Mag-log in
That night, I returned to the realm of spring.As the dawn gate carried me away from the old city, I watched the clouds fold beneath the chariot and let out a long breath. That place, and that father and son, no longer belonged to me.I was going home.Dorian came to meet me at the passage gate. He asked no questions. He only took my travel case, drew me gently against his side, and said, “You’re home. Liana has been waiting for you all day.”The moment we entered the house, Liana ran toward me like a little burst of sunlight and threw herself around my legs.“Mommy!”I knelt and gathered her into my arms. Her hair smelled faintly of milk and summer fruit, and the needle that had been lodged in my heart since I saw Eren finally stopped hurting.“Did you miss me?”“Yes,” she said, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing my cheek. “Every day.”Dorian stood by the door, watching us with a quiet smile.Later, my mentor told me Hades had contacted him after all. Eren had begun proper t
“Lord Hades,” I said evenly, “I am the mind-healer assigned to Eren’s case. Please leave the room. I need to speak with my patient alone.”He did not seem to hear me.He took a step toward me, unsteady, his eyes fixed on my face as if I might vanish if he blinked.“You came back,” he murmured. “You really came back.”He reached out.I stepped aside and opened the door.“Please escort Lord Hades out,” I told the attendants in the corridor. “He is interfering with treatment.”Only when two attendants came forward did Hades seem to wake from whatever trance had taken him. He struggled at once, his voice rising with something close to desperation.“Persephone, you cannot leave. Eren has been waiting for you.”His voice broke.“Five years. He has not called anyone Mother in five years. You heard him just now. He only called for you.”I turned back.Eren still sat by the window, tears streaming silently down his face. This time, he did not call me Mother again. He only looked at me with holl
Five years later, I could barely remember the color of the Underworld sky.After I left, I spent a full year rebuilding the life I had abandoned. I studied again, applied to the Academy of Apollo, and finished the training I had once given up to become queen of the dead.No one there knew I was Persephone.To them, I was simply a quiet, diligent student with a gift for understanding wounded children. I liked that. For the first time in years, my name did not come with a throne, a husband, or a child waiting for me in a dark palace.It belonged only to me.After I completed my training, I met Dorian.He was my mentor’s favorite pupil, gentle and steady, the kind of man whose presence made a room feel safer. There was no grand tragedy between us, no desperate vow, no fate written in thunder. We simply spent our days beside each other until being together felt natural.Three years ago, we married. A year later, our daughter was born.We named her Liana.Sometimes, when I held her in the w
Eren’s crying cut into Hades like a dull blade.Only then did he realize that he had never truly learned how to comfort his own child. When Persephone was there, such things had never fallen to him. If Eren woke crying in the night, she was the one who went to him. If fever took him, she stayed awake until dawn. If he refused his medicine or pushed away his food, she found a way to coax him back.Hades had only ever known how to be present for the easy moments.Now Persephone was gone, and he did not even know how to make his son stop crying.“Mother doesn’t want me anymore…”Eren sobbed until his voice broke. His face was wet, his breath uneven, and his small hands clutched at the front of his tunic as if something inside him hurt.Hades crouched and reached for him.Eren jerked away at once. Fear widened his eyes.“It was you,” he cried, pointing at Hades. “You made Mother leave. You and Nympha.”The words fell apart into another sob. He turned and ran upstairs, slamming the chamber
Hades stayed at the Temple of Asclepius for a full day and night. By the time he returned to the palace of the Underworld, evening had settled over the black halls.When he pushed open the obsidian doors, he looked toward the main hall out of habit. Persephone was not there.Usually, she would be waiting beneath the lamps with a cup of pomegranate tea kept warm beside her hand. Tonight the hall was dark, and only a thin line of light spilled from Eren’s chamber upstairs.Hades frowned and lit the lamps.The table had not been cleared. The ambrosia figs prepared for Persephone’s birthday rite sat untouched on their silver tray, the spring candles had burned low and crooked, and the cup of pomegranate wine for their fifth marriage anniversary had gone dark.He looked away and went upstairs.Eren was in his chamber, staring into a viewing tabletthe dissolution decree of the marriage. Around him lay empty shells of honeyed fruit, sugared lotus petals, and jars of sweet cream Persephone wo
Hades did not return that night.I had expected it. Whenever Nympha was taken to the Temple of Asclepius, he would remain by her sickbed until the healers themselves asked him to leave.At dawn, I left the bedchamber with a small travel case in my hand. The corridor was quiet, and Eren’s door had been left slightly open.I meant to pass by.Still, I stopped.When Eren was born, I had nearly spent half my divinity keeping him alive. He had come into the world frail and cold, and I had raised him with my own hands. I measured his healing draughts, warmed his blankets with springfire, sang him through fevered nights, and sat beside his cradle until even the shades outside grew silent.After today, none of that would be mine to do.I pushed his door open softly.Eren was already awake. He sat on the carpet, arranging three little clay figures before a toy altar. One wore a dark cloak. One had flowers in her hair. The smallest one stood between them.He glanced up at me and said, “Good morn