Ive been thinking about doing a fanfiction on this for a long time now, about two different kinds of stories, all encompassed in one twisted up, bent out of shape Greek myth. The one with Persephone and Hades. It's probably been done and polished already, however, I hope you still give this one a chance! :)

Mary

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times- Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities.

"Did you hear, he's going to bring her here?" The maid sweeping the Upholstery alongside me, whispers. I pretend I don't hear.

"Well...did you?" She persists, sweeping the shelf in long strokes.

I sigh. "Yes. I heard, Laura."

Laura grins, a cheeky smile playing on her full lips. Her blonde hair is stick straight and falls down to her waist. "She's so lucky to belong with the Master. I hear he fucks like a Trojan."

I blink hard, and then swallow, turning around, and making work of the China pot that I have already cleaned. Twice. Laura, meanwhile, continues, oblivious to my discomfort, which isn't a surprise. I'm handy at hiding my emotions, blending into the background. It helps that I'm more than unnoticeable, when it comes to matters of the countenance.

"She's so lucky..." Laura continues. "I wonder if she knows she's lucky."

"I'm sure she does." I say, scrubbing at one particular spot on the China, and not really seeing any difference in the sheen, after several strokes of the cloth.

Laura clears her throat and leans in, conspicuously, like a green spot in the midst of a white background. "Apparently, she doesn't. They say, she's been forced to be with him. Something to do with Pomegranates."

I turn to face her, China forgotten. "I'm sorry, what?"

Laura's smiling a cat that ate the proverbial canary. "They say she ate some of the Pomegranates from the Garden of the Damned. Lord Dain has forced her to be with him, because he needs an heir, a respectable one, from the Royal Lineage." Her voice lowers to a whisper as she leans in conventionally. "They say she resists him."

I smile at Laura and she smiles back, obviously missing the bitter tinge of my lips. Her hair hangs over one shoulder, falling around her waist. I feel drab in comparison to her, my hair coiled back in a tight knot at the base of my neck, and covered with a dirty cloth, so it doesn't get in the way of the cleaning. And the cooking. When I spot my countenance in the mirror above, I see a subservient, background Maid. Nothing more. And I've never regretted such a feat, until up about five years ago, when The last King became replaced with Lord Dain.

Up until a few years, I wouldn't have chosen to be anyone else. But that was before I fell in love with the one person that would never be mine. The Lord of the Underworld, Hades.

Or, Dain Odessey, as he is known to his subjects.

I school my features into a pleasant expression, plain and straight, as Laura continues to talk. "They say she comes from the Land of the Living."

I open my mouth to reply something caustic, such as, it is no surprise, considering The King himself comes from the Land of the Living, when I'm interrupted by a couple of gasps around us, from the other servants, and Laura and I turn, to face a groups of servants all staring down the Grand Vestibule.

To see the Master himself walk down the Parlour. And my heart almost leaps out of my chest at the sight of him.

He is not a conventional King. The Legacy of Hades is passed down generation by generation, and Lord Dain had come from the Land of the Living, originally, his features, classically handsome, but...different.

He has black hair, which falls straight down to his collar, a slight fringe falling across his forehead. High cheekbones, lightly tanned skin. Perfect in every way. But odd, in every other. For, he has strange metal bars above his eyebrows, and a piercing on his lip and tongue. Strange markings on his beautiful skin. Never seen before. And his eyes...

One is green, and the other is blue.

He often wears nothing but black, black, heavy looking clothes, black boots. His talk is far from regal and his words and manner, he speaks in prose. He is far from Kingly.

But when he commands, he commands like a Master. And when he speaks his words are weighed down with a thousand promises of the fiercest of retributions should one disobey.

"Servants." Lord Dain says, a dark eyebrow raising. His accent is different, his vowels elongated, prose almost sigh inducing. His stance is unthreatening, he leans his body against a pillar, and his body takes up space. He is large, well muscled but not overly bulky, the markings stand out on his arms, and a small smile plays on his face.

"I want you to welcome my new Bride, Sephy Sikowitz to the Realms. Treat her like one of your own."

And then he sweeps a mocking, regal bow towards us. We bow back, the notion not as shocking as if would have been had we not been acquainted with the Kings' manner beforehand. Boots moving, quick as a flash, the expert archer he is, the King sweeps aside to introduce a young looking girl, on the verge of womanhood, she looks to say, nineteen, perhaps twenty.

But that is not what catches my eye. And the eyes of all the servants around me.

The girl, Sephy Sikowitz, is beautiful in an unconventional way, a way that isn't easily manoeuvred by other women, although it has been attempted. Her skin is a light golden, hair a darker shade of yellow, and falling down her back is soft tawny waves. She wears no rouge, or kohl around her soft green eyes. She is perfectly delicate, with rosy lips, smooth skin, and the delicate sensibility of a fragile flower.

She is the wife of Lord Dain, King of the Underworld.

Queen of the Damned.