‘I want to stay here,’ I say bluntly.
‘Here?’ he asks, looking around the palace. ‘This is no place for a mortal.’
I would roll my eyes if I didn’t think it would undermine every single argument I have.
‘I’m no mortal.’
‘This is no place for the goddess of flowers,’ he corrects, though the tone of his voice tells me he doesn’t see much of a difference.
Fine.
‘You weren’t at my naming ceremony,’ I say. ‘You weren’t at anyone’s.’
‘I do not see how that relates.’
‘You’re not invited to ceremonies or festivals or celebrations.’
Hades glowers. ‘If there is a point you are trying to make, I suggest you get to it.’
‘This is the point,’ I say. ‘I stay here where no one else can find me. In return, you get the knowledge that my presence here is infuriating every Olympian who ever wronged you.’
Hades smiles patronizingly. ‘You think I want revenge.’
I shrug, like my entire existence does not depend on his answer. ‘Maybe, maybe not. But you do not need revenge for spite to be a viable option.’
‘So I give up my solitude by harbouring a goddess in order to spite the Olympians?’
‘Precisely.’
‘No.’
My mouth is dry. ‘Why not?’
He throws his head back as he chuckles, like this is so very funny. ‘I don’t need to explain my decisions to you.’ With that he rises. He’s tall, and on the throne’s plinth he towers above me. His black robes cling to him in ways they never did while he was sitting and my eyes fall again to the sword at his hip. ‘Now, if that’s all –’
‘No, that is not all,’ I snarl, my anger bursting from me before I can even attempt to get it under control. ‘You know exactly what horrors you’re condemning me to. You at least owe me an explanation.’
‘I’m condemning you to nothing,’ he snaps back, the crawling darkness clouding his eyes until the white vanishes altogether. The haze creeps closer to his skin, contracting like it might burst forth, an explosion of deathly power. His attempts to intimidate me only infuriate me more and perhaps he recognizes this because he blinks and the darkness vanishes, as does the full force of his anger. ‘Your father has done that. I am merely refusing to interfere with the will of the king of the gods. Quite simply, you are not worth angering the Olympians.’
‘You don’t wish to anger the Olympians?’
‘And have them retaliate in an endless cycle?’ There’s a condescending tone to his voice and his features are contorted with derision. If he pays any attention to my curling fists and burning eyes, it is only to let my hurt spur his indifferent cruelty on. ‘No, I do not wish to anger the Olympians. I wish for them to leave me alone.’
‘It seems like they’re already doing that,’ I say, unable to keep all the bitterness from my words and honestly not sure that I’m trying to.
I prefer his anger to his disinterest, to his treating this refusal like a trifling matter and not the end of my world.
But he seems bored now. He examines his sceptre again.At least look me in the eye, you coward.
‘Indeed, and, as I said, I am perfectly content.’
‘Well, what a thrilling way to spend your immortal life.’
‘You’re not going to change my mind with an argument.’
‘Perhaps not,’ I acknowledge. ‘But I don’t need to change your mind.’
Hades frowns.
