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CHAPTER XXXVIII

HADES

Hades split his day between Inequity and Nevernight. It had been a long while since he had time to focus on day-to-day matters—there were bargains to strike and deals to be made. After all these years in this role, Hades knew there was one constant in the world, and it was the predictable desires of gods and mortals. No matter the threat of war, they would always seek love, wealth, and power.

He was no different.

He had spent his life yearning for love, aware of its absence like a sharp thorn in his side. He used to think it was a selfish desire, but it was the only thing that made any of this tolerable. It was the only thing that would carry him through his war.

While he planned for it daily—and had done so for a long time—he had not had the time to sit long and dwell on what it would mean to return to the fold. Perhaps that was best, because when he did think too long onit, he remembered the heaviness of his armor, the way it trapped heat and burned him alive. He remembered the wet sound of bodies being speared and smashed and the smell of fire and festering death. He remembered blood—the color and consistency as it pooled and dried—and he remembered the day he no longer noticed its scent, so used to how it permeated the air.

War was inevitable when great power was at stake; it was inevitable when great love was at stake too. In the end, he would face it, and he would fight for Persephone while she fought for the world.

“You look terrible.”

Hades turned to see Hecate standing in the doorway of his Nevernight office.

“I feel terrible,” he said.

He hadn’t gone to bed, even after Persephone had asked. He’d upset her and she’d gone to the queen’s suite to sleep, which meant he hadn’t seen her when she’d risen for work either, and her absence weighed on him.

He should have conceded; he should have gone to her. He had essentially punished her for his own failures. He wasn’t sure why he thought space and distance were best. Only a few days ago, he had hated those words.

“Good,” Hecate said. “I need you.”

Hades’s brows rose. “For what?”

“I’ve made a suit,” she said. “I need to see you in it so I can decide if I like it.”

“Is it black?” he asked.

“No, it’s yellow,” she replied.

Hades sneered.

“Of course it’s black,” she said. “Why would I ever attempt to dress your dark soul in anything else?”

“If it’s black, why do I have to try it on? You know how it will look.”

“On second thought, I am certain I will like the suit. It’s you I take issue with.”

Hades smirked and rose to his feet. “Fine, Hecate. Work your magic.”

“Stop fidgeting!” Hecate commanded, speaking around the pins in her mouth. She was on her knees messing with the hem of his jacket.

Hades couldn’t help it. He had expected this suit to look like all the others he wore daily, but once it was on, he realized it did not even resemble his usual wardrobe. That wasn’t why he was fidgeting, though. It was because trying it on made him realize that he was really getting married.

“Is this silk?” he asked.

“It’s wool,” Hecate hissed. “If you do not stop moving, I will freeze you in place.”

“Wool?” he asked. “Why is it shiny?”

“Because it’ssoft.”

He chuckled. “Why are you so frustrated?”

“I do not know if you are aware, Hades, but your very presence is frustrating.”