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Shit.
I threw the covers off, but it didn't help.
I was burning hot, and unfortunately it was all for the wrong reasons.
Two words, guys: Hot. Flashes.
I hurriedly Googled what to do. Hormone therapy was out, and so was lowering the room temp. Hadrian's bedroom might be fit for royalty, but we also happened to be in Hell and not Hokkaido or Helsinki.
Sipping cold drinks didn't work either, but after a couple more trials by error, I eventually struck gold with meditation.
As instructed, I imagined myself floating in a sea of calmness.
Calm.
I'm so calm.
So, so calm I don't even know how to spell stress.
Like, how many S does it even have?
Four? Ten?
Who knew?
Maybe you did, but I don't.
Because I'm calm.
And I was...until I woke up and received my first copy of Underworld Times.
NEW LADY OF THE UNDERWORLD HAD GOD OF MEDICINE ON CALL
AT FIRST SIGN OF TROUBLE!
Chapter Six
"This is unbelievable," I bemoaned to an indifferent and still-irritatingly-lovely Mira in her laboratory after breakfast. "They also had a super scary article on a Category 4 hurricane about to hit New England and how the wind gods are barely holding up against Zeus. That write-up should've been on the front page—-"
"It would've been," Mira agreed, "if the residents of the Underworld thought there was a chance we'd be similarly affected. But since Hades has personally assured everyone we're safe, the news needs something more sensational..."
"You're going to say something bad again, aren't you?"
"Like the fact that you're a failure as a queen—-"
"But I'm not a failure."
Mira only stared at me.
"Seriously, I'm not."
"If they compare you to Persephone," she pointed out, "you will always come up inferior—-"
I shot her an indignant look. "Just because I wasn't born a goddess?"
"Plus the fact that she plays the piano, guitar, violin, flute, and harp, is a champion in archery, tennis, polo, swimming, ballroom dancing, chess, jiu-jitsu—-"
"Does she speak Dothraki?" I challenged.
"No, she doesn't, but Persephone does speak 71 other languages—-"
"Next topic please."
"She made Hades court her for four decades—-"
"News flash, cousin of my boyfriend: if I made Hadrian court me for the same length of time, I'd be six feet underground by the time we have our first date—-"
"So many excuses," Mira sniped.
"It's called being human," I sniped back.
"In our world, we call that a defect." She brightened. "Shall we talk about that instead? You have so many horribly defective traits—-"
"No, Mira. We shan't."
"Then there's nothing else I care to talk about with you." Mira turned back to her test tubes, and I almost smiled. It was nice to know Mira had a sense of humor as long as she was dissing me. Unfortunate talent, but at least I could be sure I'd never be bored while hanging with her.
I watched Hadrian's cousin insert a slide under a microscope, thinking how she had such an air of clever competence it almost seemed unbelievable that she hadn't been able to properly secure her lab.
Or maybe it was just the lab coat, and she wasn't really that smart? Who knew? Who cared? Point was, we were both in the same boat, with Mira having a thief to catch while I had a little snitch to unmask, not just for doing a hatchet job on my reputation but also for forcing me to lie to Hadrian.
The Lord of the Underworld had called me earlier - landlines still existed here, imagine - and because I knew how worried he was, I had denied reading today's paper and practically earned myself an Oscar, just convincing him that everything was peachy, and he had no need to come back and check on me.
A sigh of frustration slipped past my lips. I hated lying to Hadrian, but I had no choice, and it was all that snitch's fault.
There has to be something I can do...
I impatiently drummed my fingers on the dissection table and ignored the nasty look Hadrian's lab-coat-wearing cousin threw my way.
"I'm betting Persephone had a hand with this."
Mira didn't even bother pretending she cared to listen now, but menopause had given me thicker skin than usual, so I went on ranting.
"I mean, it has to be someone on the surface who fed the news to the Underworld Times, and she's the only non-human I can think of who'd have reason to hate me—-"
"Oh, you'd be surprised," she muttered under her breath.
I turned to Mira, asking, "What was that?"
"Nothing."
"Ha! I was kidding, you know. I totally heard you—-"
"I was kidding, too," Mira answered without glancing up from her microscope, "because I wanted you to hear it."
"Mira," I wheedled, "come on. You're Hadrian's cousin. You're blood-bound to help—-"
"Okay, fine." Mira finally swung her seat around. "How exactly do you want me to help?"
"I just don't want Hadrian's subjects to start disrespecting him because of me—-"
Mira cut me off, asking, "Did Hades ever tell you that the Underworld Times wrote about you before?"
