Behind Persephone’s mare, a trail of wildflowers bloomed, their shy heads marking the path they’d taken.

Demeter made a cutting gesture in the air, and as one the flowers bowed over, wilting on their stems.

Persephone gasped, clutching her hand to her chest. A chill ran over her skin. She’d never felt her gifts being overpowered by another’s, much less by her own mother’s.

“Don’t waste fruitful soil on flowers.”

“Have you restored the humans’ crops, then?” Persephone asked.

Demeter looked back at her over her shoulder. “The mortals will find me a merciful goddess, now that my prayers have been answered.”

If they both prayed to Gaia, why was Demeter so favored over her daughter? Would it always be that way?

They had traveled far enough that Persephone began to recognize the shape of the land around them. They were returning home indeed, to the estate where she’d been born and where she’d lived all her life, save for her brief time in the underworld.

This was what she’d wanted, what she’d begged from Hades. But each league felt more like defeat than victory.

Before long, she saw her mother’s house in the distance, surrounded by golden fields of grain. She’d kept her side of the bargain, at least. Hades would be pleased.

Hades would not be pleased once she’d heard of Hermes’ treachery.

“Our gracious home,” Demeter said. She dismounted, and the nymphs followed suit. “Persephone.”

Persephone wiped her palms on her knees and slid off her mare. She walked to her mother.

“Thank you, ladies, for your service,” Demeter said as the nymphs guided the horses away.

Persephone watched their backs retreating with a pang of loss. She hadn’t even learned their names. Not that it would have saved her.

“Come,” Demeter said and opened the back door.

Persephone followed her inside and closed the door softly behind her. The walls had been freshly painted, the smell nauseating. Otherwise, it looked much the same—warm and brightly lit with spacious, high ceilings. After the chill of Hades’ palace, it should have felt inviting.

“Sit,” Demeter said. “Eat with me.”

Persephone did as she was told. They dined together, a servant—Kallon—bringing them food and wine. When Persephone caught his eye, his smile for her was strained.

“Tell me everything,” Demeter said.

“There’s not much to tell,” Persephone said. “I’d rather hear about how you fared. You must have been so worried.”

Demeter’s mouth twisted into an ugly moue. “There’ll be time for that later. Let’s start with you.”