Chapter 3

From that day, Minthe and I were at war.

Not over Hades. I want to be clear about that.

It was about dignity.

Whatever I had once felt for that man, whatever foolish love had bound me to him in our first life — I did not come to his house for him. I came because I had nowhere else to go. And having come, I found I was owed at least the basic respect due to someone who had built the ground he stood upon.

I had sustained him when he was nothing. The House of Selen had funded his rise. I would not be treated as a beggar in the halls I had helped to fill with light.

So when she docked my provisions, I went to the treasury steward and argued my case.

When she spread whispers about me among the serving nymphs, I confronted her directly.

Every time, I was overruled.

Hades's law was simple: Minthe's word was final.

Once, she accused me of stealing her golden hairpin — made a scene that rattled the entire palace. I uncovered the truth within an afternoon: one of her own handmaidens had mislaid it. I brought the evidence before Hades and laid it out, clear and incontrovertible.

He was silent for a long time.

Then he said, "Sister, she is young. She does not always think before she speaks. Please — do not hold it against her."

I looked at him for a long moment.

I felt something shift in me.

When he had been a forgotten and powerless wanderer, I had shielded him from every slight. I had stood in front of him when others mocked him, and refused to let anyone diminish what I believed he could become.

And now, enthroned and magnificent, he asked me to absorb every wound his wife inflicted and repay her with patience and grace.

I began to understand that the world runs not on love, but on what is convenient. On what men are willing to protect when it costs them something.

The worst came when Minthe poisoned me.

It was not meant to kill. Only to humiliate — to leave me doubled over, weak and gasping, during a gathering of divine households. A small cruelty, carelessly deployed.

When I discovered the source, something in me finally broke.

I crossed the palace in three strides and struck her across the face.

She screamed. She ran to Hades.

That evening, Hades came to the east wing.

He told me I must kneel before her and beg her forgiveness.

I am Persephone of the House of Selen. My knees bend for the sky, for the earth, for my parents. For no one else.

I refused.

So Hades gave the order.

His attendants surrounded me. They took up the iron-banded staves kept by the door.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

The blows came down across my legs, and the pain finally drove me to my knees.

Through blurring vision, I saw Minthe standing over me, and the corner of her mouth was curved into a smile.

That night, Hades came alone to the east wing.

He looked at my legs, which had lost all feeling. He sighed and reached for my hand.

I pulled it away.

He sat in silence for a moment. Then he spoke.

"Sister. I am sorry for today. Truly."

"But Minthe — she saved my life, once. I swore an oath to her. I swore I would never allow her to suffer."

I looked at him.

Saved your life. That is the coin she holds.

And who carried you home through the winter storm when you collapsed, starving, in the road? Who sat with you through three nights of fever? Who poured the last of the family's tungsten steel into the raging fire to forge the most resilient weapon for you?

What coin do I hold?

I did not say it. I was too tired.

The cold and the injury worked together, and I sickened. Each day I grew weaker. The finest healers of Olympus came, and none of them could turn it back.

The day I died, snow fell beyond the window like a blessing I no longer wanted.

Hades knelt beside my bed, gripping my hand as though he could hold me to this world through sheer will.

"Sister," he said. "Forgive me. This life — I failed you completely."

"If the Fates grant another — I swear I will bring you home properly. With ceremony, with honor. I will give you your name."

I looked at him. My heart was perfectly still.

What had I answered?

I remembered.

I used the last of my strength to pull my hand free, finger by finger.

"Hades," I whispered. "In the next life — let us never meet at all."

I closed my eyes.

I heard him cry out behind me — a raw, torn sound, the voice of a god stripped to something human and helpless.

And then I woke up.

Back at the beginning.

Standing on the temple-house balcony, the Golden Apple warm in my palm.