For the Love of Hades (The Loves of Olympus) by Sasha Summers

Author:Sasha Summers
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Crescent Moon Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Hades leaned against the arched doorframe, too pleased with the sight before him. Persephone slept, the even rise and fall of her chest offering him comfort. Her copper hair spilled over the kline’s pillows, blown gently by the evening breeze. He moved to her side, his fingers light upon her cheek. The absence of her, the touch of her skin and sound of her breath, plagued him nightly. And though he knew it was wrong, he could not stop himself from touching her now.

How soft her skin was. Was she too cool? He turned, heading for his chambers. He would bring some furs to warm her.

“My lord Hades,” Aeacus called out, his footsteps heavy in the otherwise silent room.

Hades raised his hand, pointing at Persephone. Aeacus nodded, pressing his lips together. He placed the scrolls upon the table and tapped them with his fingers.

“Much to report?” Hades asked softly, leading Aeacus into the hall and away from the balcony.

“None of interest,” Aeacus said. “The end of war brings a lull to your judges’ chambers.”

“Enjoy such idle times as you can. Man seems too eager to find their next conquest.”

Aeacus nodded, though his eyes returned to Persephone.

“Yes?” Hades asked, following Aeacus’ gaze.

“Is she well?”

“She seems to be.” Hades could not stop himself from lingering upon her face, relaxed in sleep.

“I have seen you walking together. Something she’d not been capable of when she first arrived here.”

Hades nodded. It was too soon to think of what she’d endured without rage and helplessness consuming him. But seeing her as she was, at ease, helped.

He turned, unrolling the scroll and spreading it flat upon the table. His eyes scanned the list.

“My lord Hades?” her voice was soft.

“Within,” he answered. He would not go to her, he would not further unman himself before Aeacus.

She joined them, smiling at Aeacus with warmth. As was her way.

“Good evening, Goddess.” Aeacus bowed low.

“Is it?” she asked, her brows rising.

To Hades’ eyes, she looked fragile, and lovely. He turned back to the scroll as she asked, “Have I slept the day away?”

“Sleep is best,” Aeacus offered, “when recovering from illness or injury. Or so my wife believed.”

He was aware of her every move. She moved closer to him, to his side. “Was she right?”

“I believe she was. Though I knew better than to praise her too regularly, for fear of increasing her self-importance.” Aeacus sighed, sounding amused. “But she was a good wife. A devoted mother.”

“And were you a noble husband?” Persephone asked. But Hades saw the panic on her face and the color on her cheeks. She did not wait for Aeacus’ answer, asking instead, “And these are your accounting?”

“Every soul’s story is recorded.” Aeacus paused. “Life’s deeds are weighed, each small thing tipping the scales one way or the other. So such records are necessary–”

“I believe you’ve called them tedious on more than one occasion,” Hades interrupted.

“Oh, they are that,” Aeacus assured him.

“But necessary,” Persephone prompted.

“You were blessed with Olympus’ favor,” Hades said.

Aeacus nodded.

“Tell me how, Aeacus,” Persephone urged.

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