Eight

I think the best sensation in the world is to wake up in the person that you love's arms. In the morning, I woke up to arms encircling my waist and Hades' scent in my nose. I rolled over, trying my best to be quiet, and softly traced his jaw. He had the faintest shadow of a beard, and I liked the tickle of his stubble on my fingers.

He hummed in appreciation and opened his eyes. I squeaked in surprise and blushed beet-red. "Good morning to you, too." He lowered his head and trailed kisses up and down my neck. I shut my eyes and sighed in pleasure. "You're so enchanting..."

"Hmm, thanks." I ran my hands through his hair. "We should get up and get breakfast."

"But why? I am content to stay here all day..."

I blushed at his innuendo and hid my face in the many pillows on the bed. He laughed beside me, and I felt his fingers run through my hair. Warmth spread from his touch, and I sighed in satisfaction.

Being here with Hades and having no interference from my mother was pure bliss. Hades was right; I could lay here with him all day...

"But you are correct, magnolia. We should get some breakfast."

I turned my head and met his eyes. "Can I borrow some clothes again?"

"Of course." Hades ducked inside his closet again and came back with two tank tops and another pair of shorts. "Hopefully, this works."

I changed; the tank tops fit, but I had to tie the shorts again. I laughed at my reflection—the shorts don't match the tank top at all!

"Later today, I shall bring in a tailor for you," Hades remarked once I reappeared.

Hades offered me his hand, and I took it. He guided me through the palace—its beauty still amazes me. Like earlier, I felt stares piercing my skin. I tried my best to ignore them.

We stopped in a room with a table that sat eight or so people. Somebody already set out the places. The table was mahogany, and a glittering chandelier hung above our heads. A bundle of asphodels sat in the middle of everything. All of it seemed so... imperial.

Hades sat at the head, and I chose the chair to his right.

"This is the Private Dining Room," Hades explained. "This room is used for informal meals—where myself and maybe Thanatos would eat. The Grand Dining Hall is for when I have guests or important meals."

"Will you give me a tour of the palace after this? I want to see more of your rooms."

"Certainly."

As if signaled, two of the staff appeared through a door in the back. The maids each placed a steaming vegetable omelet and buttered toast in front of us. I whispered my thanks, and the maid gave me a shocked face; before blinking it away.

She bobbed a curtsy. "Of course, milady."

I thought back to when I first had dinner with Hades. "Do you love asphodels so much because they grow here?"

"Precisely. The flowers are a sense of familiarity."

After I finished the omelet, Hades asked, "Where do you want to start?"

I shrugged. "Wherever you feel is good."

He brought me to the first floor. "This is the Ballroom."

The room had black and white marble floors with a marble staircase leading to another door. Hades explained that the second door is the second-floor entrance. Drawn-back black velvet curtains hung in front of ceiling-to-floor windows. Through the glass, I saw rolling hills with splotches of white flowers. Three chandeliers twinkled above our heads.

Hades guided me to the next place: the library. When he opened the door, the smell of old books flooded my nose. Massive mahogany bookshelves lined the walls, each filled with colorful book spines. A terra-cotta brick fireplace dominated the center of the room. And couches and tables dotted the room.

I knew that I would spend most of my time here.

For the next few hours, I saw lots of rooms—and lots of mahogany, velvet, and marble. Hades had countless bedrooms and bathrooms, more than a dozen parlors and studies, and a place that I remembered from yesterday—the Throne Room.

During the end of the tour, Hades guided me to a room that was similar to the Throne Room. He called it the Judgment Room. In it, there was a throne—comparable to the one in the Throne Room—and a table that could seat three people.

"This is where I hold Judgments. It is where King Minos, King Rhadamanthus, King Aeacus, and I decide a spirit's fate in the Underworld."

"Either Tartarus, Fields of Asphodel, or Elysium, right?"

He smiled. "Correct. Charon picked you up in the Fields of Asphodel."

"Oh, really? Cool."

Hades directed me outside next—back behind the palace and to the left. I spotted a small barn in the distance. I raised my eyebrows. "You have a farm?"

"Close. I have horses—nothing besides them."

Excitement bubbled beneath my skin. I never learned how to ride a horse! My mother deemed them too dangerous.

I smelled them as we grew nearer—a musty scent mixed in with a sweet trace of hay. The animals greeted us with a snort when we pushed open the door. Hades approached one in particular: a coal-black stallion. I noted with horror that these horses were not ordinary horses. They had ruby-red eyes.

Since when do demonic horses exist?

"What breed of horses are these?" I whispered to Hades—who was in the middle of stroking the stallion's nose.

"Has anyone told you of Heracles' twelve labors? Well, his fifth labor is to clean out some stables that its owner neglected for thirty years. These horses are one of the owner's mythical cattle breeds. They are flesh-eating horses."

"They eat what now?" I squeaked.

He met my eyes and smiled. "Do not trouble yourself, magnolia. I stopped feeding them humans once I acquired them. They are rather friendly. Come over and pet him."

I eyed him warily but moved closer. Hades gently guided my hand to its nose. The horse stomped its hoof as I made contact. I yelped and jerked my hand back. I bumped into Hades' chest.

"Morris can sense your trepidation. Take a few deep breaths and try again." Hades' breath fawned over my ear, and goosebumps trailed up and down my arms. I shivered somewhat and nodded.

I squashed down my fear and reminded myself that Hades wouldn't ever let anything happen to me. I reached out once more. The horse scrutinized me but allowed me to pet him.

"There you go," Hades murmured. Morris' fur felt soft under my fingers. I eventually moved from his nose and onto his head and mane. "Once you get settled, I will set you up with one of my mares."

I kissed his cheek. "I would like that. But I can't ride a horse—I never learned."

"That is not a problem. I will teach you."

As I took a step out of the stables, I heard thudding footsteps. I turned my head and saw a white animal racing toward me. It launched itself at me, and I hit the dirt with a thud. I groaned but got a closer look at my attacker.

I grinned. "Spot!"

Spot peered down at me and enthusiastically licked my face. I patted his head.

"All right, Kerberos. Get off of her."

Spot allowed me to sit up but remained on my lap. His tail thumped against my thighs. I eagerly scratched his ear and planted a kiss to his head.

A boy ran up, panic on his face. "I'm so sorry, Your Majesty! He got away from me!"

Hades responded, "It is okay. Kerberos is much stronger than he leads you to believe."

"You're not mad, sire?"

"No, of course, not. But next time—keep a keener gaze on the bastard."

"Thank you, sire. I will, sire." The boy gave Hades a small, rapid bow.

"Kerberos, go on now." Hades waved the dog away, and Spot trotted off with the boy.

Hades helped me off the ground, and I brushed off the dirt. Together, we headed back inside the palace. As we moved through the halls, a tapestry on the wall caught my eye. The image portrayed three men of the same age.

One man had dark, scruffy hair with a beard and sapphire-blue eyes—he reminded me of a sailor. The second man had longish, blond hair and light-blue eyes. A gut feeling told me that the third man was Hades. They had different faces, but similar enough features—they also had the same eyes.

In the picture, they all sat around a table, dressed in knee-length, Greek chitons. They had joyful expressions and held goblets of wine raised in the air—as if they were celebrating something. The tapestry itself was old and a bit faded.

"See something that you admire?" I jumped at Hades' voice in my ear. "My apologies, magnolia. I did not mean to startle you."

I smiled at him. "It's fine. Who is in this tapestry?"

He studied it for a second. I tilted my head at the reluctant flicker in his eye. "It is of my brothers and myself. That is me; that is Poseidon, and that is Zeus. Athena wove this after our victory in the Titan War."

The blood in my veins turned to ice. I stared at the blond man—who Hades identified as Zeus. "My-my father?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes, magnolia."

"Does... does he still look like that?"

"Pretty much. Zeus' hair is shorter and has some grey to it. He has a beard, too." He watched me for a second before speaking again, "Do you want to take a break? I have arranged for a tailor to take your measurements, but I can certainly push it onto tomorrow."

I barely heard him over my thoughts. If my father is still alive, why hasn't he ever visited me?

Why has he never called?

Why not something as simple as a letter?

I tore my gaze away from my father. "No-no, we can meet the, um, the tailor."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Let's go do it."

We continued walking. After a minute of nothing but footsteps between us, an idea hit me. "Wait, if Zeus is your brother... doesn't that make me your niece?"

"In a sense, yes. But it is not that black and white. Gods are technically not born but created." He grimaced. "Do you understand what I mean?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Mortals have come up with the idea that we are siblings, when, in fact, we are not. Mortals created our existence from stories and such, and we have embraced their ideas. I was born from stories—not a physical person."

"So... how was I born?"

"You shall have to ask the Fates that. They are the ones who instigated your birth."

Weird.

As two maids fussed over me with a tape measure, a thought crossed my mind. I met Hades' eyes through the mirror. His gaze was already on me. "Hades?"

"Yes, magnolia?"

"How did you call for a tailor? You were with me the whole time."

"Like Hekate, I employ some spirits from Tartarus. They work for me in order to reduce their many days in Tartarus. Because of this, I create an almost sire bond. With that bond comes the ability for me to telepathically talk to them."

"That's pretty neat."

"Speaking of Hekate, after this, I have to question Hekate about your entry."

A half-hour later, a third maid came into the room and presented a dress with some undergarments. The dress was sky-blue lace and had three-quarter sleeves. The hem reached my knees.

The maids urged me into the bathroom, and I slipped into the dress. It fit perfectly—it flattered all the right places. But, as I studied my reflection, I couldn't help but think: Is this process a waste?

How long will it take for my mother to find me and shatter this illusion?

If she finds me tomorrow—all of the clothes will be made in vain.

The tailors perused the fabric for any aberrations, muttering about hem lengths and fabric choice, before departing. They all complimented my beauty on the way out of the room. I blushed and smiled.

"They do not lie, you know," Hades stated.

My blush deepened. "Thank you."

"We have one more thing to do today. Do you wish to do it before or after lunch?"

"Let's do it before lunch. But after, I'm taking a nap."

He laughed. "Anything you want."

To my surprise, when we walked into the Throne Room, ten or so maids around my age stood in a line, facing us.

"What's happening?" I whispered to Hades.

"You are to choose a personal maid."

"A what?"

"A maid. I have one, so it only fits that you have one, as well."

Hades and I moved down the row, asking them to tell me about themselves. Most said their age, how long they've worked for Hades, and how they would love to be my attendant. Their ages ranged from my age to sixteen. I vetoed most of them because of that—I don't want someone who can barely drive to be my glorified personal assistant. Or I wasn't partial to their attitude—or the glances they gave Hades.

The very last girl did something different, though. "Hello," I greeted. "What's your name?"

"My name is Sudie, miss, and I am a nymph of lilies." She looked only about two years younger than me and spoke in a soft voice. She had long, auburn hair and eyes the color of my hair. She had tan skin, and her head only reached my chest. She was stunning with her shiny hair and straight, white teeth.

That piqued my attention. "Nymph of lilies?"

"Yes, miss. I hear that you like to garden, too, miss."

"I do, in fact. Demeter is my mother." Her eyes lit up with awe. "Hades, I choose Sudie."

"Wonderful. Sudie, you start overmorrow. I will send you your new uniform in the morning."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I will not let you down, miss." She curtsied, grinning.

Hades dismissed the rest of the maids. Some threw me annoyed looks, and I felt more secure with choosing Sudie.

We moved to the Private Dining Room. I devoured my food, eager to go and take a nap. When we got back to Hades' room, I literally jumped into bed. I didn't care that I still wore my clothes. Hades laughed and joined me—minus the airborne action.

Before I truly settled under the blankets, I asked Hades the question that plagued my mind. "Why do you think my father never came to see me?"

He placed a hand on my arm. "Magnolia, why are you thinking such thoughts? Zeus is renowned for his selfishness."

"But... your own family?"

"Magnolia, I am walking proof that the Olympians do not care about anybody but themselves. For years, my family shunned me from Olympus—I do not even have a throne up there! Ask Hephaestus about my sister's warm welcome when Hera found that he was not as good-looking as she wanted."

I nodded, remembering how Hera threw Hephaestus off of Mount Olympus when she saw his disabilities. "So... it's not me?"

I have never seen so much anger from him before this. His eyes lit up with fury, and I swear the room's temperature dropped a few degrees. "Who told you that it is your fault?" he growled. "Your mother?"

"No one. But I assumed that—because why else would someone choose not to visit me...?"

"Magnolia, it is absolutely not your doing. Zeus is a narcissistic bastard that has no love—except for that of himself."

"Thank you," I whispered, "for curving my anxiety. Sometimes, it gets irrational."

"My pleasure, magnolia. Now sleep." He kissed my nose.