Hades pushed her chair back and stood, walking over to her. She took Persephone’s chin in her hand, redirecting her gaze. “Name me, Persephone.”

She made herself look into Hades’ eyes, which were as black as Erebus. “Hades, Queen of the Underworld, daughter of Kronos and Rhea.”

“And?”

“And my wife,” Persephone said in a whisper.

“And?”

“My abductor, and my defiler!”

Hades released her.

Persephone fell to her knees, her arms outstretched before her. “Please, my queen, I beg of you, don’t keep me here. Don’t confine me in this sunless land, this starless night. I will be your wife in name—your courtesan—your slave—but please, please! I can’t bear it here. I can’t,” she sobbed, her voice choking up with tears.

Hades was silent for some time. When at last she spoke, her voice held all the sorrow of the Vale of Mourning. “Then you must learn to suffer well, my sweet Persephone.”

Persephone pressed her forehead against the floor and cried, wondering if she would ever feel the earth beneath her feet once more. Her soul ached for the touch of overworld soil, for the heat of the sun across her back.

“I cannot say that I regret my actions,” Hades said, far above her. “But I have done you harm. I could not wait for you to love me. It is not the way of the gods.”

Persephone rocked back on her heels and wiped a hand across her face. “You’re not a god.”

“No,” Hades said bitterly. “I fall under greater scrutiny. People expect more and are less forgiving.” Her voice softened. “I cannot show mercy, not even to you. They would consume me if they knew.”

“Knew what?”

Hades knelt beside her and covered Persephone’s hand with her own. “How precious you are to me.”

Persephone drew her hand back and wrapped her arms around herself.

Hades stood, the dark folds of her chiton sighing around her. “I will not ask for your forgiveness, nor your understanding. Believe what you may, but I never wished for you to suffer.”

As an apology, it wasn’t much, but it was more than what another god might have offered her. She hadn’t been taught to expect any more.

“You hurt me,” Persephone whispered.

“I know.”

Was it always to be like this, her on her knees, Hades above her, somewhere in the periphery of her vision? Would she always feel this hollow inside?

Hades sat on the end of the bed, the frame creaking under her weight. She steepled her fingers, pressing her lips to them before glancing up. “I will grant you a favor, as my penance. I relinquish my marital rights; I will not force you into our marriage bed. If you wish to join with me, it will be of your own choosing.”

Persephone turned her head so that she could see Hades through her tears. “And if that time never comes?”