Hecate lifted a brow, and then she narrowed her eyes. “I am going to step out those doors and count to ten,” she said. “And if you both are not out of bed and reasonably clothed, I will curse your sex life for the next week.” Hecate turned. “Hermes!”
“What? I am here for accountability!” he said.
“I’ll curse you too, Hermes. Do not try me!”
“Fine,” he whined and stomped toward the door. “No one ever lets me have any fun.”
When the door was closed, Persephone looked down at Hades.
Outside, she heard Hecate yell, “One!”
“I am trying to decide how long it would take to make you come,” Persephone said.
Hades laughed. “I think it depends on whether Hecate decides to actually count to ten,” said Hades.
“Nine!”
“And there is your answer,” Hades said.
Persephone scrambled off him and summoned a robe while Hades sat up in bed, dragging a sheet over his erection, and when that didn’t work, he grabbed a pillow.
“Ten!”
Hecate threw open the doors.
“You skipped, like, seven numbers!” Hermes complained.
Hecate entered the room like a storm, her expression determined, though Persephone was used to this version of the Goddess of Witchcraft, especially when she was involved in organizing something. She took pride in the work and wanted everything to go smoothly.
Now that she was dressed, Persephone went to her. “I am so glad to see you, Hecate,” she whispered as her arms slid around her waist.
The goddess held her close and spoke against her hair. “And I you, my dear.”
Persephone pulled away, but Hecate held her hand.
“Come. We must get you ready for tonight!”
Persephone looked over her shoulder at Hades. “Remember, you made a promise,” she called as Hecate dragged her out of the room and down the hall to the queen’s suite.
Inside, the lampades waited near the mirrored vanity. Persephone smiled at the silvery nymphs who had come to be an integral part of her glamorous routine.
“I am so glad to see you,” said Persephone. “It has been too long.”
“Lucky for you,” said Hecate. “You will need them for quite a few things this month.”
Persephone wondered which things, but mostly she was curious about tonight. She did not think it was time for the ascension ball, though it was fast approaching.
She sat down, though it took her some time to face herself in the mirror. When she finally lifted her head and met her gaze, she did not see what she had expected.
She’d thought she would see a stranger, a shell of the person she had been in her previous life.
Instead, she saw strength.
She saw pride.
She saw a woman who was queen.
She let her gaze rise to Hecate, who watched her in the reflection.
“Now you see yourself clearly,” the goddess said.
The lampades worked, smoothing her hair into perfect waves, which complimented the simple but glamorous makeup they had chosen—winged eyeliner and a bold red lip. The look made even more sense once Hecate dressed her. The goddess had chosen a black gown with a narrow waist, a flared skirt, and a high slit.
Hades will like that, Persephone thought.
The bodice was almost a corset, and while the fabric over her ribs was sheer, the fabric over her breasts was velvet and embellished with shimmering black beads.
It was just simple enough, and Persephone loved it.
“It is beautiful, Hecate,” she said, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “But what’s the occasion?”
The goddess smiled. “You will know soon enough.”
“You can’t blame me for trying,” Persephone said.
There was a pause, and once again, in that quiet, darkness seeped in, and Persephone spoke.
“I saw you die,” she said. “I will never forget it. Cronos broke you.” She could not look at Hecate, but she could feel her gaze. “I love Hades. I will not live without him,” she said. “But I cannot live without you either, Hecate.”
“Oh, my dear,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “You will never have to.”
When Persephone looked up, she saw that Hecate’s eyes were watering, but the tears never fell. Instead, she drew Persephone into a hug, and when she pulled away, she touched her chin.
“I do not have children of my own,” Hecate said. “But you, I consider a daughter.”
This time, Persephone burst into tears, and suddenly, the lampades were fluttering around her, fanning her face and touching up her makeup. Before they could risk any more heart-to-hearts, there was a knock at the door.
“It looks like it’s time,” Hecate said.
As soon as Persephone stepped outside the room, she was met with cheers. She halted, startled by the sudden sound but also the appearance of so many souls. They lined both sides of the hallway, creating a path for her to follow.
“Oh, Hecate,” Persephone whispered. Her hand came to rest over her racing heart.
“This is only the start,” said the goddess, and she offered her arm.
Persephone took it, and together they walked down the path of souls as it curved into the foyer, past the library and dining room. The journey took a while because she paused to hold hands and pull others in for hugs. Everyone was here, crammed into the palace—even the children, who raced to her and wrapped their arms around her legs.
It wasn’t until she saw Yuri that she really began to cry, and she wondered why she had bothered with makeup at all. The young soul approached and threw her arms around Persephone’s neck, and while they hugged, she caught sight of Lexa and then Apollo. With each friend, each embrace, she felt like her heart was going to burst from happiness.
“Apollo,” she whispered, holding him tight, her head resting against his hard chest. He had no heartbeat, but he was warm.
“You look beautiful, Seph,” he said.
“I miss you,” she said.
He chuckled. “You won’t for long.”
She pulled away. “Don’t say that.”
He shrugged. “Call it self-awareness,” he said. “I’m a needy motherfucker.”
She laughed, and Apollo smiled, then he turned his head, nodding in the direction of the throne room.
Persephone looked, and it felt like her heart had stopped and all the air had been sucked from her lungs.
Through the open doors, she could see Hades on the dais before his throne, his eyes burning brightly, the deep sapphire blue of his Divine form. His hair was down, falling thickly past his shoulders, and his horns were on display, making him look even larger. Beside him stood Hermes, who was dressed in a gold himation, the fabric moving almost like water. He was also in his Divine form, his white wings spread wide.
Cerberus, Typhon, and Orthrus waited too, no longer in their monstrous form. They sat stoically on Hades’s right, though Persephone could see Orthrus’s body wiggling. It was taking everything in his power to remain where he was.
“Hecate,” Persephone asked. “What is this?”
“Your coronation,” the goddess said. “You are Queen of the Underworld, but you have not been crowned.”
Persephone’s lips parted in surprise, and she met Hades’s gaze again.
Hecate tugged on her arm, guiding her forward. Yuri, Lexa, and Apollo followed behind her. She looked at Hecate, confused.
“They’re your handmaidens,” said the goddess. “It’s tradition.”
Persephone felt like she was in a daze as she made her way into the packed throne room, her eyes never leaving Hades’s. She had never felt so nervous. It was like marrying Hades all over again, except that this time, she was basically marrying his entire realm.
Hecate led her right to the bottom of the steps.
“Your Highness,” she said, nodding to Hades. Then she turned to Persephone. “I love you, my dear.”
Persephone’s mouth quivered. “I love you too,” she whispered.
The goddess smiled before leaving her side, making her way up the steps to stand on the other side of her ivory throne.
Persephone’s gaze slid to Hades.
“My darling,” he said, his voice quiet but warm.
“My love,” she replied.
“Sephy,” said Hermes.
Hades glared at the god, but Persephone laughed.
“Bestie,” she said.
Hermes grinned. “See, Hades, we’re besties.”
“Curse, Hermes!” Hecate snapped.
“Fine,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, pouting.
There was a beat of silence as Persephone’s attention returned to Hades, though it had never truly left. She was always aware of him, even when she wasn’t looking at him. She could feel him, an anchor to this world.
“Darling,” he tried again. “I have chosen you as my wife and queen. Do you accept—”
“Yes,” she said.
Everyone laughed, including Hades, his eyes glinting. “Ever eager.”
She felt the rasp of his voice in the bottom of her stomach. There was a pause, and this time when he spoke, she did not interrupt.
“Do you accept responsibility for the people of this realm and all who will pass through its gates?”
“I do,” she said.
She had, but then they all already knew that. They had watched her fight for them, and she would do so over and over again.
“And you promise to uphold the laws of my court?”
Persephone lifted her head, her answer a little more hesitant. “Yes?”
Hades chuckled. “Fair enough.”
Hermes approached Hades and handed him a crown. It was made up of black spires, identical to the one Hades wore now. With it in hand, he approached. He was already tall, but now he was elevated by the steps, which forced her to tilt her head back to hold his gaze.
“Then it is my pleasure, my greatest honor, to offer you this crown as a symbol of your dedication and love for my people and this realm.”
She lowered her head, staring at Hades’s chest as he placed the crown upon her head. She was surprised by how heavy it was, but it also felt as familiar as the weight of her horns.
Hades offered his hand and helped her up the steps, kissing her deeply before they sat on their thrones.
Only then did the dogs move. All three shot forward, crowding Persephone, desperate for pets and head scratches. She was all too happy to oblige, but then Hades whistled sharply, and the three sat immediately.
“Oh, Hades,” she said. “They are fine.”
“With the way they act, you would think they never get any attention.”
She arched a brow. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were talking about yourself.”
Hermes snorted.
Then Hecate spoke, her voice resonating in the crowded room. “All hail our King and Queen. May they reign forever.”
The crowd cheered, and Persephone looked at Hades.
“Forever,” she said.
“Forever will never be enough,” he said. “Not when I have lived half my life without you.”
She considered commenting that he might say otherwise when he had lived half his life with her, but she knew he would disagree.
“Perhaps I can make you forget you were ever alone,” she said.
“I accept,” he said.
“Did you take that as a challenge?”
“No,” he said and grinned. “A promise.”