Chapter 2

His new bride, Minthe, was less than pleased.

Even under the pretense that I was merely Hades's benefactress — his honored Sister, his childhood guardian — she looked at me as though I were a splinter lodged in her divine flesh.

At first, I could not fully understand it.

After all, it was Hades who had insisted on bringing me in. Hades who had defied gossip and whispers to install me in the east wing of his divine palace. By rights, her fury should have been aimed at him.

But that is the way of things, even among the immortals. When a woman cannot reach the god who wronged her, she turns to the only other target within range.

I will say this for Minthe: her methods were not subtle.

She cut my allowances. She reduced my household to near nothing — jewels, fine cloth, even the most basic provisions. She left me stripped of comfort in what was, by all appearances, a palace of abundance.

I might have endured it in silence.

But the winter came, and she withheld the sacred fire.

The eternal flame that warms an immortal's wing was simply... not refilled. My handmaiden fell gravely ill with the cold. I had no choice but to go and ask.

I found Minthe seated beside a roaring hearth, wrapped in furs, cracking open the roasted chestnuts that Hades had prepared for her with his own hands.

She did not look up when I entered.

"Oh — Sister has come to call," she said, her voice airy and pleasant. "Have the servants been neglecting you?"

I kept my tone even. "The eternal flame in the east wing has gone dark. My handmaiden has taken ill."

She laughed softly, tossing a shell into the fire. "Do forgive us, Sister. My lord has only recently secured his throne. There are so many offerings to make, so many alliances to maintain — the household has simply run short."

She looked up then, and her eyes were full of challenge.

"I thought surely you, of all people, would understand. You were so generous with the House of Selen's resources for so many years. Surely you don't mind extending that generosity a little longer?"

Her smile curved. "After all — Sister is a guest here. One ought to be grateful, ought one not?"

Every word was a blade dressed in silk.

I opened my mouth to answer.

"My lord has returned."

Hades stepped through the door, still wearing his traveling cloak, snow-dusted and wind-cold from the outer reaches of Olympus.

He saw me. He paused.

Minthe rose immediately and folded herself into his arms.

"My lord," she said, her voice gone soft and wounded. "Sister has come to scold me for the household accounts. I have tried so hard to manage wisely, but there simply isn't enough —"

Hades frowned.

He looked at me.

"Sister," he said, with the careful patience of someone managing a delicate situation, "Minthe bears a great many burdens. Please be patient a little longer. I will see to it that your needs are met."

I stared at him.

He had the power to rearrange the very stars. And this was his answer.

I said nothing.

I said only: "Of course."

And I walked back to the dark and frozen east wing alone.