He spoke with care. She need not know that such news affected him. “Are you not to be wed? To Erysichthon, Thessaly’s king, no less?”
Her smile faded, replaced by a frown. “I suppose I am. Does that make me Thessaly’s next queen?” She shook her head, looking bewildered.
He stared at her, at the play of emotions on her gentle features. If he saw even the slightest joy, the slightest flicker of excitement, it would be easy to leave her. It would please him, he told himself, to know she was pleased by the marriage… and her would-be husband. Instead, she looked perplexed.
“My mother has brought me to him with the hopes that wooing will lead to wedding.” Her nose wrinkled slightly, drawing attention to the light freckles there. “I fear I’ve found little promising in his wooing. Yet I know my likes or dislikes will not stop this wedding.” She tried to sound cheerful, but it was farce. One look at her face showed him the truth.
He turned from her, saying, “He is most dedicated to your mother, I hear.”
“Would that she’d marry him,” her answer was swift. He turned to her, saw her eyes go round as she stared at him. “Forgive me. That was impertinent.”
“It was,” he agreed, nodding. But a smile escaped him. She saw it and answered in kind. Her smile was bright and warm. Such a smile. “Do you speak to him this way?”
“No. Only you.” She shook her head. “You unleash my tongue and make me babble like a brook. A habit I’m sure you’ve become painfully aware of. I fear such… honesty would do little to endear me to him.”
He watched her, savoring every word, every nuance, of her being.
“Then he is a fool. Honesty is a virtue to be revered.” This Erysichthon would have years to learn her expressions, her sighs and smiles, her laughter. “Honesty is but a gift, one your husband is few amongst men to have.”
She moved towards him, almost timidly. Her scent hit him, flooding him with each breath he took. He tightened, drawing himself rigid as he looked down at her. Did she see how she unsettled him? He hoped not.
Her voice was a whisper. “Is honesty the virtue you value most, Hades?”
His gaze fell from hers, but he nodded.
“Then you shall always hear it from my lips, I vow.”
He lifted his eyes. She stood so close he could touch her. He could stroke one silken copper lock, or cup the smooth softness of her golden cheek. His eyes did what his hands could not, traveling over her hair, her face… her lips. He remembered the cling of her lips all too well.
He closed his eyes, seeking control. It was a memory he favored above all others. But it must remain just that, a memory. He’d come to say good-bye, to apologize to her. And then, he pleaded with the Fates, he would be released from this strange… obsession that plagued him so.
His eyes held hers. “My words, when last we met… I should not have berated you. It was not my place.”
She blinked, her lower lip trembling. “You were right to scold me. The grass would grow, the flowers bloom, without me.”
He shook his head, self-loathing near choking him. He swallowed, speaking softly. “No. You honor Olympus with your gifts. You fulfill your duties, Persephone. Bring growth and renewal. It is an important task, you are important, to all who live.” His throat grew tight as he added. “Forgive my temper. It was misplaced.”
He’d never seen such a smile. How she was capable of such emotion, such joy, with such a simple gesture astonished him. He drew in a deep breath, near trembling as her scent filled him once more.
“I forgive you.”
It was done. She’d forgiven him and he was free. He could leave her, should leave her. She would be well guarded by this Erysichthon of Thessaly. Demeter was careful with her daughter.
And yet, he would see her happy. He wanted more for her, a marriage beyond that of Zeus and Hera’s deceitful and jealous match… beyond his own… In time, she would be happy, surely? “You will marry this mortal?”
She drew in breath. “Of course… As you reminded me, my mother’s will demands fealty. I would be a good daughter, and a good wife, and obey.”
Her words did not satisfy him. “He is a good man? He will look after you?”
She frowned, shaking her head. “From what little I know of him, yes. He is, by all word and deed, an honorable man. Does it matter?” She paused. “To you?”
He knew what his answer should be. He should tell her that her marriage was a reflection on Olympus, and the Gods. He should tell her that such an alliance would benefit Thessaly. But he did not speak, for fear of the truth slipping out.
Chapter Eight
“And who would you be?” Erysichthon spoke with surprising menace.
Hades spun, standing between Persephone and her betrothed, to regard the man. Erysichthon did not pause, but drew close enough to tower over Hades, bumping him with his broad chest. Hades smiled up at the man, torn between admiration and amusement. The man was brave, or foolish.