But I would never be their equal, and they knew it as well as I did. An equal would’ve been allowed to make her own decisions, not pawned off in an arranged marriage at sixteen. If they thought I would lie down and take it, they were dead wrong.
“I love you,” whispered Mother. I stayed silent. Taking my hand, she placed it in Hades’s, his skin warmer than I expected. His silver eyes met mine, and a shiver ran down my spine.
I was his for eternity now.
* * *
I couldn’t hide behind the wedding forever. The other members of the council seemed to enjoy themselves, dancing and drinking well into the night. Hera remained close, eyeing me every so often, but she didn’t speak to me. Could she sense the mountain of anxiety forming in my chest? Could she see my fear growing with every moment I remained inside my stone cage? More than the rest of us, she cared about marriages being successful. Could she tell how much I hated mine already? Did she regret giving her blessing?
I wished she hadn’t. Maybe then my parents would’ve never forced me into this. I was hours into my marriage, and already I felt weighed down by rock and invisible chains. Not exactly an auspicious start.
At last only Hades, me and Mother remained, and after Hades excused himself for his chambers—our chambers now—she pulled me into a tight hug. “He loves you,” she murmured. “I know it may not feel like it, but he would have never married you if he didn’t.”
I buried my face in her shoulder. It wasn’t his love I was concerned about. It was mine. For as long as I’d been aware of what marriage was, I’d known I was promised to Hades, and I’d been absolutely certain I would love him by now. Enough to be content, at least, if not thrilled. And while I tried to grab on to the single wisp of love I may or may not have felt for him, it was beyond my reach.
But it would come closer the more time I spent with him, the more smiles and words and touches we shared. It had to. Aphrodite hadn’t chosen her husband either, after all, and now she’d spent the entire day cuddling up to him. And Hera, who had chosen hers, was completely miserable.
So maybe Mother was right. Maybe love was in that room, waiting for me, and all I had to do was go in there and get it.
“You’ll come visit me?” I said. “Or I could come visit you.”
“Both,” she said, kissing my cheek. “All the time, as much as you want. Just make sure you don’t neglect your duties down here, darling. And remember—happiness is a choice, but so is misery. Choose wisely.”
She let me go, and I reluctantly dropped my arms. Giving me a reassuring smile, she turned to go, but before she reached the door, I blurted, “It’ll be okay, right?”
Mother looked over her shoulder. “It already is. Go to your husband, Persephone. Give him a chance to make you happy.”
She left, the door closing behind her, and I exhaled. Hades was really my husband. My king. I was married now, and things would never go back to the way they’d been. This was my life now.
Time to face it.
The door into Hades’s chambers opened easily. I stepped inside, expecting it to be dark and dank, like the rest of the Underworld, but instead the large room was lit with dozens of floating candles. They cast a soft glow on the plush bed, where Hades sat waiting for me, and a fist wrapped around my guts. This was it.
“Persephone.” He rose and offered me his hand, his silver eyes searching mine. I didn’t know what else to do, so I threaded my fingers through his. We were friends, sort of. Growing up knowing who I was going to marry took the choice out of it, sure, but it’d also given me a lifetime of getting to study him. Mother was right—he was a good man. He did love me. And being here with him wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever experienced.
I stared at him for the space of several heartbeats, and at last I whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m not—I’m not really sure what to say.”
He smiled, crinkles appearing around his eyes. “Then allow me to break the silence by saying how lovely you look tonight. You always do, of course.” He touched one of my curls. They would change with the seasons, auburn in the coming months before turning black for the winter solstice, and then as spring came, they would lighten to brown. Finally, in the summer, I would be blond. It’d never served a purpose before, but now I would never lose track of the seasons in the Underworld.
I sank onto the edge of the bed. It was strange being alone with him—despite Mother’s insistence that he and I get to know each other, she’d always been present. He felt older somehow, and power radiated effortlessly from him. As he sat down beside me, however, he gently cupped my hand in both of his.
“You’re nervous,” he said. It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t wait for me to answer. “I am, too.”
I scoffed. “You’re King of the Underworld. What do you possibly have to be nervous about?”
He hesitated, brushing his thumb against my knuckles. The gesture was almost intimate in its simplicity, and a shiver ran through me. “I am nervous that I cannot give you everything you deserve.”
“What do you mean?”
He squeezed my hands. “You could do so many things with your existence, yet you are down here with me. I cannot tell you what that means to me. No one…” He paused, and the cords in his neck stood out. “No one has chosen me before, not because of who I am. Not for pure reasons. That you are willing to try is everything I have never had before.”