“I’m fine,” Persephone said, trying to stand again.

Hades bit her lip and watched Persephone as she clutched a side table, leaning on it heavily. Persephone remained in that position for several moments, resting, before she summoned the strength to grope her way to a set of klinai, holding on to the walls and other furniture along the way.

She dropped down onto a kline, breathless with exhaustion. Hades followed and sat opposite.

“I’m fine,” Persephone said, glaring at her.

“As you say.”

Despite her words, Persephone had to rest for a few moments, her eyes closing. The urge to sleep was almost overwhelming, but she brushed it aside—she had been doing too much of that, it seemed. It was time to return to the real world.

“Who did you release from the underworld to be here this time?” she asked.

“No one. Your role as my consort has been accepted by the gods, and I am within my rights to visit you after your convalescence.” Hades’ gaze softened. “I have missed you.”

“And I you.”

Something unreadable passed across Hades’ face. “I confess, you surprise me.”

Persephone pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. The light was too bright here, again. She knew she would grow accustomed to it, but part of her felt a yearning for the cool gray and brown sky of the underworld and the way the mists rose over the rivers. “I’m full of surprises,” she mumbled and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Hades watched her with a concerned expression. “I brought you a gift, if you would permit me.”

“Is it another severed head? I can’t promise I won’t throw up.”

“I have murdered no demigods as of late. The administrative fallout was bad enough the last time.”

Persephone tried to summon her anger and failed. She couldn’t quite bring herself to make light of the events that had led to her flagellation, but neither could she continue to resent Hades for it. “As you like, then.”

Hades walked to the other side of the room for a moment, out of sight. Persephone watched dust motes dancing in a beam of sunlight. It seemed nice here. Epirus. She wondered what the soil was like outside and whether the hot, dry summers would wither all her fruit on the vine.

Hades returned and set down a pomegranate on the table between them. “Your grove has been faring well, despite your absence. But I sense that the land, too, misses you.”

Persephone looked at the fruit. Its skin was smooth and even, colored wine red. “If it’s been as long as you say, my trees must be tall now.”

“You could see for yourself, if you wished.” Hades took out her dagger and cut the pomegranate open, revealing its jewel-like interior. Each seed shone wetly, prettier than any ruby. Their facets caught the light, almost glowing.