Page 25 of The Dread Queen's Bargain

Nearly every god in the pantheon was packed inside, and several more obscure immortals Makaria wouldn’t know. Persephone immediately caught sight of Dionysus, seated on Zeus’s throne, holding an amphora nearly as big as he was in his lap. Everyone was holding a cup or a chalice, and a fountain in the center of the room was flowing with wine.

The festivities of Dionysus were one of the few times that his wilder group of acolytes were allowed on Olympus, further packing the hall with a myriad of wood nymphs, satyrs, and forest sprites.

Persephone walked inside more confidently than she felt, Makaria following close behind. As soon as they crossed the threshold, drinks appeared in their hands. It took only a few seconds for Persephone to pick up on Demeter’s presence in the great hall, and she slipped away from Makaria’s side.

She’ll be fine. Persephone assured herself. As long as Dionysus is in that seat tonight instead of Zeus, nothing untoward will happen to any man or woman at the festival.

Demeter was standing in a corner, glaring at another goddess Persephone couldn’t see. Wisps of green smoke curled around her ankles, a prominent warning that Demeter was ready to strike at a moment’s notice. She wore a himation entirely in shades of green and emerald, embellishing her lithe frame. Her dark brown hair was curled into several braids wrapped around her head, adorned with wheat stalks and tiny blossoms. Persephone couldn’t deny her mother was beautiful—but it was a haunting, empty beauty like a cold, barren mountaintop covered in snow.

Persephone’s heart rate doubled in her chest, but she forced her shoulders back and stood upright. She cut through the party and walked towards Demeter with determination, refusing to let her mother intimidate her for a moment longer.

Think of everything she’s kept from you, Persephone reminded herself. Think of the life you could have lived for the past thousand years if Demeter had told you about your power.

Persephone reveled in the utter shock on Demeter’s face when she realized her daughter was approaching her. Demeter had volatile moods on a good day but exerted extreme amounts of energy to keep a calm and collected manner in public. Persephone grinned at the sight of her mother’s mouth dropping open and her eyes threatening to pop out of her skull. Demeter stormed towards Persephone and grabbed her wrist, yanking her into a corner.

“What are you doing here?” Demeter reproached, glancing over her shoulder to see if anyone had spotted Persephone. “Do you understand the damage control I’ve had to do since that little stunt you pulled with Hades? Tell me it’s not fucking true, Kore.” Demeter hissed, her long fingernails digging into Persephone’s skin.

“Mother,” Persephone’s lip curled as she yanked her hand out of her mother’s grip, “I have told you once, and I will tell you again—it’s highly inaccurate for you to call me ‘Kore.’”

“It’s ‘Kore’ or ‘whore’.” Demeter cornered Persephone and blocked her view of the rest of the party with her body. “I’d say ‘only the gods know what you have been up to in the Underworld,’ but it’s true—all of the gods know what you got up to in the Underworld.” Demeter’s eyes flashed with anger as the smoke around her ankles flared up around her body. Demeter quickly tampered with the surge of power and plastered a brilliant smile on her face, patting her hair for any flyaways. In an instant, she was the picture-perfect goddess of the harvest again.

“Oh, well,” Demeter hissed through perfectly white teeth, “at least you’re back now, and we can put this whole mess behind us.”

“No, no, we can’t.” Persephone smiled mockingly, crossing her arms over her chest “Hades is my fiance, Demeter, and the sooner you accept that, the better.”

Demeter’s entire face flushed beet red.

“You cannot be serious. I know he told Zeus about some mess with the pomegranates, but you wouldn’t be so stupid as to eat anything while you were down there.” Demeter looked Persephone up and down, her icy gaze evaluating every inch of her daughter. “Although, I suppose you’ve never been one to skip a meal.”

Persephone blinked back tears but refused to look away from Demeter. Demeter had always chipped away at Persephone’s confidence by commenting on her body, what she ate, and how she looked. Even if she were relaxing with nymphs in the fields, if she weren’t trussed up in formal attire, her mother would take issue with how she was dressed. Demeter simultaneously kept Persephone in short tunics that were more appropriate for children, creating a bizarre paradox where she wanted a beautifully maintained, attractive doll.

Persephone stuck her chin up and maintained steady eye contact with Demeter. “It’s called being a goddess of fertility, Mother. I know it’s something you don’t understand since my father had to turn himself into a snake to sleep with you.”

Demeter raised her hand quickly as if to strike Persephone but dropped her palm at the last minute when she realized where they were. The party raged around them, and the guests were already so drunk that they couldn’t see the confrontation between Persephone and Demeter.

Demeter put her hand on her heart in a fake show of sincerity. “You were a monster when you were born, Persephone. Your father was barely divine and not worth a second glance.” Her words were icy. “Did you know that? You were hardly a girl at all. I wouldn’t look at you. Neither would your father. I wouldn’t for a long time either. You had a monstrous form, and when those fucking Fates…” Demeter’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and she stopped herself.

“Don’t stop on my account.” Persephone waved her hand and encouraged her mother to go on. “I already know about the Fates’ prophecy. How long did you think it would take before that caught up with me?”

Demeter’s lips pulled into a thin line, and her nostrils flared as she attempted to control her breathing. She kept looking over her shoulder as though her main concern was still not her daughter in front of her but the image she was giving off at all times.

“Tell me,” Persephone demanded. “Did you think nothing would ever happen? How could you think a prophecy like that would stay dormant forever? I have the powers of the Underworld—”

“No, you don’t!” Demeter snapped, covering her ears. “You don’t. It was a mistake. It was a mistake.”

Persephone shook her head slowly. “Your arrogance is astounding. Everything the Fates have said since the dawn of time has come true. I’ve always been meant to go to the Underworld, rule there, and be with Hades. You thought by calling me Kore and keeping me in a girl’s clothes that you’d keep me from my destiny? You useless—”

Demeter delivered a sharp slap to Persephone’s cheek, cutting her off.

“Don’t you dare attempt even to understand what I’ve been through,” Demeter sneered. “I didn’t touch you for seven days when you were born.” Her eyes narrowed as she got closer to Persephone, gripping her shoulders and shoving her further into the corner. “You were a freak of the Underworld, a tiny thing with a crown of bones. I should’ve left you on the side of the mountain, but the Fates made sure I couldn’t.”

Persephone was breathing hard through her nose, struggling and failing to keep the tears at bay as Demeter unraveled the story of the Fates’ prophecy.

“It was the first time the Fates had left the Underworld in anyone’s memory.” Demeter continued, cursing under her breath. “They told us what you would be. Not only a consort to Hades but the Dread Queen herself. The ruler of the Underworld.” Demeter scoffed, releasing her grip on Persephone. “They said you’d be even more powerful than him. Tell me, daughter, does his heart even beat in his dead chest? Because on the side of this very fucking mountain,” Demeter hissed, “I looked at you and I felt dead.”

Persephone’s mind whirled with the revelations, but she forced herself to stay composed. She calmly wiped her tears and leveled her gaze at Demeter. She raised a single brow and shook her head slowly, feeling the dark power in her blood beginning to boil.

“Then why do you care if I return?” Persephone questioned. “Why not send me to the Underworld the second I was born if you hated the sight of me so much?”

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