“I cannot move as freely as my brothers.” Hades stepped away from the window, pacing across the floor. “It was the only way they would allow a goddess to rule,” she said with venom in her voice. “Did you think I chose this fate? To be feared by gods and mortals alike, to be loathed for the judgments I am duty-bound to make?”

Persephone shrank back from Hades’ anger, even though she knew she was not its target.

Hades took a breath and continued, more quietly. “I expose myself beneath Zeus’s sky for only three reasons: when performing my duties, by invitation, or by negotiation.”

“But when you took me—the cave—”

“That place was liminal, in neutral territory. There are many such spaces, some beneath the depths of the ocean, others scattered high and low.” Hades looked at her sideways. “It was fate that brought you there to me.”

Fate? No, no; it was a coincidence. Wasn’t it? First Demeter’s fields rejecting her, then the narcissus. She should’ve known it wasn’t right; should’ve felt... something.

Hades glanced at the burning stumps of the candles. “The evening grows late, and you must rest.” She waved her hand in a clear dismissal.

She was leaving her alone? Truly? Persephone gaped, but it seemed Hades had no more use for her that night. Hades turned her back on her, sitting down at her writing desk and dipping her pen into ink.

Persephone rose from her knees and fled.

16

JUDGMENT

She planted herself above Hades, her hair unbound, the ends trailing over Hades’ collarbone. Hades’ face was free from sorrow; her lips curved into a smile, her eyes soft and heavy-lidded.

Persephone traced the outline of Hades’ lips with her fingertips. Hades kissed her fingers, then drew them into her warm, wet mouth.

Persephone giggled.

A knocking at the door made her draw back. She pulled a sheet over her naked chest and turned towards the interloper.

“Mistress! You must rise, else you’ll be late!”

Persephone opened her eyes with a sharp intake of breath. She looked up to find Xenia throwing back the shutters, welcoming in the weak morning light.

It was too early to be woken like this. She looked down to see she was still partially dressed from the previous night. Her skin was clammy, and an unpleasant warmth lingered between her thighs. Was she so depraved as to desire Hades’ touch after two nights without it?

“Queen Hades has asked you to join her in the throne room,” Xenia said. She reached into a storage chest and pulled out a chiton, belt, and sandals. “You must hurry!”

There was no time for elaborate hairstyles. Persephone undid the loose braid she’d slept in, finger-combed her hair and re-braided it whilst Xenia slipped the sandals on her feet. She changed quickly and then was ushered out the door, still fumbling with the fibula that was meant to fasten her chiton’s left shoulder.