Several months after Zeus was conquered.

Persephone took in the forest, felt with her Purpose the heartbeat of the plants surrounding her; their tentative promise to awaken when spring came again. She didn't know if they'd survive the winter, but she had hope.

Unlike some places she'd visited and tried to heal after the grand flood that had covered the earth, the flora and fauna had been extremely receptive to her presence and touch. She was sure if she came here next spring, everything would thrive.

It was unclear if the animals and mortals would make as smooth as a resurgence, but many entities had been working hard to see their healthy return. Even Zeus had pitched in his efforts, though he wasn't as committed as the others. But his unenthused interest helped unruffle a few of the feathers he'd damaged.

Persephone eased back her Purpose and looked around, weary. She'd done so much and had seen enough devastation to last her several more lifetimes.

If not for Demeter's unwavering nerve and her own desire to see the Upperworld righted, Persephone didn't think she'd have made it through all these months.

It wouldn't have been so terrible if she'd been able to see Hades, but she hadn't since he'd returned to the Underworld. What Zeus had done had left his realm in a mess (on top of losing daemons he couldn't in a war that should have never happened), and he hadn't been able to spare a moment to rest, let alone make time for her.

Every part of Persephone ached for him, and when she thought of him, she couldn't focus on anything else for the rest of the day.

So, she'd kept herself busier than she should have to not have a moment to spare longing for Hades. She wasn't always successful, but she believed she'd done a decent job of putting the Upperworld before her desires.

But, as she finished with the forest, Persephone had nothing left to do, and sweet relief flooded her veins; invigorated her like nothing had done for a long while.

With her newfound freedom, should she return to her mother and help her with her tasks?

Or what of Apollo?

Hermes had said the Sun God had had difficulty keeping alive the few mortal children that had been born between the flood and now.

No. No, while noble causes that should interest her, Persephone had had enough for a few days. She needed a break, and she knew where she'd go.

Her latent sense told her of the nearest Underworld tunnel, and it wasn't too far away. She could run there in no time if she wanted.

She didn't hesitate.

Inside the tunnel, Persephone tapped further into her connection to the Underworld and sought the tunnels that would lead her where she wanted to go. Hecate had explained how to manipulate her tunnels in their last conversation.

Now all Persephone wanted was to arrive at a convenient moment.

Hermes had told her the previous week that operations in the Underworld had settled into a more normal routine. Hades should have more time to himself, at least as much as he'd had prior to the flood.

If Hermes spoke the truth or nothing had occurred to disrupt Hades' schedule, then he should be retiring for the night. Hopefully, she'd join him in his bed.

She jogged faster and soon she reached her destination. The tunnel deposited her right under the palace in a compact space Hecate had created to sneak in and out of the palace if there ever came a time she was unwanted. Or whenever she eavesdropped.

A ladder that led to a hatch in the ceiling brought Persephone to a room the servants used to store linen for the second floor—the personal quarters. She closed the hatch and it disappeared. Persephone opened the door to the room, checked the immediate hall, and hurried on quiet feet to Hades' chambers.

She met no one in her journey, for which she was grateful. According to Hermes, word had spread about Persephone being Kore reborn and all the Underworld was desperate to seek the truth. She remembered smiling when he'd told her, sure that Mulstra had told Kakos who she was and in a moment of intense anger, he'd let the secret slip.

Persephone knocked at Hades' doors, soft and hesitant as if she were the staff.

"Yes?" came his intoxicating voice.

Its mere sound ignited her desire and Persephone dropped the pretense of being a servant and threw open the doors. Hades sat at a desk near his bed, writing. When she entered, he whipped around in his chair.

"What is the meaning—Is it you?"

Persephone smiled. "Been dreaming of me?"

Hades rose to his feet and sprinted to her side. He took her in his arms. "Every night."

Persephone touched his face, his hair, his chest. His skin was paler than usual and the black circles under his eyes spoke of how little he slept, but he was every bit as devastating as he'd always been.

"Do I pass inspection?"

"You're more than adequate."

Hades smirked. "The highest of compliments."

Persephone sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. She missed this joking ease she'd had with him, even before she'd found him attractive.

"So." Hades tucked one of her errant curls behind her ear. "Is this just a visit?"

Persephone raised her head. "I have an idea to present to you. I've already gone over it with Mother. She's not happy, but... she'll keep her opinions to herself."

Hades' eyebrow quirked. "All right. I'm curious."

"I'm the Goddess of Spring. I must interact with the Upperworld. I love it here, but my power no longer lies in this realm, at least not most of it."

Hades nodded.

"But I belong with you, and I want to be in the Underworld as much as possible. If you'll agree, I'd like to spend half the year here and the other half on the Upperworld."

Hades mulled it over.

"On one condition," he said.

"What?"

Hades smiled. "Be my wife."

Persephone tilted her head up, her mouth near Hades'. "Mother will hate you more than you can imagine."

"You're worth it," Hades said, and brought their lips together.