Near the wash table, another two servants were busy polishing jewelry, including an elaborate stephane. A young girl sat on the floor, tying the laces on a pair of sandals, the straps inlaid with more glittering jewels.

“What is all of this?” Persephone asked.

The girl with the sandals stood up. “Begging your pardon, mistress, but it’s for your nuptials—”

The other women all gasped in unison. The girl clasped her hands over her mouth, the sound of the sandals hitting the floor like a slap in the face.

“I beg your pardon?” Persephone grabbed the edge of the door frame, fighting a sudden burst of vertigo.

Xenia slid into the room beside her. “Out, you lot.”

One by one, the servants trudged out, the young girl giving Xenia a terrified look before she too shuffled away.

When they were all gone, Persephone closed her eyes for a moment, counting petals in her head. The dizziness eased a little. She walked to the bed and poked at the chiton. The fabric dimpled, catching the light like the flash of a carp’s belly.

Prior to that moment, Persephone had assumed that Hades wanted what all the other gods wanted from a young maiden—a fleeting pleasure to be taken and just as quickly forgotten. That would have been terrible enough, true, but as soon as Hades tired of her, she would have been able to return to the surface and see the sun once more.

This chiton, though? These jewels, the stephane?

A wedding would bind her for eternity, no matter if their marriage was happy or not. Zeus could not free himself of Hera, as powerful as he was. If they wed, how would Persephone ever be free of Hades?

She began to cry, shedding tears that she could not afford to lose. She could not stay here forever; she simply could not. Reign in the underworld and never see the sun again? Never dance barefoot over dew-kissed grass, never frolic in the streams of sweet water so crisp and clear that one could count every pebble in the riverbed?

Xenia walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Please, don’t be frightened. She may seem cruel, but she is a just ruler.”

Persephone had forgotten about Xenia’s presence. She shook herself free of the woman’s touch and straightened to her full height, raising her arm and pointing at the door. “Get out.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Xenia hurried out. As soon as the door closed behind her, Persephone picked up an amphora and threw it, the jar shattering into thousands of pieces as it hit the wall. She fell to her knees, cradling her head in her hands.

“Demeter, Mother, Bringer of Plenty, Heart of the Harvest, can you hear me? Am I too far from your gaze?”