AllFreeNovel
Share Us
More pomegranate carvings were hidden throughout the room, and on her person. She wore a golden bracelet with tiny droplets of red stones to represent the seeds and fertility, and there were small ones carved from gold and silver lining the edge of the stairs up to the dais. The fruit’s seeds littered the ground, sticky red juice bursting with every step of the horses and spin of the chariot’s wheels.
Persephone faced forward again, ignoring the urge to scan the faces of the guests. She could tell her mother sat near the front, her bright hair piled high in an elaborate braid, no unlike Persephone’s. Beside Demeter sat Aphrodite whose equally bright hair was draped over the back of her chair, small birds and flowers wrapped within the strands.
She hadn’t realized they had reached the end of the path or that the chariot had ceased moving until Hades’ warm hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her from the chariot. His face was blank as she looked up at him, carefully stepping down from the chariot, trying to meet his eye. If he knew how sick she was feeling, maybe he would stop the wedding.
But he did not look at her. Expertly avoiding her eyes as he helped her down and led her to the dais.
Quickly, she bunched her skirts in ones hand, pulling the fabric of the dress tight just as Demeter had demonstrated that morning. She could already hear her mother scolding her for forgetting such an important detail until the last possible moment, despite Persephone finding the gesture completely unnecessary and archaic. It seemed obvious to her that she was ready to be a woman and a wife without needing to display the curve of her hips.
Hades walked her around the horses and up the steps, letting go of her when they were high on the dais before their guests, the large ceremonial hearth lit beside them.
The singing did not cease throughout the ceremony. Not when Melia handed Persephone the small wooden horse she had kept from her childhood for this moment, dedicating it to Artemis as she tossed it into the hearth and listened to it burn. Nor when Elektra brought the newly forged knife to cut a lock of Persephone’s hair, hidden from sight by Hades who threw a small black cloud around them to do it, thrown into the flames to honor Athena and Hera.
Through it all the singing continued, slowly building to a raucous of shouting and singing and music. Persephone’s ears ringing as the merriment of the crowd grew with every passing second, soon drowned out by the blood rushing through her ears.
She looked at Hades, solemn as ever, not a ghost of a smile on his lips. Each time she had looked at him, he was looking elsewhere, anywhere but at her; now he was looking right at her. He raised his eyebrows and flashed his eyes at her quickly, clearly happy with the way their deal was panning out. She glared at him for gloating.
One moment she was glaring at Hades, unable to hear the words spilling from everyone’s mouths, and the next Zeus was standing on the steps clasping Hades’ hand in congratulations. Her father gestured to her, saying something she couldn’t quite catch about removing her veil, the words all twisted and jumbled in her ears. Hades shook his head once, saying something about them being alone. She tried not cringe at the thought of being alone with him, hoping she had misheard through the ringing still plaguing her ears.
Then she was being led by the wrist back down the sticky, beautifully decorated path, toward the daunting arch she now realized represented them. The black shining the same light-sucking shade as Hades’ silky hair and brilliant eyes; the red polished and identical to the colour of the pomegranates littering the floor and her body to represent herself, as a marriageable, fertile wife.
She didn’t try to hide her cringe as she stared at her own side of the arch, roughly cut and forced into a new form with Hades’ own side.
More pomegranate seeds rained down on their heads, accompanied by nuts and dried fruits and bread. Persephone laughed – actually laughed with joy – as they hit her and bounced off, tumbling to the ground.
Hades turned to her at the sound, his face contorted with confusion at the sound of her laughing – a happy, singing sound.
The gods continued pouring small bits of food over their head until they were forced to run the rest of the way out of the chamber, chased closely by their loud singing guests.
As they crossed under the arch, torches lit up on either side of them, winding around to the front of the palace. Persephone hadn’t known where they were before, the realm was blanketed in a dark fog when they had arrived just outside the wedding chamber. Now, she could see the silver rose garden to their right, the flowers tinted in the orange glow of the torches.
Still grasping her by the wrist, Hades led her down the flaming aisle. Their guests following closely behind, marveling aloud to each other at the gilded dark palace rising before them.
The procession grew louder the closer they got to the front of the palace. The crowd behind Persephone and Hades was merry and excited, lifting torches from the ground and heaving them in the air; dancing and singing and music and shouting at their backs.
Only the bride and groom wore grim expressions.
Persephone’s mind was silent as she let Hades lead her down the lit path. The ringing in her ears had barely subsided, and she was too anxious for what was about to happen to think clearly – to think at all.
They walked in silence, Hades dragging her along by the wrist. The lively procession still following close and singing blessings for the couple until they reached the bridal chamber.
Hades flung open the heavy wooden door and pulled Persephone inside after him, the singing trailing behind her, louder than ever.
15
THE BRIDAL CHAMBER
The room was dark, the hearth in the corner the only source of light, but Persephone managed to make out the saffron-dyed canopy suspended over the large bed in the center of the room. A mound of blankets covered it.
The bed.
There was only one large bed in this room.
Hades would have to sleep elsewhere, the palace certainly had many free beds for him to choose from, but Persephone had expected a second bed in this room. It was ideal, so the guests who remained outside the door wouldn’t know whether they shared a bed or not.
Not that Hades cared what their guests thought. Not of himself, and certainly not of her.
Her hands started sweating as she removed the crown and gingerly placed it on the dressing table, being careful not to let it slip through her slick fingers.
