“Which one were you?”

Xenia simply smiled at her. “I must have done something good, to have the privilege to serve our queen.”

The Asphodel Fields were not entirely filled with asphodel, but the scent surrounded them nevertheless. Persephone asked Xenia to halt the chariot and stepped out to pick a handful of flowers. They grew larger here than they had above ground, each petal the length of her forefinger. Like the cut asphodel she’d found at Demeter’s house, these plants would not respond to her touch, nor her silent commands. Persephone looked around at the grasses and shrubs, the mosses and trees. When she closed her eyes, she felt nothing. That void frightened her more than the hound, more than the distant shrieking of the dead.

When she’d finished her examination of the local plant life, she looked up to see a small group of mortals had gathered around. Several families clustered a respectful distance away from the chariot, the children clinging to their mothers and staring at her with wide, unblinking eyes.

“We must press on,” Xenia said. “Our schedule—”

“No,” Persephone said. She approached the humans, who shuffled themselves in a semicircle around her. “Good morning. Is there something you need?”

One of the women dropped to her knees, and the others soon followed suit. “Begging your pardon, but it ain’t often we get visitors such as yourself. It’d be the greatest honor if you could bless our little ones.”

She was more used to blessing food crops, but she assumed that children would be little different. “Very well.”

The woman beamed and ushered her children forward, two boys and a girl. Persephone passed her hand over each of their heads in turn. She murmured a brief request to Gaia, the all-nurturing earth that supported them even now, deep within her core, to ensure that their afterlife was full of peaceful days and free from strife. She repeated the gesture with the other children, then the adults, as she could hear their unvoiced request even though they were too nervous to ask more from her.

When that was finished, the people fell to their knees once more and praised her, their children trying to follow along as best they could. The sight unsettled her, and it took her a moment to realize why.

Above ground, she had always received the respect due to her as a goddess, but it had been in her role as Demeter’s daughter. It was Demeter who led the harvest, who taught the people how to feed themselves. Persephone was beloved, yes, but only as part of Demeter’s retinue.

Was this any different? Here, she was afforded the highest courtesy not for herself but as Hades’ guest. Did she have anything within her that was worthy of reverence, in and of itself?