She cut through the dining hall and made her way into the kitchen. She’d never been in this part of the palace before. Hades always had food brought to them at the dining table or the library, the office or the bedroom.

Turning on the light, she found a modern and spotless kitchen. The cabinets were white, the countertops black marble, and the appliances stainless steel. She shuffled over the cold floor and began to search the cupboards for supplies, finding pans, mixing bowls and utensils.

That was the easy part.

The hardest part was finding the ingredients to bake something.

Anything.

She ended up gathering enough ingredients to make a simple vanilla cake and icing. It took her a few minutes to figure out how the stove worked. The one she used in her apartment was much older and had knobs not buttons.

Once the oven was preheating, she set to work, focusing on her task. There was something relaxing about baking. Maybe she liked it so much because it felt like alchemy, measuring each ingredient to perfection, creating something that would bewitch the senses.

Not to mention that the act always took her mind off things, but as soon as she popped her cake into the oven, an overwhelming sense of dread stole her breath. Frantic to stop it, she started to clean. Even though Hades’ kitchen had a dishwasher, she scrubbed every item by hand, rinsed, dried, and replaced them in the cupboards. After that, she focused on cleaning the stainless steel she’d smeared with her fingerprints.

By the time she was finished, the only indication anyone had used the kitchen was the smell of her cake baking.

The timer on the oven still showed she had fifteen more minutes. Fifteen minutes to be alone with her agonizing thoughts.

She turned on her music, hoping it would provide the distraction she needed. She clicked through the first few songs, their timbre dark and cold. Those songs reminded her of Lexa, the lyrics tangled with her thoughts and drudging up memories she didn’t want to recall. The longer she clicked through each song, the more she realized that it didn’t matter how the music sounded, it all reminded her of Lexa.

She turned it off, suddenly feeling exhausted. Her eyes were gritty, and her limbs were heavy. She sank to the floor; her body illuminated by the oven light, and drew her knees to her chest.

“Couldn’t sleep?” The sound of Hades voice made her jump. She swung around to find him leaning in the doorway, thick arms crossed over his bare chest. A tunic hung low on his waist and his hair pooled in dark layers around his face. He looked sleepy and beautiful.

“No,” she said. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“You didn’t wake me,” he said. “Your absence did.”

“I’m sorry.”

He smiled a little. “Don’t be—especially if it means you are baking.”