Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Yes, my Lord,” says Minox and glides away more quickly than he came. Though I cannot be sure I saw correctly, I believe there is a trace of a smile on his face as he goes.
Persephone
The darkest of nights allowed for me to creep about before any soul knew I’d returned. With the morning light, I prepare to see my mother first. Nervousness pricks the tips of my fingers. I imagine she realized I left of my own free will and that those who carry whispers from the Underworld to Olympus would tell her I sat by his side and ruled.
The soft breeze blows a stray hair from my face as I look out into the pale blue sky leading the way for the sunrise. My mother is not so easily seen from my rooms, but I can see her tending to a garden. Her sage robes are adorned with a wheat wreath. She grows poppies and plucks them into a wicker basket. I imagine the spell she wishes to cast knowing the properties of poppies. The color matters of course. And the deep red narrows it down. It won’t be for sleep or dreams as those would be blue. Love, fertility, or a prophetic dream if she places them under her pillow.
My heart breaks wondering if it’s a spell for me. If it is, I hope she knows her magic is powerful, but I’d always return to her without the pull of her spell.
“My queen!” Beatrice cries from behind me, startling me and pulling me from my thoughts. With a quiet gasp, she shuts the door to my rooms hastily behind her. “You have returned,” she rushes the words out with disbelief.
“I have—” I swallow the lump in my throat and regain my composure. “I didn’t plan to be long; I do wish I’d had more time and thought so I could have prepared you.”
She bows her head, her hands clasped together and pressing against the cotton apron she wears over her simple cotton gown that falls to the floor. “All is well now that you are home,” she responds with ease. When she lifts her gaze to me, I note the dark circles, and guilt rises once again for leaving in secret. I know she worried. So many left with questions. I will do everything in my power to never do that again.
“What can I prepare for you my lady? Tea, nectar, or wine?” she offers.
There isn’t a thing I care to eat or drink until I’ve spoken to the one person who I’m certain I’ve hurt worse than Beatrice by leaving unannounced. “I saw my mother in the garden. Will she be in soon?”
“No.” Beatrice’s eyes go wide. Her fingers tug on one another as she speaks. “She’s been tending to the gardens since she discovered you were not here.”
I give her an apologetic look and take her hand. “Is everything all right?”
“It is all right for the moment, but I cannot say it will remain that way for long.”
“What happened when I was gone?” I swallow hard, guilt churning in my gut.
“Zeus spoke to your mother.” Beatrice takes my hand and guides me to my changing room. The gown I wore to leave the Underworld will not be the one I wear to speak to my mother. Beatrice seems to understand that, because she begins helping me out of it. “It was a spectacle, both of them blaming each other. He convinced her to give you time.” She lays the black gown aside and slips a clean robe over my head. It’s blush in color and soft and elegant. “She has given orders not to disturb her.”
“Yes,” I agree, watching myself in the mirror, wishing I could find Hades yet again within mine rather than my father’s scry. “I will rest a bit more, then. I certainly need it,” I add and then take in a steadying breath.
“Do you need food? Drink?”
“Both please,” I answer. My body hums with the change in scenery. It is like having a candle lit inside me. The powers I can access here carry a different sensation than those of the Underworld, and I notice it most when I have just arrived in either realm. It’s heady. As if my magic misses me.
Beatrice slips out of my rooms and returns a moment later with fruits and a honeyed nectar. I have both at the table and find myself tired and yawning as soon as I’m finished. I’ve been restless and it’s showing.
Beatrice leaves me, and I climb into bed.
Tired as I am, I cannot sleep.
The early morning is quiet, with the waxing moon not yet a sliver still lingering. Even so, my mind will not quiet. I toss and turn for some time before I sit up and look toward the grate.