Page 14 of The Queen & the King

I glance at the primordial as I rip off the green wrapping. I open it, and I take a moment to understand what I’m seeing. There are two long, twisted pieces of bone nestled almost lovingly in the yellow box. The scent of roses in a dense fog hits me, and realization follows. These are Persephone’s horns.

When I explode this time, I take half the palace with me.

1 The Nightmare & The Daydream Chapter 4

Ten

Persephone

THE SOOTHING BREEZE AGAINST MY NECK IS THE ONLY UPSIDEin having my hair pulled back into this tight bun.

Don’t complain, Persephone. Or she’ll only make it tighter.

I look down at my small patch of daisies. They are a reward for my good behavior during my outing this morning. Mother came with me this time, and I stayed by her side, looking at the ground the whole time. Her threatening gaze darted around, bouncing off everyone we passed, her body tightly coiled with tension. I kept my cool, and I did what I used to do as a child when I was trying to behave like her little perfect princess. I keep my eyes down but angle my chin in a way that is flattering and feminine. My posture is perfect, shoulders back and spine straight. It’s an effort to stop myself from swaying my hips as I walk, and I wonder when I started doing so. I have no memory of ever doing that as I walked before. To keep my eyes from straying, I identified flower breeds silently in my head in both English and Latin. I recalled one interesting fact about each, the exercise centering me.

On our return, my mother pointed to a pitiful patch of withered flowers. It is my patch. She poisoned it as a punishment for what she deemed as my misbehavior, forcing me to watch them all die. This time will be different. I will behave. I will protect them.

With my powers, I transformed the debris of the wilted flowers into mulch for the new and began planting a bed of daisies. It took only a moment for them to grow into seedlings and another minute to become small-budded flowers. Soon, they will be strong and proud. The petals are a brilliant white with sunshine yellow at their centers. There is such joy radiating from them.

“Persephone?” I lift my head to look at the approaching man. I’ve seen him before, on my last outing.

I smile up at him kindly, still feeling the remnants of happiness from planting such a beautiful patch of daisies.

“Yes?” I say, standing.

“I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself the other day. I’m Helios.”

I tilt my head, studying him. His bronzed skin glows so brilliantly. I pull off my gardening gloves, holding out my hand. “Oh, lovely to meet you, Helios. I’m…” I pause. “I suppose you already know my name.”

Helios chuckles. It’s melodic and infectious, but I’m too curious to join in.

“How do you know my name exactly?” I ask.

Helios takes my hand between both of his and squeezes. “Well, you’re all the talk on Olympus.”

I feel my cheeks heat. “Oh, I am?”

Helios nods. “Well, of course. Your mother finally letting you out has drawn a lot of attention.”

Those words seem to wound me, but I’m not sure why. They are my truth and the truth of all of Olympus. Of course, they aregoing to be curious about Demeter’s shut-in. I look down at my flower bed, worried that my face might give away too many of my thoughts to the man who seems to miss nothing. I pull my hand free of his.

“What?” Helios asks, stepping in closer.

“I think I want to move these here,” I say, needing to change the subject. I point to a bed of sunflowers and then to an empty patch of soil. “And these here.” I point to my roses and then to the patch where the sunflowers are growing.

A yellow light appears from Helios’s direction, and I look at him, seeing the bright, fiery orb he is holding in his palm. It looks like a miniature sun.

“I could help,” he says. “Sunshine for the flowers.”

Something about his kind offer makes me bristle. Without thinking about it, I quirk a brow and wave my hand over the daisies. Instantly, they grow to their full size, beautiful and thriving.

Helios’s lips pull into a smirk, and my stomach twists at my outward show of defiance. A trait my mother has been working hard to quell.

“Persephone! Lunch!” My mother’s harassed voice comes from somewhere within the house, and I look in that direction. My heart races that maybe she has caught me with this stranger, but she is nowhere to be seen. I look down at my daisies. While they are basking in the sunlight, still healthy and strong, they have sagged a little. It’s as if my emotions are tied to their well-being.

“Coming, Mother!” I call back, looking at Helios.

Something passes over Helios’s face that I can’t identify, and he places his hand on my arm, squeezing lightly before turning and leaving. I watch after him for a moment and then go inside to have lunch with mother.1

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