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)
It’s not long before the other guard returns and it takes greater effort than I’d like to remain composed. How have I stayed here in this filth with my own thoughts for too long a time?
“She is safely secured. Shall the doors be locked?”
The magic is still her capture, I nearly tell him but resist. “No need to lock the doors to your queen,” I tell him instead. When I am ready, I will give her grace in movement.
“Get rid of half the torches down the left side of the hall,” I order him, my voice on the verge of breaking into a shout. “So she’s more willing to go right. Give her access and watch her for her protection only.”
“Do you think she’ll try to escape, my Lord?” the guard asks.
I huff a humorless laugh. Escape? I am not concerned of her ability to escape. She cannot and will not without aid. I am concerned her pleas will leave the Underworld and make their way back to Olympus. Secrecy has been an ally the past few days. But the magic will aid me in her silence.
“No. She needs to learn the ways of our realm. Allow her to reign as she should, and she will find her place beside me herself.” I don’t speak the last thought outloud, like it or not, this is her fucking fate and she cannot outrun it.
I walk away from the halls without thought, with only a black anchor clouding my mind. I do not have a destination in mind. I only want to shed these thoughts with brisk movement, but they will not go.
Persephone… my beautiful queen… what am I to do with you so that you will both rule and love me as I love you?
I exhale sharply, trying to release the disappointment. It has always been strong in me, but that only makes it more difficult to tolerate Persephone’s. She does not have anything to be angry about. The things that have happened to her pale in comparison to the life I had before I ruled the Underworld. She is meant for this. She is no victim. This is a part of her story and her stubbornness turns her blind. If only she would give in and allow fate to move her as it must.
Slowly, a fear creeps in me. Never felt before. I’m quick to acknowledge it and release it, condemning it to the pit of hell where fear belongs.
Minox glides into step next to me, detaching from the shadows without my notice.
“My Lord,” he says.
“Minox,” I say, my teeth gritted. I find I cannot relax them for several beats.
“Where are you going, my Lord?”
“I haven’t decided,” I snap at Minox, though this is not his fault. “I haven’t decided,” I say again, moderating my tone. “Do you require my presence?”
His hands are folded inside his black robe. His steps have not faltered, even once.
Before he can begin a conversation, I whistle, loud and sharp. I should have called for Cerberus long ago. My faithful companion. A few moments pass, and loping footsteps, along with the clink of his collar, grow louder until Cerberus is at my side.
I stop to pet his three heads, stroking between each one in turn until my lungs feel less liable to explode. Cerberus wags his tail and presses two of his snouts into my leg. His black fur shines as a healthy coat.
“Come, Cerberus.”
My dog walks along at my side already soothing the agony of impatience, and Minox and I continue down the wide hallway. Cerberus pauses to sniff at several doorways, but stays close.
It is several minutes before Minox speaks again. He takes a short breath before he does, warning me in advance that he intends to say something I will not like.
"It is my humble suggestion that you do not leave her tonight, my Lord.”
"Excuse me?” This is my realm. I will leave any rooms I wish. I will walk any halls I wish. I will remain absent for as long as I wish.
"I fear she needs your comfort,” Minox says, giving no sign of discomfort.
"And what do I know of comfort?” The hot, twisting sensation that shame always brings settles low in my gut like a pool of acid. For it is the gut of my father that I resided for centuries. Comfort and niceties, social norms… they are not for me. It is not my destiny. The irony that I rule the largest and most delicately balanced realms when I was brought up in dreadful solitude is not lost on the Gods.
Minox knows as well as I do that I am the last person who should dare to offer comfort.
I sat for centuries in the pit of a Titan’s stomach. I sat alone, in darkness, with nothing but darkness to comfort me. The whispers say it is why I am so cruel. And yet they agree with balance. So many often forget the angels were the most successful murderers. They only exist because they were willing to slaughter ruthlessly. They killed for righteousness and all those who observe choose to forget how they came to be and look at only the glory. Those who do not become comfortable with their darkness and blinded by the light they crave. One must see both to understand fully what balance truly means.