I blinked and blinked, but I still didn't get it. "I'm sorry, but you've lost me at manifest."
"In other words, milady, what they're asking—-" Aeacus, ever the bluntest of the ARM, was the one who ended up explaining it like I was five. "—-is what exactly are you a goddess of?"
My brows furrowed. "Well, duh. I'm the Lady of the Underworld—-"
"Because you married Lord Hades," Minos emphasized. "What they are asking is your divine dominion, and it must be something that is yours alone."
"Take Lord Eros as an example, milady," Rhadamanthus suggested. "Even though he has yet to meet his mate, it's already been prophesied that his future wife and queen will be the Goddess of Soul."
"Doesn't Aretha Franklin already own that title?"
The ARM groaned, but when they also heard their lord and liege laugh, the three immortals turned to Hadrian with pained expressions on their divinely handsome faces.
"You could not have seriously thought that funny, milord." Minos looked ready to dial the God of Medicine's hotline in Silver Mist Hospital.
"Ignore them," I urged Hadrian. "It's because they've been crusty old bachelors for long, they've simply lost their sense of humor—-"
"Or maybe your joke truly isn't that funny, milady?" Rhadamanthus asked.
"Keep ignoring them," I told my husband again.
Hadrian's eyes gleamed. "As you wish, my love."
The ARM looked seriously ready to puke now, but because I was LOTUS, I decided to stay on the high road and walk my talk as well. My gaze solely focused on Hadrian, I asked eagerly, "What can I do to fix things?"
"Nothing."
My jaw dropped. "What do you mean nothing?"
"Simply that," Hadrian answered calmly.
"Seriously?"
"Where you're concerned, my love, I've learned to simply let nature take its course."
"But surely there must be something I can do," I insisted.
"Then..." Hadrian considered me gravely. "Could you promise me to stay out of trouble until our next court appearance?"
Hadrian's vassals had already started shaking their heads even before he finished speaking, but because I was still on the high road, I continued ignoring them and remained focused on my husband. "Can't you think of anything I can actively do—-"
"Staying out of trouble is something you can actively work on, love. A month of not getting yourself killed," Hadrian murmured. "Could you not promise me that?"
Before I could even open my mouth, Aeacus had already beaten me to speaking. "You're asking for the impossible, milord."
"A fortnight perhaps," Rhadamanthus said pensively. "I think milady could stay out of trouble that long."
Minos shook his head. "I'd give it a week at most. If milady could keep herself out of trouble until even just the weekend, I'd be mightily impressed."
But as it turned out, all of them were wrong.
I didn't even last a day.
Chapter Three
An urgent message from the Underworld reached Hadrian just as our synefia let us down in front of the Silver Mist Book Shop. Some god who went by the name of No Sauce of all things had apparently been caught stirring up mischief in the bowels of Hell, and Hadrian only had time to give me a swift, hard kiss on the lips before he and his vassals were off a-hunting.
Just watching him stride away made me start missing him already, and I had to square my shoulders and forcibly remind myself that being clingy would be a major turn off.
Absence made the heart grow fonder, Saoirse, so for your marriage's sake, give the dude some space.
And besides...
"I'm baaaaaaack!"
Ghostly applause erupted in Apartment 13B as I floated through the wall to make my grand entrance. A flurry of figuratively warm hugs engulfed me soon after, and even eight-year-old Mary Priscilla burst into tears, never mind if she also insisted afterwards it was only because the sight of me hurt her eyes. Damn little brat was horrible like always, but whatever. I was just too happy to get snarky in return.
The Underworld might be my new home now, but the ghostly side of Portland would always occupy a special place in my heart, and it felt great to be around everyone again, just hanging and haunting like old times.
Even better, none of my disembodied chums seemed to hold it against me that I had ended up marrying the "enemy". I mean, sure, many of them still looked slightly ill every time I accidentally slipped up and mentioned Hadrian's name, but it wasn't like they were being deliberately offensive. My husband and my ghostly pals were like oil and water; they simply weren't destined to mix, and while I was mostly okay with that...
I glanced down at Mary Priscilla, who was in one of her rare moments of silence as she floated next to me a few inches off the ground.
It was only the two of us now, with the party having come to an end when the sun started to set. With the sole exception of Joaquin, a Spaniard cursed only to haunt in the daylight, most other spirits preferred to attend to their personal business in the dark.