"Do we really still have something to worry about?" Because from how this discussion was going, it seemed as if they already had all of their bases covered—-
"Smuggling," Hadrian said finally.
Did he just say—-
I studied his expression.
Not joking.
I stared at him blankly. "Smuggling is a thing here?"
"It's something we've turned a blind eye to over the years. We understand the occasional need of our people for some semblance of excitement in their lives."
Did Hadrian just make smuggling sound like some sort of adrenaline sport?
"It can get rather boring here."
And now he was saying the Underworld - the place that humans lived in terror of - was boring?
I guess I was just going to have to add those to my growing list of things to Google or whatever the magical counterpart of the search engine was here.
For now, we had a vial to search for, and when I tuned back to the conversation, it was to hear Hadrian telling Mira he would personally check every border of the realm, just to make sure it was both thunderbolt and escape-proof.
I need to be mature about this, I told myself, and so when we were alone in our bedroom, and Hadrian was telling me that he might be out the entire night—-
"It's fine," I assured him.
"You're sure?"
"Of course."
"Really sure?"
"Hadrian." I feigned a look of exasperation, and it proved to be the right move, with Hadrian's features instantly relaxing. But the moment he was gone, my stress levels shot up, and I found myself tossing and turning for hours.
I tried my hardest to sleep, but it was impossible. I briefly considered contacting any of my ghostly friends using a Ouija board, but then I thought about how that could lead to certain awkward questions...
Never mind.
I started counting basilisks in my mind.
One basilisk slithered under the fence.
Two basilisks slithered under the fence.
But just when I made it to 128, and my eyelids finally started to droop, that was when I felt it.
Shit.
I threw the covers off, but it didn't help.
I was burning hot, and unfortunately it was all for the wrong reasons.
Two words, guys: Hot. Flashes.
I hurriedly Googled what to do. Hormone therapy was out, and so was lowering the room temp. Hadrian's bedroom might be fit for royalty, but we also happened to be in Hell and not Hokkaido or Helsinki.
Sipping cold drinks didn't work either, but after a couple more trials by error, I eventually struck gold with meditation.
As instructed, I imagined myself floating in a sea of calmness.
Calm.
I'm so calm.
So, so calm I don't even know how to spell stress.
Like, how many S does it even have?
Four? Ten?
Who knew?
Maybe you did, but I don't.
Because I'm calm.
And I was...until I woke up and received my first copy of Underworld Times.
NEW LADY OF THE UNDERWORLD HAD GOD OF MEDICINE ON CALL
AT FIRST SIGN OF TROUBLE!Chapter Six"This is unbelievable," I bemoaned to an indifferent and still-irritatingly-lovely Mira in her laboratory after breakfast. "They also had a super scary article on a Category 4 hurricane about to hit New England and how the wind gods are barely holding up against Zeus. That write-up should've been on the front page—-"
"It would've been," Mira agreed, "if the residents of the Underworld thought there was a chance we'd be similarly affected. But since Hades has personally assured everyone we're safe, the news needs something more sensational..."
"You're going to say something bad again, aren't you?"
"Like the fact that you're a failure as a queen—-"
"But I'm not a failure."
Mira only stared at me.
"Seriously, I'm not."
"If they compare you to Persephone," she pointed out, "you will always come up inferior—-"
I shot her an indignant look. "Just because I wasn't born a goddess?"
"Plus the fact that she plays the piano, guitar, violin, flute, and harp, is a champion in archery, tennis, polo, swimming, ballroom dancing, chess, jiu-jitsu—-"
"Does she speak Dothraki?" I challenged.
"No, she doesn't, but Persephone does speak 71 other languages—-"
"Next topic please."
"She made Hades court her for four decades—-"
"News flash, cousin of my boyfriend: if I made Hadrian court me for the same length of time, I'd be six feet underground by the time we have our first date—-"
"So many excuses," Mira sniped.
"It's called being human," I sniped back.
"In our world, we call that a defect." She brightened. "Shall we talk about that instead? You have so many horribly defective traits—-"
"No, Mira. We shan't."
"Then there's nothing else I care to talk about with you." Mira turned back to her test tubes, and I almost smiled. It was nice to know Mira had a sense of humor as long as she was dissing me. Unfortunate talent, but at least I could be sure I'd never be bored while hanging with her.
I watched Hadrian's cousin insert a slide under a microscope, thinking how she had such an air of clever competence it almost seemed unbelievable that she hadn't been able to properly secure her lab.