Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
The thrones themselves are decadent. With velvet lining in a deep red set within the carved wood. The backs are at least ten feet high and the edges of the wood carved and touched with fire to give a burned flamed look to them. Both of equal height, but flames varying between the two so that it appears the fire starts from the left throne and carries to the right. It is quite obvious the throne at the left is newly made. Its wood fresh and the red velvet plush.
My throne, I nearly whisper.
It feels incredibly real, this procession. It feels like I am meant to be at Hades’s side, with guards trailing after us.
Or am I only tricking myself so I can cling to bravery?
I do not know.
“You will speak as you please, you will show the audience that you are here to rule, understood?” he murmurs as he leads me up the steps to the thrones.
“I will,” I answer him quickly and not thinking.
“You almost sound like you believe that, Persephone. Be careful,” he warns. “Our thoughts are powerful, and yours even more so.”
This, said so casually, renders me speechless once again.
Should I tell him about my vision of my mother? About her threats and her agony of losing me.
How much time for questions do I have before we will be in court and passing judgment on the souls of the Underworld? Before he shows the world that he thinks of me as his queen?
In the end, I cannot form the question, and my heart beats too hard for me to speak.
I keep my mother’s warning to myself. For I do not know what is real and what is only in my mind, but at this moment I stand tall beside my lover and attempt to be his equal in a room that feels so very familiar and yet one I do not know I belong in.
HADES
Let word spread that she stands beside me with a rightly deserved crown. Let Hekate hear whispers from the army of the dead. I pray it travels to every realm. With purpose and a renewed sense of thrill, I lead her to her throne.
Entering my court has never felt like this. Not once.
The pride is unexpected but as is the anxiousness of their reaction.
Stepping through the doors with my queen at my side is unlike every other time I can recall, and the sensation is not entirely comfortable. Mostly, this is on my own behalf.
With a sharp gasp, I turn to look at her. Fucking beautiful. She’s breathtaking in the crown made for her.
I take great pleasure in Persephone’s company. I would prefer to see her spread out on the sheets beneath me, but out of the corner of my eye, she is all regal beauty.
Whispers rise as we move toward the dais.
The gathered attendants lean close to one another, speaking in low voices or whispers. Though I cannot hear the words themselves, the tone is audible.
The tone is kind. The tone is slightly awed, as if they are surprised to see her at my side.
Many of these attendants have seen Persephone out on the path. The few who I have allowed in the castle. They have come to like her. To respect her.
Now they will stand in astonishment, as I do every time I walk into the rooms we share.
It is like watching the sun rise in the realm of the mortals, or Elysium come down to meet the darkest pits of hell. It would be difficult to explain Persephone’s beauty to one who had never seen such things. They might think, in their ignorance, that it was nothing more than exaggeration.
It is not.
Persephone holds tighter to my arm, and we step up onto the dais at the opposite side of the room. Two thrones wait for us. I guide Persephone into the one on the left, if one is facing the dais.
I take my seat, and Persephone is at my right hand, where she should have been before and will remain. I will ensure it.
She is trembling. Nerves, I think. I brush my knuckles along the back of her hand and she glances at me. Her beautiful eyes wide and full of awe.
“Your kingdom awaits my Queen,” I tell her and she offers me a short nod in acknowledgement. I can practically hear her heart racing from here. There’s nothing to concern her. She will participate as she’d like to and nothing more today.
Persephone’s hand slides into mine atop the thick armrest between our thrones.
She’s here, my heart says, though my eyes can see this perfectly well. She is here, and today you need not remember all those eternities you spent alone.
“We will begin,” I announce, my voice reaching the very back of the hall.
Voices rise slightly, but then the first of the new souls is brought in, and we fall into the well-worn routine.