Dull. The throne room, the same as it had been for centuries, was dully lit, unspectacular in every way. It had been built to be the simplest of rooms, plain and empty; Hades was its only significant feature, and he nearly blended with the darkness, penetrating as it was. Most of his nights were spent patrolling the river, waiting for new subjects to arrive – however, upon Kore's arrival he had made no movement since she had gone to sleep.
Demeter would panic soon, but she could not enter his realm. He had not been a heartless man, but he could feel no remorse for what he had done. There was no reason to. It was not as if he had come to the girl as a looming monster waiting in the shadows to overpower her; he had been gentle like a lover, and she had accepted his offer with almost no hesitation. He had never anticipated that.
The god of the underworld slumped in his chair. He had never been considered a kind man; he had been feared for as long as men had known of existence. It had been his fate to live alone in the underworld as a judge rather than a provider, and that was how he would always be known.
Yet she had walked with him.
She had given him her trust, and when he took her away from her home, she had accepted it as a product of his loneliness. She had given him a chance to have something more – a chance at love, if she could stay long enough to permit it. He would not lose her; he could not lose her.
He would have to feed her.