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“However,” Aphrodite drawled the word out in a low sing-song voice, “he is most definitely physically attracted to you.”
“How do you know?”
Aphrodite cocked her head and raised an eyebrow at Persephone, who laughed out loud as she realized who she was talking to. Of course, Aphrodite would know.
The goddess winked and stepped back, the veil floating between them before falling to Aphrodite’s side. Suddenly the air was fresh in Persephone’s lungs, the suffocating floral scent of her disappearing as her head felt clearer.
She lurched back, her mouth dropping open at Aphrodite, who smiled innocently at her as Persephone’s eye narrowed.
“You knew what you felt, I just wanted to hear it.” Aphrodite shrugged. “It’s all about power,” she said with a wink, proud of herself for proving her previous point.
Persephone yanked the veil from Aphrodite’s hands and pointed to the open archway, silently telling the goddess to leave her alone and find her seat. Aphrodite kissed her on the cheek, wishing her luck as she walked inside.
As she passed through, the celebration songs began. Songs about weddings and marriage, the guests’ hopes for their future together.
Persephone rolled her eyes at their happy, hopeful voices. The songs themselves made her stomach knot and twist, her head swimming as the ground became unstable and lumpy at her feet. She stepped close to the wall, pressing her cheek against the cool stone to curb the nausea roiling through her body, filling her mouth with saliva.
When it subsided and she felt confident enough to stand without support again, Persephone stepped back to look at the arch again.
It was carved into the monstrous wall of stone that rose so high above her head that she was sure it would block out the sun if it shone this far below ground. Small rivers of gold and silver wound throughout the rock, interrupted only by chunks of raw and shining precious stones.
A shiny solid black rock made up one half of the arch, while a beautiful polished red stone made the other half; the apex where the two stones collided was rough and cracked from being forced together, then clearly smoothed out and polished so it shone as beautifully as the rest.
Hooves clumped behind her and a quiet whistle rang off the wall. Persephone stiffened at the sound, but forced her face to relax into a soft smile that she hoped was believable, as she turned to face the god riding toward her.
Hades tugged the four black horses to a stop just before they plowed into his bride. Persephone didn’t move as they got close, careful to not even flinch. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of getting a reaction from her on the same he intended to end her life.
She hadn’t expected him to be dressed in white instead of his typical black ensemble, and the sight was glorious. The contrast between his white garb, olive skin and dark hair was so beautiful that Persephone’s mouth dried up as she stared at him. His crown shining in the light pouring out of the arch before them.
Letting go of the reins with one hand, Hades held it out to help Persephone onto the golden chariot. She ignored his outstretched hand and reached for the edge of the chariot instead, pulling herself up and smiling triumphantly up at him. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing before ushering the horses forward again.
Persephone fumbled with the veil, muttering about how stupid she felt covered from head to toe. The deep purple cloth twisted around her waist and draped over her one shoulder was too tight, and her legs sweating beneath the floor-length bodice was distracting. Untangling the veil was impossible when she could she feel every bead of sweat forming along her covered skin.
Where was Demeter when she actually needed her?
Persephone groaned, frustrated with the uncooperative veil and the circumstances she found herself in, and threw the veil up in the air. She wasn’t going to wear it. It wasn’t a traditional ceremony anyway, and she wasn’t a traditional bride, so she didn’t need it. And wouldn’t wear it.
The chariot stopped moving, the horses standing at the entrance, their heads inches from being inside the arch. Persephone looked to Hades, opening her mouth to ask Hades why he had stopped, her heart filling with hope that he’d decided against the marriage after all. That he felt sorry for her, and no longer wanted to watch her suffer through being married to him for centuries.
But he only grabbed the veil from the air and shook it once, hard, straightening it and pulling it over her head so it covered her face and hair.
She did not thank him.
A crown appeared in his hands, identical to the one resting on his own head, and he gently placed it on top of the veil. The sudden weight of it, combined with the mass of hair it rested on, forced her to grab onto the edge of the chariot to steady herself. Her neck and back strained to keep her upright, the crown weighing her backwards as the chariot lurched forward again.
The arch was getting closer, so close if she reached out a hand she would have felt the smooth, cold stone as she dragged her fingers across it. She almost did, forgetting about the weight on her head and letting go of the chariot to do just that before staggering back and almost falling off backwards.
Luckily, Hades wrapped his arm around her middle as she teetered back, noticing how unsteady she was before she did, and kept her in position and on the chariot. He held her tightly against him so he could still reach the reins around her, and she was grateful.
Grateful to have someone, even Hades, to lean on as the singing got louder with every step and they crossed the threshold into the chamber and into the bright light within.
He let go as soon as they entered. They may have altered many of the customs, including entering together rather than having her father hand her off to Hades to symbolize her movement from being a child to becoming a wife, but they couldn’t be seen touching before the ceremony. It would only make people suspicious, and sully her reputation as a chaste bride.
Through the thin fabric of the veil, she could make out the torches lining the wide path they rode along, as well as the walls around them. The light they gave off was golden and bright, a few that dotted the walls were coloured in reds and pinks, giving the room a much happier feel than Persephone dared to expect upon entering.
The path itself was covered in flower petals, mostly grey asphodel, but drops of reds, yellows and blues jumped out at her as she gazed forward toward the dais.
Looking around, Persephone noticed the pomegranates carved into the walls and marble columns, smaller versions carved from gold and set onto the end of each aisle of seating. The necklace she wore, now hidden by the veil, matched the red carved fruits exactly – the same blooming red stone seeds encased in the clear quartz flesh.
