‘Oh, I’m incredibly sad about it. No more task forces on the latest disease impacting the supply chain or panels on sustainable soul collecting, no more mediating their squabbles … Several annoying deities traded for the goddess of flowers?’ he teases. ‘Such a difficult trade.’
I shake my head. ‘You’re ridiculous.’
‘Is another man fawning over you too much for you to handle? Another man begging for your hand in marriage?’
‘Oh, not this again.’
‘Please be mine. Grace my halls with your presence forever –’
I’m laughing but my heart is galloping. ‘Well, maybe if you hadn’t been such a dick when I first got here …’
He places his hand on his heart and attempts to look pained. ‘Oh, what a fool I was –’
‘You look constipated.’
‘I’m trying to seduce you here!’
‘Try harder.’ I turn from him. I don’t think I’m blushing but I want to be sure. ‘Gods, I don’t remember you ever being in such high spirits.’
He shrugs and it’s back to that self-containment that I associate with him becoming serious again. ‘Your refusal of my proposal was of course quite the setback but, on the whole, these last few days have been nice.’ He hesitates. ‘You know, not having to hide parts of myself.’
I nod. I definitely understand that. ‘Yes, well, I was certainly never this bossy with my mother.’ We’re back on dangerous ground, so I race to continue. ‘It’s actually your painting I wanted to talk to you about.’
‘Oh?’
‘I’m still working out, well, a lot of all this …’
‘If crafting Hell were easy I’m sure Zeus would have already made a minor god do it and claimed the credit.’
‘True. Well, I’ve been talking to some of the humans and they describe things I’ve never seen: mountains so tall they could tear Olympus apart, lakes that stretch further than the eye can see, forests and villages and towns and waterfalls and snow so bright it’s blinding.’ An edge of longing creeps into my voice and I don’t realize until my throat tightens.
‘You could look in the Lake of the Five.’
‘It’s not the same. And anyway, well, I’ve got the flowers of paradise sorted but everything else? I have no idea. I can’t even picture it, really. I’m not artistic and I’ve been tasked with designing paradise.’
‘You tasked yourself, actually,’ Hades says pointedly.
Given I am asking him to do something for me, I can’t return his snark with more snark so I settle for ignoring that comment.
‘Will you do it? Sketch out an idea or paint some concepts?’
‘What do I know of human paradise?’ he says dismissively.
I won’t let him get away that easily. ‘I’ve seen the things you’ve made. I think you know a lot more about paradise than you let on. Otherwise what’s kept you going all these years?’
His shoulders freeze in rigid lines and I worry I’ve gone too far.
‘Very well,’ he finally says with a curt nod. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I shall go and make a start on your paradise.’
FOR THE NEXT FEW DAYSI flit around Hades like a nervous insect, too fearful of making contact. This longing feels like every bit of what the nymphs discussed so I recognize it for what it is: infatuation and nothing more. One does not fall in love in a few weeks, after all.
But I’m terrified of that infatuation growing.
My own feelings have become the enemy.
And, even though I’m doing my best to stamp it out, occasionally I permit myself to think of him while chewing on my lip, or I get lost in his eyes, or I lose an hour of sleep in anticipation of seeing him the next day. But thinking of softer moments – of what it would feel like to curl into his skin, to feel his breath on my neck, to talk until the small hours of the morning – that is a step too far. I have too much at stake to add emotions to the mix. Similarly, anything beyond the curiosity of his lips on mine is an absurdity. Picturing how we might build a life together – after mere weeks! – is more fantasy than anything the Muses could craft.
I blame his ridiculously well-tailored chiton and whichever god is responsible for cheekbones.
