Persephone flopped back onto the bed, covering her face with her hands.
“He will not take…” Hermes tried.
“He is a man,” she snorted. “He will not refuse such an offer forever.”
“Mother,” she pleaded. “Leave him be. I’ve troubled him long enough. He will savor the quiet now that I’m gone from him. Perhaps that will please him above all else.”
She did not look at them, but turned on to her side and waited. She heard the door close, felt the bed move.
“Was it horrible?” her mother’s voice was soft. “I know he’s a brute…”
Persephone glanced at her, too weary to sit up or move. “Do we speak of Erysichthon? Or Hades?”
Demeter’s chin quivered, tears flowing freely. “Both… Oh, Persephone. Forgive me for putting you at the mercy of such men. All your life I sought to… to protect you… Instead…”
Persephone sat up, fighting the leaden weight of her arms to pull her mother close. “All is well, Mother,” she murmured, holding her mother until her sobs subsided.
Demeter leaned back, her face wet with tears. “You are right. All is well now that you are home.” Demeter wiped the tears from her face and patted her cheek. “We have time to share and catch up. You must tell me about Hades’ realm, later. First… a bath?”
She watched her mother, quickly recovered and demanding a bath be delivered.
“And Zeus has given us these chambers. If Poseidon had not learned the thrust of Erysichthon’s plan, you might well have been taken. And Hermes had the good fortune to come across that water nymph…”
“What water nymph?” Persephone’s head was beginning to throb.
“The one that saw you… When you were injured.” Demeter began to cry again. “She saw Hades, saw him take a woman into the Underworld the day Erysichthon battled the Persians. She thought no more of it until Hermes explained you were missing. But that you were carried into the Underworld, by Hades himself, prompted Hermes’ search. As he and Hades share little in the way of camaraderie, Hermes had never thought to ask Hades... It is no secret that Hades has little love for mortals, or company of any kind, really. But he must have known who you were...”
Persephone listened, stunned into silence. Hermes had told quite a tale.
Did Olympus truly see him so? Did no one see him as the hero he truly was?
She regarded her mother, flitting about the chambers for fresh linens, soap and a comb.
What would happen if she told her mother the truth? That Hermes had joined them at their supper table more than once while she was there? That he’d known where she was from the beginning?
The bath arrived, steaming and fragrant. Demeter held her hands out, smiling. ?
??Come, Persephone. It will do you good to sit a while.”
She stood, letting her mother unwind her tunic.
Demeter winced, drawing Persephone’s attention. Her mother’s hand trembled, pressing along the pale line that edged her ribcage. It was faint, so faint Persephone had all but forgotten the wound. Hades had said nothing about it when… Her heart twisted sharply.
“This shall be burned,” her mother’s nose wrinkled. “What a strange smell. I suppose the Underworld would have no use for flowers? Was it a strange place?”
Persephone sat in the warm water. White petals floated on the water’s surface, scenting the air heavily. She curled her toes, but the basin had a metal bottom. She missed the grit of sand and the perfume-free warmth of his pond. His arms, his smile, his touch…
She shook her head. She must forget. She must.
“Persephone? Forgive me,” Demeter bent over her, kissing her forehead. “I’ve missed you terribly. It’s been so long, so very long…”
“How long have I been gone?”
“The moon has come ten times since last I saw your sweet smile.” Demeter stroked her cheek. She sighed, took the soap in her hands and began to wash Persephone’s hair.
“I… I had no idea…” Persephone stammered.
“Were you ill for much of it?”