And every night she was greeted with dreams that left her aching in the morning. Dreams of home, her mother, Ranya, the adventures they would never have.

Eventually boredom gave way to annoyance. She had come here with a purpose, and it was her duty to see it through. She couldn’t do that if Hades was avoiding her.

When her mehndi was mostly faded, she finally found Hades sitting in the dining room where Parvani liked to take her meals. It had an open wall framed by arches that oversaw the valley below. The sky was pearlescent, giving everything a monochrome look, but the lanterns inside provided much-needed color.

Hades sat at the head of the table, hands folded in her lap. She wore a demure black dress with long sleeves that tapered into gloves that covered only her palms. Her antlered crown was perched on her head of dark hair, which fell in hypnotizing waves.

Hades looked up when Parvani entered. She didn’t say anything—just sat there and watched her with those steady agate eyes.

Parvani bit the inside of her cheek and sat on the opposite end of the table. Her plate was already filled with the things she loved: spinach and potato pastries with pomegranate chutney, chewy flatbread smothered in butter and garlic, chicken in a rich, milky sauce studded with peas. Mint tea had been poured for her, as well as a glass of garnet-colored wine.

They were silent a moment. Then Hades began to nibble on some flatbread, and Parvani laughed. Hades lifted one perfectly arched eyebrow.

“Sorry,” Parvani blurted. “I just . . . didn’t know you ate.”

Hades put the piece of flatbread down. “I don’t have to. I like to, though.”

“Oh.” Now feeling guilty that she’d made her self-conscious—was it possible for a god to feel self-conscious?—Parvani took a long sip of wine and began to eat her own food.

It was delicious. It was always delicious here.

The silence turned heavy, a storm cloud about to shed its rain. Parvani swallowed more wine and peered at Hades through her lashes.

She couldn’t afford Hades running off again. She needed a strategy.

You know what to do.

“I’m sorry,” Parvani said softly. “About how I reacted that night. I’ve never . . .”

Hades inclined her head knowingly.

“I’d like to, though,” Parvani went on, her voice a little high in her ears. She swallowed, getting up from her seat. Hades tracked her movements with her eyes, hands still folded in her lap as she came closer. “I would.”

Parvani reached out an unsteady hand and touched the side of the god’s face. It was smooth, soft, a surprising contrast to something deadly, like the bone knife in her hand had felt.

You know what to do.

Framing the god’s face with her hands, she leaned down to kiss her.