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Her words echoed in his head, bitter and angry and…truthful. She was right.
He was ruthless.
The evidence was all around him, and he saw it now, standing in his palace garden, surrounded by beautiful flowers and lush trees.It was in the illusion of beauty he maintained, in the charities he supported, in the bargains he made. It was his attempt to erase the shame he had felt at who he once was—merciless, heartless, suspicious.
“Why are you moping?” Hecate’s voice came from behind him.
“I am not moping,” Hades said, turning to face the goddess. Cerberus, Typhon, and Orthrus sat obediently at her feet. She wore sleeveless robes, crimson in color, and she had wrangled her long, thick hair into a braid.
Hecate arched her brow.“It looks like you are moping.”
“I am thinking,” he said.
“About Persephone?”
Hades did not respond immediately. Finally, he said,“She thinks I am cruel.”
He explained what had transpired in the throne room, recognizing his tendency toward bargaining—this for that—not compromise. Persephone had been right—he could have offered Orpheus a glimpse of Eurydice in the Underworld. Perhaps he would have learned, then, why the mortal felt such guilt at her passing.
“She did not say you were ruthless for the reasons you think,” Hecate said.
The god met her dark-eyed gaze.“What do you mean?”
“Persephone has hope for love, just as you, Hades, and instead of confirming that, you mocked her. Passion does not require love? What were you thinking?”
Hades’ face felt warm, and he scowled. He hatedfeeling, especially embarrassment.
“She’s…frustrating!”
“You’re no walk in the park, either.” Hecate leveled her stare.
“Says the witch who uses poison to solve all her problems,” Hades grumbled.
“It’s far more effective than moping.”
“I am not moping!” Hades snapped and then sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.“I’m sorry, Hecate.”
She offered him a half-smile.“Tell me what you fear, Hades.”
It took him a moment to find the words, because he did not really know himself.
“That she is right,” he said.“That she will see no more within me than her mother.”
“Well, lucky for you, Persephone is not her mother. A truth that is just as important for you to remember.”
He supposed it was just as unfair to keep comparing her to Demeter as it was for Persephone to compare him to Demeter’s words, but there was a part of him that wondered why he agonized. It was just a matter of time before the Fates took their scissors to these threads that held them entwined.
“If you want her to understand, you must share more.”
“And give her more fodder for the articles she wants to write? I think not.”
He was still frustrated by her visit to Nevernight, only to discover she was there to accuse him of destroying mortal lives.
Hecate raised a brow.“I have never known you to care what other people think, Hades.”
And now he knew why he never bothered before—because caring was a nuisance.
“She is to be my wife,” Hades said.
