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Another man stepped forward before she asked, before she was ready to face another heinous crime. He held his head high like herself and her husband at her side, walking with a cocky bounce to each step.
A King.
“Tantalos.” The man wrapped an arm around his waist and bowed. “King of Lydia,” he said, smiling wide at Persephone, showing off bright white teeth and dimples in both cheeks. The lines around his mouth deepened, but he kept the smile plastered on, even as she stared him down. “Queen Persephone,” he mused as she stared, “who would have thought the young, spry little Goddess of Spring would end up marrying…” he gestured to Hades, unable, or more likely unwillingly, to describe the King of the Dead.
“Why are you here, Tantalos, former King of Lydia?”
His upper lip curled back at her addition to his title. “I fed the gods a meal they did not appreciate. For that, I have been sent to your lovely home before my time was up.”
“No,” Hades spat at the former king, “we do not often appreciate being fed the butchered remains of our host’s children.”
Persephone clenched her jaw as she tried to keep her face expressionless, wishing she could vomit over the edge onto the man.
Tantalos cringed at Hades’ accusation and snapped his eyes to Persephone again, and said, “The gods did not even send me here. These—these bird women,” he spat out, “attacked me and dragged me down here before any of the Olympians could smite me themselves,” he said, incredulous. “I have never seen these creatures before, Persephone, I think—”
He cut himself off, and clawed at his throat as he rose up from the ground to face Hades. Persephone realized a moment later that Hades had cut the man off, choking him and pulling him up here by his throat. He murmured something to him that she could not make out, his voice low and threatening. She caught her name once, but otherwise remained oblivious to their one-sided conversation.
Persephone swallowed, unable to look away from the furious scene beside her. Hades’ curls were wild and tangled in the wind howling around the two of them; his eyes gilded a ferocious gold in the light, full of promises of violence. Something in her core tightened, her own power flaring so close to his.
Fighting the urge to grab him and kiss him in a frenzy, Persephone shoved her hands under her and bit her lower lip.
As if he could hear her thoughts, Hades whipped his head toward her, his eyes staring into her own. Tantalos dropped to the ground hard as Hades’ concentration moved elsewhere. To her.
They stared at each, depth-less black eyes burning into warm, molten gold ones. Until they simultaneously tore their gazes forward, returning to the task at hand.
Hades cleared his throat. “Continue, Queen Persephone.”
She nodded once in acknowledgment, not daring to speak just yet, her throat thick.
“So I killed my son,” Tantalos said with nonchalance, his voice stable and sure. “I did it to give the gods a feast they were well deserving of. Is that not worth my freedom? My life?”
“No. It is not.” Persephone’s voice was cold. “Filicide is not a minuscule crime. Those creatures, as you called them, are the Erinyes, The Furies. And because of your blood guilt, because you spilled the blood of your children in committing your atrocious crime, they will plague your house forever.”
“Is that my judgment?” Tantalos asked, relief flooding from him, shoulders dropping an inch.
“Only a small piece of it. You will still be tortured in Tartaros. The Field of Asphodel is too mild a place for you.” Tantalos flinched a step back as if she had struck him, opening his mouth to object. Hades slammed it shut.
Looking toward her husband, Persephone said in a low, sultry voice, “Put him in a pool of crystal clear water, directly beneath a low hanging, fruit tree—I do not care which fruit.”
Hades scrunched his eyes, looking like he was about object so Persephone touched a finger to his lips. His breath was hot on her skin, leaving her fingers cold when he sucked in a sharp breath at her look.
“Every time he reaches down to drink, the water will recede just out of reach, and when his hunger grows and he reaches above to pluck a fruit, the tree will pull away just out of reach, as well,” she said, and let her finger fall, the nail dragging gently along the thin skin of his bottom lip and sinking into the black hair of his chin. He caught her hand as it fell, turning it over and kissing her open palm before smoothly placing it down on her lap, his fingertips brushing along the inside of her thigh.
They breathed in deep, shaky breaths, their eyes lingering on one another a breath longer before turning back to Tantalos.
“Enjoy eternity.” Persephone winked, and he was gone.
35
SECURITY AND SENSUALITY
Between one blink and the next, Persephone found herself standing in front of the palace, Hades at her side.
“I want to go back,” she said. “I wasn’t finished. Two souls is barely an introduction to my role as Queen.” She turned on her heel and walked half a step, foot suspended as Hades grabbed her by the hand, and pulled her back into him.
His arm wrapped around her waist, the other grazing along her upper back, holding her against him. As he dipped her toward the ground he kissed her softly, lips moving at a leisurely pace.
Persephone went rigid in his arms, placing her palms flat against his chest and pushing him away. He pulled his mouth from her, but his face remained close enough that the tips of their noses grazed each other with each inhale.
