“Forgive me the question.” She shook her head.
“Does it surprise you that I am capable of such things?” His voice was low.
She glanced up at him, her green eyes sparkling. “No. Not in the least. Why would you ask such a thing?”
He would ignore the lightness in his chest. He would ignore the desire to smile. He turned towards the fire.
Her voice was soft. “I fear I must be a sight. I need to bathe.”
Images of her, warm and soft against him in sleep, flooded him. Her sighs, her smells, the feel of her pressed tightly against him, clutched his chest.
He turned. “I will have a bath delivered.”
Her eyes held his.
He nodded then left the room.
###
“The water is warm, Persephone.” He was speaking to her, looking down at her with his midnight blue eyes. And she could do nothing more than stare at him. He was so beautiful.
“My thanks,” she murmured. Had she fallen asleep? And now a steaming tub waited for her. She smiled in delight.
He cleared his throat. “Shall I leave you?”
Her stomach tightened. No, he should stay. He should climb into the bath with her. If she were her mother, or the nymphs, she’d know how to entice him. But she was not.
“Do you need assistance?” he asked.
She pushed herself from the furs, wobbling a bit as she did. The room spun, so she waited until it stopped, then stood slowly. “I think I can…” Her side pulled sharply, causing her to gasp and cover it.
He lifted her, carrying her to the tub and setting her into the water before she could respond. She blinked at him in surprise, seeing his nostrils flare and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. “My thanks.”
He nodded tightly. “I shall wait.” He crossed the room and pulled back the thick linens. A stream of pale sunlight spread across the floor, startling her.
She had not expected sun here. Her mother had said it was eternal darkness.
She peered beyond him at, yes; a large balcony. He glanced back at her before going to stand upon it.
She watched him. His back was straight and his head held high. And then he grasped the railing and his shoulders drooped, his head falling forward. He carried too many burdens upon his shoulders. They were broad shoulders, strong and sure. But he did not have to bear all alone.
Was she one of them? She frowned.
It took an effort to untie her peplos. She was weak and the fabric was soaked through. When she managed to remove it, she dropped it over the edge of the tub. It slapped loudly upon the stone floor.
She sighed, resting her head against edge of the tub.
Her mind spun. Long days of sleep and dreams blurred with what she thought were memories. But could they be? Surely not. Such dreams were too sweet to be real. And yet, she could imagine the feel of him pressed against her in sleep. She could smell him and…
Be brave. How many times had he whispered those words to her? He had, she knew it. It was no dream. She leaned forward, glancing at him. How she longed to hear him whisper to her again.
She washed, the soap he’d left smelling of him, spiced richly, musk and earth. She took a deep breath, drawing in the heady scent. She wet her hair, but her arms began to shake. She lathered the soap, but could not manage it alone.
“Hades?” she called, at once timid and excited.
He entered the room, his eyes upon her face.
“Is there someone… someone to help me?” she stammered. “I cannot… manage my hair.”