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Alexandria
I gently nudge a sleeping Lussi off me, and quietly sheathe my sword. I walk out.
He wakes, crying: “Dia, please, don’t leave me! I can’t bear this alone.”
His ragged sobs follow me up the nine circles and fresh out of Hell, like a crow. I sob, but do not look back. To look back and reply, I would be stuck in Jahonna forever. I ascend the Hades grotto that leads back to Vidagol. My bridal finishing school that Lucifuge presides over awaits me, where the demons live in court intrigue with their brides. Lussi visits every week to preside over his domains, and I attend him in wifely duties. If I did not, my Arcadian bloom would wither; my blood would boil like the Phlegethon. I touch my collar and wince.
The prophets say, if Lussi truly dies, he will be reborn uncursed as Sa’el, and will bring peace. Thus, I play with ways to dispose of my husband, for him to be renewed an Irin. He thinks the prophecy of Sa’el a fallac
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