The servants led her into the palace proper, through a maze of corridors and into a bathing room wreathed with steam. They divested her of her garments and proceeded to wash her from head to toe. Persephone started to shiver again when the steam caressed her naked body, until the chill of the underworld melted away, leaving only the warmth from the water.

The servants finished washing her and anointed her hair with scented oil. The fragrance of asphodels made bile rise in her throat, but she endured it. However, when a girl began to file away at the calluses on her feet, Persephone screamed.

“Don’t! How will I walk?”

“Pardon me, mistress, but it’s not becoming of your station.”

“I need them,” Persephone insisted, but despite her rank she was ignored. Two of the girls held her down, while the other two worked at her feet, scrubbing away at the worst of the calluses and then smearing on a thick ointment to protect the newly exposed skin.

Persephone screamed and sobbed until her voice was nothing more than a whisper. They were her anchor to the land, her way of feeling the health of the flora, of hearing the hidden language of the earth. She had climbed mountains, forded rivers with those feet.

Perhaps the servants were right. What good could bare feet do for her here, in this cold and sunless land, save to bring grief with each step?

Once the ordeal was over, the servants threw a tunic over her head and guided her to a darkened room and a soft bed. Despite her best intentions, Persephone was asleep before she heard the sound of a key turning in the door, locking her in her bedchamber.

5

THE GOWN

When Persephone next awoke, her head was light and her mouth dry, but her limbs seemed all intact, and she was no longer in danger of falling over her own two feet. She found herself resting upon a large bed, its frame bedecked with all kinds of jewels and precious inlays, covered by a layer of blankets and furs.

“Good morning, Mistress Persephone. How are you feeling?” asked a cheerful voice, not more than ten cubits away from her.

Persephone blinked, staring at the ceiling where painted scenes of swans chased each other through a midnight-blue sky. A light breeze brushed her face, though she could not imagine what might stir the air in the underworld. “Is there even morning here?”

The voice of her companion sounded closer this time. “Oh, yes. Our days and nights are the same. I hope very much that you will grow to like your new home.”