was to go back to the Underworld. She was tired of living here already, and she still had a few more months to go.
“Why?” she asked. “There’s nothing for either of us in Olympus. I’m certain they can party without us.”
Demeter pouted. “There was a time when you used to beg me to go to Olympus. What happened?”
She picked up her book again and thumbed it open to the page she’d left off on. “I married an Olympian. Kind of ruins the image of Mount Olympus, don’t you think?”
Not a chance in Tartarus would she tell her mother what had happened the last time they’d gone to Olympus. Demeter would do something foolish, like try to start a war with Poseidon for touching her daughter. When in reality, it was merely the culture of the Olympians. They took what they wanted. Their lives revolved around what they desired and had nothing to do with the desires of others.
Demeter snorted in response to her quip. “I didn’t marry an Olympian. I wasn’t that foolish, unlike my daughter apparently.” She snapped her fingers. “Come on then, we don’t have any time for you sit and dally.”
“I thought you said we were going to Olympus later?”
“No, I said we were going to Olympus now.”
Apparently, Demeter didn’t want to give her daughter enough warning to look the part. Persephone knew this was just another way to control her. Her mother likely thought if she showed up to Olympus in a plain peplos that the other gods would think she wasn’t much of a leader in the Underworld. They’d support Demeter’s claims that Persephone needed to be under her mother’s wing for a little while longer.
Taking a page from Hades’ book, she waved a hand over the fabric of her clothing. It disappeared into a glorious gown of black with silver stars decorating the hem. The same stars Hades himself had given her all those months ago.
“Shall we?” she said. Quirking an eyebrow, she waited for her mother to open the portal to Olympus.
Together, they stepped out onto the glorious clouds that surrounded the peak of the mountain. Golden columns suggested they were in Zeus’s private temples, again. Although who else would hold a party where all the Olympians could gather?
Persephone immediately made her way to the tables where there was food and drink. Her mother trailed along behind her. “Persephone, darling, why don’t you have something a little less...”
Demeter stopped talking the moment Persephone picked up a glass of nectar. She would not have something less alcoholic and no, she absolutely would not abstain from drinking. Not when she had to be here, with the Olympians, who she already wasn’t interested in talking to.
Her mother sighed and tossed up her hands. “It’s like I don’t have any control anymore whatsoever.”
“You don’t,” she replied with a raised brow.
With a flouncing movement, Demeter stalked away from her daughter and headed off to the other gods. Likely to complain about her daughter and all the work she didn’t appreciate. Children were such terrible little beasts, weren’t they?
At least that meant Persephone could drink in peace.
Of course, it didn’t take long for another goddess to bother her. At least this one was Artemis, who strode over to her side as though she were walking into war. Persephone had never seen the dark storm of emotion on her friend’s face before.
“Where have you been?” Artemis snapped.
“The Underworld.” Persephone tried hard to smile and not glare like she had a bone to pick with the huntress. “In case you didn’t hear, I got married.”
“I was there when he took you. That doesn’t excuse you leaving like you had no responsibilities here.” Artemis reached behind her and picked up a drink of nectar for herself. She tossed back the entire glass in one swift gulp.
Perhaps that was the first warning sign for Persephone. Or maybe it was that Artemis was drinking at all.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“A lot has changed since you skipped out on me,” Artemis snarled in response.
Persephone didn’t know what to say. Artemis wasn’t exactly the type of person who was interested in talking about her emotions. She was more likely to fight with someone than to open up about how she was feeling.
She could ask about her friends. Getting Artemis to talk about others would give her an opportunity to use their hardships instead of her own.
Persephone sipped her drink and quietly asked, “How’s Pallas?”
“Dead.”
The word rocked through her mind. Dead? Pallas couldn’t be dead. That