“He looks at her as if she were a… a delicacy for his pleasure. He would be wise to remember that she is…”
“Soon to be his wife?” Hermes spoke without inflection, causing Hades to turn to him.
“Is it agreed upon?”
“Demeter brought Persephone here with the union in mind. I cannot imagine anything would change Demeter’s path. But if you spoke with Zeus…”
Hades held up a hand. “Is that why you brought me here? To encourage my… weakness? Do not continue, Hermes. Leave me and enjoy your companions. I will find my way home without you as my guide.”
Hermes hesitated, then entered the hall and left Hades alone with his thoughts.
He sat, wearily, beneath an aged oak. It cast long shadows, no doubt intended for lovers in its seclusion. The thought did little to ease him. He leaned against the tree and scowled, lost in his thoughts and anger.
Demeter favored her daughter. All knew it to be true. Why then would she seek to marry Persephone to the likes of … Erysichthon? The mortal had the look of… Hades swallowed then. That was it. Erysichthon reeked of the same self-importance, greed, and unrestrained hunger as Poseidon.
Or was he too blind to see that this mortal was a good choice for Persephone?
A slight sound reached him and he pulled his mask into place.
Persephone crept, moving on silent feet, down the steps and into the farthest corner of the walled garden. She pressed herself against the wall, touching the leaves and thorns of the rose bush as she stared up at the moon high overhead.
He watched her, in awe of her beauty.
She was troubled, wary.
His hands tightened, fisting in the dirt. Would that he could cheer her. He could do nothing but ensure a future of sadness, offer her nothing. And still he found himself rising to go to her.
Heavy footfalls found them, introducing Erysichthon to their midst.
###
Erysichthon stared at the girl. He drank heavily from his cup, letting his eyes roam over Persephone in the moonlight. She was lovely, he conceded, perched at the edge of his gardens, ready to take flight.
“Fresh air?” Erysichthon asked softly. “It is warm in the hall.”
She turned wide eyes upon him, nodding.
He saw her skittish nervousness and moved slowly, carefully, to the bench amongst his roses. He sat, smiled at Persephone and patted the bench beside him. “Sit with me, then, and tell me of your life.”
She stood still, glancing nervously about her.
His gaze raked her from head to toe. Surely he could find some spark of her mother if he looked hard enough? But where Demeter was clearly driven, fair Persephone seemed uncertain. She was timid, uncomfortable. She’d bristled when he tried to tease. Demeter would have sat at his side, fluttered her eyelashes and bent him to her will with ease.
He closed his eyes, feeling the pain that had yet to dull.
Demeter. She enjoyed their battle of wits, as did he. She knew and accepted him as he was. Like his Ione. The pain intensified. He swallowed down the last of his wine and pushed thoughts of his lost daughter aside. He would bring her h
ome, in time.
He turned, smiling broadly at his intended. “Are you familiar with Thessaly, Persephone?” He added, “I would be pleased to take you on a tour.”
He watched the slight crease of her brow, the tightening of her mouth. So she was as pleased with this arrangement as he was, then? It was some comfort.
Her voice was tight. “That would be lovely, my lord.”
He bit back a laugh. Her tone assured him she saw nothing lovely about the idea. Perhaps they would suit, in time. “There’s much to see, I assure you. In time, I hope you will come to love this land as I do, as your mother does.”
She turned brilliant green eyes upon him. Curious, he’d never seen such a shade before. Quite unsettling. “Is it safe?” she asked.