Page 27 of A Touch of Chaos

“Clothing is a language,” she said. “It is just as important as the words you speak.”

“And what exactly is this outfit communicating?” Persephone asked.

Sybil brushed a stray piece of her hair behind her ear so that it blended with the elegant sweep of her curls. “It communicates warmth, intelligence…authenticity,” she said. “So that when you apologize, they believe you.”

“Even if I am not sorry?”

Sybil shared a glance with Leuce and sighed. “I know it doesn’t seem fair, Persephone, but Helen’s article has brought your integrity into question, and you must rectify that.”

It seemed like such a foolish thing to be concernedwith given that Harmonia was not healing and Hades was missing, but this was not just about her reputation. It was about the reputation of all gods.

Since Helen had met Theseus, she had launched a media campaign against the Olympians, calling their rule into question, and while Persephone had plenty of issues with the way some of the gods reigned, Triad was far more problematic. They were quick to demand justice when the gods did not act according to their own ideals and claimed to be able to grant what the people wanted—wellness, wealth, and immortality. They were the same desires that had mortals seeking a bargain with Hades at Nevernight, ready to sacrifice their souls in the hope of something better.

But even if Triad’s demigods managed to answer prayers, all they would do was prolong their inevitable fate.

Persephone had learned that the hard way, and so would the mortals who had benefited from Triad’s divine power. The question was how much influence the demigods would hold by the time the truth was discovered.

“You can do this, Persephone,” said Leuce. “Just…be yourself.”

The problem was that being herself meant being angry and unapologetic.

“Leuce and I are going to go check on Harmonia before we leave,” Sybil said.

“Of course,” said Persephone.

When she was alone, she turned from the mirror and crossed to the bar. She poured a glass of whiskey and drank it, swallowing hard against the burn in her throatbefore pouring another. As she downed the second, tears were already blurring her vision.

She let them overwhelm her for a moment, her shoulders shaking before she managed to compose herself. She wiped the tears from her eyes and then poured another glass, taking a deep breath before she brought it to her lips.

“Drowning your sorrows?”

Persephone turned swiftly.

“Aphrodite,” she breathed. Her eyes flitted toward Hephaestus, whom she was also surprised to see. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”

The last time she had seen her was on the battlefield outside Thebes when Ares had launched his gold spear in her direction. Aphrodite had stepped into its path. Persephone would never forget how her back had arched at such an odd angle once pierced or how Hephaestus had bellowed his anger and pain.

The Goddess of Love offered a small smile. “Yes. I am all right.”

Persephone could not help it. She drew the goddess in for a hug. Aphrodite stiffened but soon relaxed and returned the embrace. After a moment, Persephone pulled back.

“What are you doing here?”

“I have come to see my sister.”

Persephone felt the color drain from her face.

“I’m so sorry, Aphrodite,” she said. “I—”

“Do not apologize, Persephone,” Aphrodite said. “If I had known…”

Her voice trailed away, and Persephone knew why she faltered. There was no sense in agonizing over what couldhave been or what they should have known. Things just were, and now they had to deal with the consequences.

Aphrodite took a breath. “You look beautiful,” she said.

Persephone smoothed a hand down her stomach and glanced at her dress.

“I do not feel like myself.”

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