He smiled at her. “Guarded, then.”
She blushed fiercely. “Do you… Did he send you?” She felt such hope, such promise.
He shook his head. “Never. He would not think it.”
Her face fell, but she nodded.
“He will fight you.” Hermes held his hand up, further buffering their whisper from Demeter’s slumbering form.
“Will he? Fight? Me?”
He nodded. “He will not give up his heart easily. No matter how eager it might be to leave him.”
“Is it? If only that were true,” she whispered. “I have no wish to… torment him with my … affection. But I do… I am, most fond of him.”
Hermes covered his mouth, shaking his head. “Persephone,” he sighed. “He’s forgotten what a heart is for.”
She felt sadness at such words. “I would show him. I would help his heart find its way… to me.”
He studied her for some time, then said, “Then I will help you…”
Demeter sat up, jolting sharply awake and making them jump apart.
“Persephone? I forgot to tell you. In one week’s time, we journey to Thessaly. You will meet Erysichthon, King of Thessaly. He is most loyal to me. Since Hermes will not have you, I’ve decided that Erysichthon may.” She yawned, stretching before she rose to her feet. She reached for her daughter’s hand, pulling Persephone up with her. “It promises a fine match. For he can protect you when I am away.”
Persephone was too stunned to speak or resist.
Erysichthon?
“You may sleep here, Hermes. But my daughter and I must find our beds alone.”
Persephone stared blindly ahead, stunned. How could such bliss turn to misery?
###
Erysichthon watched the last of the revelers go, and with them his daughter Ione. He’d done as Demeter demanded, sent his daughter to wife with a man older than his own father.
His Ione had smiled throughout, a fine daughter.
“A good wedding,” a man said, his pale blue eyes assessing Erysichthon with ease. “I hear the father is soon to marry?”
Erysichthon looked at the man. A fit specimen, well-muscled and agile, Ione would have fancied him. But that he knew of his impending marriage? This was troubling. Few knew he was considering it, and none who he might wed.
“Do I know you?” He knew he didn’t. He cut too striking a figure. And he wore fine robes, too fine for an unimportant man. “You were a guest? From Haemon’s family?”
The man shook his head. “I come for other business.”
“Oh?”
The man’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I seek Erysichthon. The great King of Thessaly, warrior of Greece.”
“You have found him.” Erysichthon paused. “You are from Olympus, then? What does my Goddess want of me now?”
The man smiled, a most magnanimous smile. “Fealty.”
He scowled, waving the man to follow. “When have I not given her fealty?” He entered the great hall, waving off attendants and serv
ants. “I have done all she asked, without the promise of her daughter’s hand.”