screwing it up and throwing it into the fireplace. I thought it would be a simple matter, contacting her after the wedding to plead with her to meet me so I can explain.
But what do I say?
Mother, I wanted this. I know I put you through so much and I’m sorry. But I love you and I miss you and I think there’s a way we can all be happy.
Please meet Hades. I think you’ll like him. I’m not actually talking to him at the moment but I’m sure it will be fine. You see, our marriage is a ruse. Only maybe it’s not. Because it turns out I have power – massive, seemingly life-changing power – and there’s a slight chance Hades married me for it.
I don’t think he did. But he might have.
And the only reason I don’t think he did is because it would go against everything I know about him. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you were right – maybe I really don’t know much of this world and I should have listened to you rather than be manipulated like this and I –
The worst part is, if he did marry me for power, then he used my greatest fear to trap me.
Sorry, I know a marriage for my power isn’t really all that different from a marriage for my skills in weaving or sewing – but I tried telling you so many times that I couldn’t do that. I never wanted to run away but I felt like the other option – marriage – was no option at all.
I wish you’d fought Father. I know that’s not fair – how could you fight the king of the gods? But I think I’m angry with you that you didn’t. I found another option – why couldn’t you? I would have stayed with you on that island forever, even though all I wanted was to see the world. I could have suffered giving that dream up, but I couldn’t suffer marriage to an Olympian. I never wanted to hurt you, though, and I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I hope you can find a way to love who I’ve become. My friends here make me feel like that’s possible: Styx and these mortals you’d love and Hades –
Maybe I just want to believe him because I like him. I really do, Mother, and I’m worried about it. I love him – and I don’t know in what way. Eros? Well, Mother, I’m not talking to you about that one. Philia? Love on the level of the soul? How would I even know what that feels like? Ludus? Yes, I think so – playful love is all we have. Unless he lied to me.
And what does it matter how I love him, when he’s made it very clear he only loves me as a friend? A friend he lied to …
Yeah, I’m not telling my mother anything until I work this out.
Styx is no help. Though I’m not sure why I thought she would be when her usual advice about anything relating to Hades is that we just hurry up and kiss already.
I finally venture to where the other gods live, a sprawling collection of homes made of deep red stone and black slate roofs. The river of fire crackles round the town’s edges and my flowers gather in ragged patches. In a field on the other side of the river, Cerberus charges past, chasing one of the flapping Erinyes. The whole thing is cosy and warm and fun – drinking halls and parks, long sloping gardens attached to each home, though what they were before I brought flowers I have no idea. One garden appears to have a pool of lava, as though the Phlegethon were not right there, offering its flames.
Styx walks alongside me, pointing out who lives where until I blurt out that Hades and I aren’t talking.
‘Already? Shouldn’t you be in your honeymoon phase?’
I explain why and her brow furrows.
‘That dick …’ She folds her arms and glares in the direction of the palace, playing up her displeasure a bit too much.
‘But?’
‘But?’
‘There’s a but, I assume.’
‘Well.’ She pauses. ‘Okay, he should have told you. But I thought you knew.’
