by Aimée Carter
I nodded, and something about hearing her voice and feeling her familiar presence made that dam inside me snap. I broke into rough sobs, clutching her as hard as I could. I wouldn’t let her go again, not for anything.
Somehow Mother managed to guide me to her bed, and together we sank down. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” She tried to pull away, but I held on. “Surely it wasn’t that bad.”
But it was. I couldn’t explain it to her—I couldn’t even explain it to myself—but in that moment, I would’ve rather faded for eternity than go back to the Underworld with Hades. I didn’t belong there. We didn’t belong together, and it was all a mistake—a stupid mistake that Mother could fix.
“Please,” I gasped between sobs. “Don’t make me go back there.”
Her arms tightened around me. “What happened? Darling, if you don’t tell me, I can’t help you.”
I opened my mouth to try to find the words, but before I could say a single one—
“Persephone?”
I looked up, my lower lip trembling. “Father?”
Zeus stepped into the room, his brow knit and mouth turned downward. Father or not, I’d never spent much time with him beyond what little bonding assuaged his guilt. But I would’ve taken his awkward hugs and nasty temper a thousand times over before I went back to Hades.
“Persephone, your husband is waiting for you in the throne room,” he admonished. “He’s quite worried.”
I sniffed, refusing to lessen my grip on Mother. “I can’t go back there. I can’t breathe.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a goddess. You don’t need to breathe,” said Zeus. “Now, explain to me what this tantrum of yours is all about.”
“Zeus,” said Mother in a warning tone, but he didn’t budge. He stared at me, his blue eyes stormy and his arms crossed over his broad chest. I’d never been afraid of him before, but tension crackled in the air sure as lightning. One wrong word, and daughter or not, he’d treat me like a traitor.
“I can’t—” I hiccupped. “The rock’s too heavy, and—Hades, we—” My face grew hot. “Please don’t make me go back.”
“You have no choice in the matter,” said Zeus. “You are Queen of the Underworld now, and that is not a crown you can give up.”
“I don’t care, just—please. I’ll do anything,” I begged. “I can’t go back.”
Mother sighed. “You’ve been there all of one night. Things will get easier. I know it’s a change from Olympus—”
“Have you ever spent the night down there?” I said, and she hesitated.
“No, but—”
“I can’t, Mother. Please.”
She frowned and shared a look with Zeus. “Your father’s right. You’re Queen, and like it or not, that is not a role you can relinquish. Regardless of your marriage, Hades needs your help ruling, and you’ve already made a commitment. You cannot back out of it no matter how different it is from your expectations.”
My entire body felt as if it had turned to stone. I’d expected opposition from Zeus, of course. He was never agreeable about anything. But my own mother…
“You don’t understand.” I pulled away and stood on trembling legs. “It’s not natural down there. It’s—cold and dark and twisted, and I can’t breathe—”
“Again with the breathing,” said Zeus, and Mother shushed him.
“—and I don’t love him, Mother. I can’t spend my life down there.”
“Love?” Her confused expression morphed into a sympathetic one, and humiliation coursed through me. I didn’t want her pity. I wanted her understanding. “Persephone, love has very little to do with it. Hades loves you, of course, but your love for him won’t come immediately. You must give it time.”
“But how can I love something completely unlovable?” My voice broke, and I wiped my cheeks angrily.
“You can, and eventually you will. In many ways, Hades is the most loving of us all,” said Mother. “Do not be fooled by his dark kingdom. There is beauty in it, and despite a difficult night, things will get easier. Happiness is a choice—”
“And I choose not to be.” The words came out as a broken sob. “You’re going to do this to me? You’re going to damn your only daughter to a life down there with him?”
Mother faltered. “Sweetheart, please. Tell me what brought this on.”
But I couldn’t. I didn’t know what specific thing was behind the wall of hatred and anger inside me. I didn’t know what made me want to run, but that didn’t make it any less real. “He just—” I shook my head. “It isn’t right.”
“Take it one step at a time,” said Mother in what she must’ve meant to be a soothing voice, but it made me shudder. “If you didn’t enjoy consummating your marriage, that’s natural. The first time is almost never—”
“It isn’t about that.”
“Then what is it about?” She reached for me, but I stepped back. My entire body trembled so badly that I had to struggle to stay upright. It was as if I was fighting an invisible force just by being in the room, and I didn’t know how to stop it.
“I just—I don’t belong there. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
Mother and Zeus exchanged another look, and Zeus cleared his throat. “You will return to the Underworld with Hades, and you will obey him as you would obey me. He is your husband now, and you will not dishonor me by evading your duties. Do you understand?”
My eyes watered until I couldn’t make out his features. But I knew that voice—it was the voice of a king, the one he used when we had absolutely no choice. The voice he’d used to tell me I’d be marrying Hades on my sixteenth birthday no matter how I felt about it.
I couldn’t respond. Every time I opened my mouth, that wall of hatred and resentment was there, and finally I dashed past him and fled the room. I couldn’t do this no matter how often he threatened me, and the fact that he and Mother refused to so much as consider my feelings—it wasn’t fair. I needed to get away from that unyielding revulsion. I needed to get away from my life.
As I ran down the hallway, I nearly barreled headfirst into Hera. Had she been there the entire time? Our eyes locked, and she opened her mouth to say something, but I regained my footing and rushed past her. I didn’t care if she’d overheard. I didn’t care if she empathized with being trapped in a loveless marriage. There was nothing she could possibly say or do to change my parents’ minds, and I didn’t need pity. I needed an escape.
At last I made it to the throne room. A few feet from the portal, Hades waited with Hermes, who wore a bewildered expression. As I stumbled onto the crystal circle, Hades moved to join me, but Hermes darted in front of him, blocking his way. Whatever his reason was, I didn’t have time to find out. I dropped from Olympus, the wind rushing through my hair and whipping it across my face.
Freedom. And free-falling, apparently. I’d never used a portal by myself, and I opened my mouth in a silent scream. So maybe not waiting for Hades hadn’t been the best idea, but I would’ve rather plummeted to earth than let him join me.
I expected a crash landing, the sort that would leave an indentation in the ground for curious mortals to ponder, but as my feet touched the earth, I stopped. No hard landing. No real impact. I didn’t even leave footprints on the grass.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I ran my fingers through my tangled hair and looked around. I stood in a meadow full of purple flowers that danced in the breeze, and it was warm despite the late hour of wherever it was I’d landed. A beautiful summer evening.
Why couldn’t Hades live on the surface? Why did he have to be near his subjects at all times? Zeus certainly wasn’t. I sat down heavily in the middle of the field, passing my hand through the tall grass. This was my home, surrounded by warmth and nature and life. Not encased in stone.
The wind picked up for a moment, and something rustled behind me. Hades, no doubt, coming to reclaim me and drag me back to that dark place. I refused to turn around. He couldn’t have me, not anymore.
“Persephone?”
I exhaled. Not Hades. “Hermes? What are you doing here?”
“You’re upset,” he said as he moved to sit in front of me. We’d grown up together, babies compared to the rest of the council, and seeing him now made me more homesick than ever. “Did Hades hurt you?”
He was the first person to acknowledge that maybe this wasn’t my fault, and my heart swelled in gratitude. “N-no.” I hiccupped. “I just—I can’t go back.”
He took my hands, his fingers smooth and cool. That small gesture of affection was enough to make me break down all over again, and I rested my head on his shoulder as I cried. I hated feeling like this—I hated not having the courage to give Hades a chance. But it wasn’t him. It was the feeling of being suffocated, smothered, burned out before I’d had the chance to live. Why hadn’t I questioned my parents earlier? Why hadn’t I demanded a chance to get to know Hades and the Underworld better? Why hadn’t they given me a choice?
Because they’d known what I would say if they had. They must have. Mother knew me better than I knew myself, and my trust in her—the same trust that had made me take the plunge into this marriage—was too absolute for me to question it before. Even now I second-guessed myself. Was I being hasty? Should I give Hades a chance? Did I even have a choice?
No, and that only made me cry harder. I didn’t have a choice. Whether I liked it or not, I would have to return to the Underworld. Unless—
My eyes flew open, and I sat up. Hermes straightened as well, but I spoke before he could utter a word. “Run away with me.”
His lips formed a perfect circle. “What?”
“You heard me. Run away with me. We can go someplace they’ll never find us, like Aphrodite and Ares did, and—and we can be happy.”
“Wait.” He pulled away from me. “You mean you want—you and me—”
I shivered. After last night, I never wanted to have that sort of relationship with anyone ever again. “No, I mean—as friends. Brother and sister, whatever we are.” We weren’t, technically, since Zeus had taken different forms to father us and we had different mothers. But I needed someone else to love me. I didn’t care what kind of love it was, as long as it meant I could get away from Hades. “Please.”
Hermes hesitated, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. Hope blossomed inside my chest, pushing aside the coldness and despair. He was considering it. He was really considering it.
“Persephone…” He took my hands in his again. “You know I want nothing more than to see you happy, but Zeus already forbade anyone from interfering with your marriage. If we left, Zeus and Hades would both hunt us down, and I’d get a lightning bolt to the skull for sure.”
My heart sank, and that delicate bubble of hope deflated. “He really ordered everyone not to help me?”
Hermes nodded. “I’m sorry. But maybe you and Hades could talk it out. You could just be his queen and not his wife, right? He needs you to help him rule, not warm his bed.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting another wave of tears. I was never getting out of this. Not now, not in a thousand years, not ever. Not as long as Zeus treated me like property and Hades went along with him. “He would never agree,” I whispered.
“So don’t give him a choice.” Hermes tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, his touch so gentle that I shifted closer. “Just tell him. You’re stronger than you think you are, Persephone. Never question that. You can do whatever you set your mind to, circumstances be damned.”
“I wish—” My voice broke, and I swallowed thickly. “I wish I were like Aphrodite. I wish I had the strength to do what she did.”
“Maybe someday you will,” he said. “You just need to find the right person is all. If Hades isn’t it, then there’s nothing wrong with that. This doesn’t have to be forever if you don’t want it to be.”
I snorted despite myself. “Everything in our family is forever.”
“Only the good things,” he said. “We usually find a way to fix the bad ones.”
“Don’t see how anyone would agree to let me off the hook if I don’t even try.”
“Then try. Do whatever you have to do to prove to yourself and the rest of the council that it isn’t a good fit.”
“Hades will never let me go,” I mumbled. “Not now, not in a hundred years, not ever. He loves me.”
“If he really loves you, then once he understands how miserable you are, he will let you go,” said Hermes. “Just because he’s a good guy doesn’t mean he’s a good guy for you.”
I shook my head. “You can say all the pretty things you want, but that won’t change anything.”
“You’re right,” he said. “The only one who can change any of this is you. You just have to try.”
“But I already did.”
“I know. They should’ve listened.” He pulled me into a hug. The weight of his arms around my shoulders was a comfort, and I managed to relax against him. At least I had someone on my side.
A moment later, the breeze picked up again, and I sensed a second presence in the meadow. The sun dipped beneath the horizon, and Hermes stiffened. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
“Please,” I whispered one last desperate time. “I’ll do anything.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” Hermes’s voice was low and his words rushed. “Listen—I’ll visit you all the time, I promise. You won’t be alone. Just do me a favor and give yourself a chance, all right? Do whatever you have to do to be happy, even if that means upsetting the council. They’ve already had their say. Now it’s your turn.”
I pressed my lips together. Being that kind of selfish went against everything Mother had taught me. Be there for others; place their happiness above my own; be content with my life; don’t be greedy or envious or unkind; appreciate the warmth and love around me, and don’t covet what I don’t have.
But how could I appreciate what wasn’t there? Hades may have loved me, but what did that mean if I couldn’t feel it? He could love me more than anyone loved anyone else in the entire world, and it still wouldn’t help if I didn’t love him back. Maybe in time I would adjust and grow to love him, but right now, all I could think about was the rock weighing down on me and the feeling of Hades’s body over mine. And I didn’t have the patience to wait.
“Promise me, Persephone,” whispered Hermes, and at last I nodded.
“I promise.”
Behind me, something—rather, someone—cast a shadow over me with what little daylight remained, and I shivered. “Hades.”
“I am sorry to interrupt,” he said quietly, and there was something about the way he said it that made me think he really was. “If I could speak with you alone, Persephone?”
Hermes nodded, and before I could protest, he untangled himself from me and stood. “I’ll see you around,” he said to me, and at least I knew he wasn’t just saying that. At sixteen, he was training for his role on the council, as I was, and part of that included guiding the dead down to the Underworld. Chances were good I’d see him often, and that one reminder was enough for me to breathe easier. It wouldn’t be just me and Hades down there. I had to remember that.
Once Hermes walked off into the woods, Hades knelt beside me. His long, dark hair, usually so impeccable, was mussed, and his fingers dug into his thighs. “I owe you an apology.”
Not this again. “You don’t owe me anything,” I mumbled, staring down at a lopsided blossom. “I’m sorry I ran up here.”
“Do not be,” he said. Neither of us could look at the other. “What happened last night…I promise you it will not happen again, not unless we are both willing and prepared.”
His words twisted something in my gut. I’d been willing last night. Nervous, but willing, and determined to get it over with. Had he not been? Had I taken that from him? Was that part of the reason why things were so terrible between us?
“I don’t…” The words stuck in my throat, and I struggled to swallow them.
Just tell him.
Hermes’s voice echoed through my mind, gentle but unyielding, and finally I opened my mouth and blurted, “I want a separate bedroom.”
Hades blinked, clearly startled. “Is there something wrong with—”
“Yes,” I said before I lost my nerve. “I’m scared of you. I’m scared of this. And if I can’t stay up here, then I don’t want to stay with you down there.”
He stared at me, speechless. For the better part of a minute, his eyes searched mine, and I refused to look away. I couldn’t back down no matter how much it hurt him. Maybe this was a step in the wrong direction, maybe this was exactly what we didn’t need, but I needed a space of my own. If I stayed with him, I would crumble. And I rather thought he would, too.
“All right,” he said, his voice cracking. “If that is what you want…”
“It is,” I said. “I’m your queen, and I’ll rule at your side as much as you need me to. But if you want me at my best, then I can’t be your wife. Not yet. Not until things are better.”
For the briefest of moments, his expression shifted into pain and self-loathing, and guilt rushed through me as I nearly took it back. I could try. I had it in me. But even as I opened my mouth, that wall reared up inside me again, forming a barrier between us so strong that no amount of guilt could break it. I couldn’t be his wife. Not now. Not if I wanted to have any chance of surviving this.
“Someday they will be,” I said. “We can work toward it. Just—give me a chance to adjust, okay? And in the meantime, we’ll be friends.”
His expression relaxed enough to let me know I’d said something right. “Very well. We are friends.”
Hades stood, offering me his hand, and I reluctantly accepted. Not because I needed his help, but because he needed some small amount of hope. I couldn’t crush him completely.
“I want you to be happy,” he said as the warm breeze danced around us. “From the moment your mother introduced us, my joy was tied with yours, and I promise you that despite my mistakes, everything I do is to please you.”
I nodded, wishing I could say the same. But my happiness was my own, and I couldn’t be responsible for his, as well. “Thank you,” I said quietly. “Before going back, could we go somewhere warmer and walk around a little?” It was dusk here by now, but it was still morning back home, and I was desperate to feel the sun on my skin again.
