‘But nowhere near as fun.’ I grin. ‘Besides, this was easy. Inspired by Apollo, believe it or not.’
Hades’ grin falls and a hint of concern shines in his eyes. ‘Those words should never be so carelessly uttered. Now you must show me.’
‘Great, come on.’ I rush to him, preparing to forcibly pull him to the door, but then I see his painting. ‘By the Styx, Hades. This is incredible.’
‘You say that about every painting.’
‘Yes.’
He’s painted galaxies and stars, constellations that shift on the canvas and nebulae that gleam. I can’t believe it’s actual paint. And the layers of it – those thick smears of paint add such depth I feel like I could reach right through it.
‘Well, as much as I adore your compliments, I’m too worried about whatever Apollo has inspired you to do. Don’t keep me in suspense.’
I take him outside. I have been thinking about the way Apollo strummed his lyre and vanished – he tied transport to his domain. Now, with the slightest bending of my will, flowers spring beneath my feet. And with their touch they pull me through their roots and push me out in another patch of flowers, just behind Hades. I tap his shoulder and he shrieks.
We’re both laughing too hard to catch our breath. He clutches his chest and tells me not to do that again without warning, which of course just makes me do it several more times when he’s not expecting it.
I appear and disappear at will until he predicts where I’ll go next. As I appear I see his arm coming towards me, ready to grab my outstretched hand, and I’m not sure what happens next. I overbalance and he catches me, arm round my waist, and in the lurch of me falling he pulls back and pulls me to him. Suddenly I’m flush against him, his hand at my waist, our laughter catching into a breathlessness that leaves us staring, mere inches from each other’s faces.
‘Thanks,’ I say. I think of our dance at our wedding, the way he was the only thing keeping me standing.
He seems lost for words and just stares at me with an odd expression. I feel that rush, the lust that shone when we first appeared to the court, the thing that jolts us apart as soon as we step away from a crowd in case it lingers. Is it possible he feels it too?
In the second before he lets go, I’m certain he’s going to kiss me.
So, when his fingers slip, I don’t think to catch myself. I stagger back, struggling to keep on my feet.
‘Of course,’ he says. The look on his face hasn’t changed. I’m wrong, I must be wrong, because it looks like longing. ‘I merely hope I may be there to catch you whenever you fall.’
He looks like he’s about to say something else too. The words are right there, almost tangible … and then he shakes his head. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to go talk to Styx.’
Which is a lie because Styx is on a date.
Which means he just wants to get away from me.
At court the following week, I sit perched on the edge of my throne discussing the changes the gods of the Underworld wish to be made to the realm, things that would make it a paradise for them as well as the humans.
The day has been stressful with the usual fires to put out – including an actual fire where the Phlegethon veered too close to a bank of my flowers. I get the feeling this is a form of relaxation for them all, idle fantasies of what they might enjoy.
‘I like the look of that mortal ocean,’ Acheron says. ‘We could make that work with my river if we – My king.’
He scrambles to bow as Hades enters, all dark smoke and sweeping robes, framed by the glow of the hearth. The dozen other gods in the room rush to their feet too, only to nod their heads as he passes.
‘Forgive me for interrupting,’ he says, his voice buttery smooth in that way it always is when he addresses the court. He’s overly formal and I sit up straight, something tingling in my spine. ‘But I’m afraid I must steal the queen away.’
I cast a panicked look at him but he offers a slight reassuring smile and then he’s before me, standing at the base of theplinth. He looks up at me and takes my hand, brushing his lips against the skin like a promise of more to come.
‘My love,’ he greets me. ‘If I might have a moment of your time.’
‘Of course,’ I say. I sweep from the hall before he can do anything more than say a couple of lines and kiss my hand. Apparently that’s all it takes for my heart to race.
The other gods coo as we leave, Hermes’ voice rather distinct in uttering that we might consider getting a room.
‘What is it?’ I ask the second we’re out. It’s no more than we’ve been doing the last few weeks but my pining has reached such atrocious levels that I regularly stay up half the night wondering if his actions might actually mean something, hoping they aren’t just for show.
He grins slyly. ‘I haven’t seen you in a while.’
‘I saw you this morning.’
