She paused, framed in the doorway, and gave him a sad smile.

“Yes, I am.”

Before he could say another word, she was gone.

Kate

Katherine Winters was born on a sunny September morning mere weeks before the autumnal equinox. And as soon as he received news of her birth, Henry retreated to the Underworld for the next several years, hiding himself away from the knowledge that her death would inevitably be on his hands, as well.

While Diana had taken on a mortal life to raise her daughter, the council was never far, watching over Kate as if she were their salvation. Though they never spoke about her directly to Henry at his request, he caught snippets of conversation about her progress. About how her birth had gone; her first day of school; about how Diana was living amongst the mortals, blending in as if she’d always been one of them. And despite his distance, even he could tell how happy they were together. Diana finally had the life she deserved, and he could not have been more thrilled for her.

But as pleased as he was that she had finally moved on from her anguish over Persephone, he could not ignore the fact that one day soon, he would take that happiness from her, as well. And the closer they drew, the more he thought about it, and the more he thought about it, the harder he begged Diana to let him go. To give her daughter a life she deserved, one where she could choose her fate. But no matter how he protested, Diana insisted again and again that Kate would have a choice; that she would be the one to choose to be with him, and if she did not want to try, then she would be free to live her own life.

Henry knew better, though. Even if Kate said no when she came of age, the council would find a way to manipulate her into it, and the very thought of her following in her sister’s footsteps made him sick. But the die had been cast, and her fate was sealed. She would be number twelve.

“You should go see her,” said James one evening, as Henry sat in his office with Cerberus slumbering at his feet.

Henry raised an eyebrow and peered at him. “And you should not be here.”

James shrugged. “Gonna be my realm soon anyway, so I don’t see why it matters.”

“Is that so?” said Henry.

“Well, yeah. Unless you think this will work.”

Henry was quiet. He hoped it would work, but deep within his mind, in a place he rarely allowed himself to visit, he knew it wouldn’t. They had done everything they could do to protect Bethany; he couldn’t possibly see what would be different about Kate. “Why are you here, James?”

“To make sure you have the chance I didn’t,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Even if something does happen to Kate, she’s a great kid. And you’re an idiot if you waste any more time avoiding her.”

He narrowed his eyes. “How dare you speak to me that way—”

“How dare you give up on Kate before she even has the chance to try.” James drew himself up to his full height. “She’s stronger than you know, and if she beats this, how do you think she’s going to feel, knowing you spent the first part of her life so sure she’d die that you couldn’t even bother to meet her?”

“I doubt she will care,” said Henry icily. “Considering Diana is raising her as a mortal.”

“She’ll find out who she is one day. We’re all busting our asses to protect her, making sure she’s never without one of us—even Ares is stepping up. But you can’t bother because you’re too much of a coward.”

“I am not a coward.” Henry stood, digging his fingertips into the hard wood of his desk. “I have watched eleven other girls perish because of me, and each one of them hurt as much as the one before. I do not enjoy the thought of Diana’s daughter falling victim to the same fate because of me.”

“Then do something about it. Guide her. Protect her. Help her. Don’t hide down here acting like she doesn’t exist,” said James, and for a moment, his voice hitched. They weren’t only talking about Kate anymore, but any remorse Henry felt for keeping him from his friend all those years ago had long since evaporated. “Even if something does happen to her, appreciate the time you have with her. Don’t ignore her in hopes that’ll make it hurt less. We both know it won’t.”

Henry clenched his jaw. “You have no right to tell me what to do.”

“And you have no right to act like she’s dead already.”

They glared at each other for the better part of a minute, neither willing to budge. A knot of frustration formed in Henry’s throat, rendering him silent regardless, and at last James sighed.

“It’s her seventh birthday today,” he said. “I’m not saying you should stay with her like you stayed with Ingrid, but I am saying it wouldn’t hurt if you went to see her. Diana would appreciate it. After all she’s doing for you—”

“Don’t,” said Henry, forcing the word out through his tight throat. “She is doing this for Kate, not for me. Kate will have a choice.”

“Then go give her that choice,” said James, and he inclined his head. “Central Park. Sheep Meadow. They’ll be there until sunset. Cerberus might appreciate running around and stretching his legs. Can’t imagine he gets much of a chance down here.”

With that, he turned on his heel and marched out of Henry’s office, leaving him in a cloud of self-hatred and uncertainty. What would it hurt, really, to see her? She was a child, yes, but he had no feelings for her other than the unyielding desire to protect her from harm. How could he do that when he didn’t even know what she looked like? And if James was right, if she did question his belief in her when she was old enough to know who she really was…