Even in the realm of the Underworld, Aphrodite glowed. It stung Persephone's eyes while the golden crowded deity's heady perfume invaded the dark queen's nostrils. As always, the Goddess of Beauty was intoxicating and she was played that role to the hilt. She cooed her entrancing words in Persephone's ear, ran those carefully cared-for fingertips up and down her arms, and kissed the fading summer freckles on Persephone's shoulders.
It was easy to pretend that this Beauty descended into these feared realms just for her and not for the handsome child playing in her husband's gardens. Oh, how she once longed for these garlanded limbs to hold and stroke her. There was no one on the earthly plains or the heavenly heights that could not admire the sea foam daughter, and by the very ichors that ran through their veins, Kore had been no better.
Persephone knew better now though. Aphrodite came to collect Adonis, not dally with her. Still, everyone must pay a price for a royal audience in these shadowed lands; for there is no such thing as mercy here and freely given generosity must always be examined from all sides. Aphrodite nibbled at the exposed flesh of Persephone's neck as the younger goddess leaned her head back. Nothing was free here, not even this, so Persephone took the bribe.
One could never claim that Aphrodite was not a satisfactory lover at least; she worshipped the Dark Queen's flesh like a fanatical pilgrim who had traveled from the end of the world to fall down in awe at the scared statues. Every kiss, every touch, every nip—all perfectly placed and lovingly bestowed. Nothing was ugly once it went to bed with the Goddess of beauty because under her care everything was transformed into glittering majesty.
One last kiss and a nip at Persephone's thigh and Aphrodite disappeared, off in search of Adonis. Once she collected the boy she would scurry away from this realm as if Hades sent every shade in the place on her tail. Rising slowly, Persephone collected herself, fixing her hair and clothes until she was perfect again. It would be another year before Aphrodite returned, slipping into Persephone's bed before stealing away again, on and on until Adonis became Persephone's forever.
It would be another year before Aphrodite graced her again; Persephone smiled, dark lips turning up in a knowing smile.
She could be patient. After all, what was a year to the Queen of the Dead?