Page 25 of Until Death
I nervously lift my eyes to peer around the dining hall, taking in the heavy velvet curtains at the windows and the intricate carvings and ornate tapestries that adorn the walls. Even the table has a dark silk runner, and the flickering candles are a deep, nearly black sapphire.
Yet again, I’m reminded of what I expected Death’s home to be like. The cold chill of the place racing down my spine, despite the heat.
Despite the opulence, a feeling of dread settles in the pit of my stomach, growing more nauseating with each passing second.
It isn’t long before the women begin to whisper amongst themselves, casting furtive glances in my direction.
I can’t help but notice that they're all dressed in fine silks and jewels, their hair styled in intricate braids and curls. I feel out of place in my makeshift dress and simple hair.
I can feel their judgment and disdain, and it only adds to my anxiety.
Perhaps there was no need for me to worry about my plan after all. How amIsupposed to draw his attention when I cannot even begin to compare to those around me?
Just when I’m not sure I can take this any longer, the doors are thrown open with a bang, and in strides Hades.
He's dressed in black pants and a midnight blue shirt that he’s currently rolling up over his forearms as he makes his way through the hall, the squeak of his leather boots filling the silence that’s fallen over the room. Despite the casual nature of his attire, there’s a dangerous air about him that makes my blood run cold.
Although the room is already quiet, a deeper hush falls over us as we watch him move toward the head of the table. His head is held high, and his eyes don’t waver from his destination.
When he finally takes his seat, the room seems to reach a tipping point.
“Welcome, ladies. I trust you have all been treated well in my absence,” Hades says, and it’s as if the whole room lets out a collective sigh as the silence is at long last broken. “Come, let us eat.”
As if on cue, servants slip from the shadows to place silver plates laden with strange meats and vegetables before us. I stare down at the food, the smell of spices and herbs filling my nose as the other women begin to dig in.
I know that I need to eat to keep up my strength, but I’m hesitant to take a bite of anything on my plate. I’m not sure I could even swallow a bite if I wanted to, no matter how tempting it looks.
Quiet conversation fills the room along with the sounds of knives dragging against plates and cups being placed down on the table. My mouth waters as I watch them eat, yet my stomach is too tightly knotted for me to dare touch any of the food.
Still, I can at least pretend.
Picking at the food on my plate, I let my eyes wander around the room again, only now realizing that Persephone has yet to join us.
Where is she? Is it normal for her not to dine with him?
It seems odd that a wife, let alone a queen wouldn’t take supper with her husband, and it leaves me feeling more than a little worried.
There goes any hope of letting her in on what I was planning to do.
Without meaning to, my eyes keep shifting back toward the head of the table, though I barely register what I’m doing … until I refocus to realize Hades looking right back at me.
I start, nearly dropping the fork in my hand as I quickly pull my eyes away from him. The knots in my stomach tighten as I try my best to calm my racing heart, thankful that my stomach is too empty to allow me to be sick.
Slowly, I peek back up at him, only to find his narrowed gaze remains locked on me. His brow furrows as our eyes meet, and again I look away to feign interest in the mostly untouched food before me.
It’s only as I start to push a brazed carrot around my plate that I realize I’m already failing my own plan. I’m supposed to be charming him, not hiding my face every time he happens to glance my way.
How else am I supposed to prove to him that I am the woman he’s searching for, the one he danced with at the ball?
“Is the food not to your liking, mortal?” Hades asks coldly, just as I take a deep breath and lift my eyes to look his way again.
“Of course not,” I say, my words catching in my throat, “I—”
“The mortals have always been an ungrateful lot, my lord,” a golden-haired woman sitting to my left says. “It does not surprise me that she cannot tolerate food fit for the very king of the Underworld. Such a waste.”
I glance at her, my thoughts momentarily pulled away from Hades and my plans to charm him, as she sneers at my untouched food. I blink as I look down at my own plate, guilt weighing on me yet again. She’s not entirely wrong, it does seem like such a waste, especially considering how many nights I went to bed with only the pangs of hunger to occupy my thoughts and fuel my nightmares.
Still, I cannot allow this woman’s comments to veer me off course. Giving her a polite smile, I turn my attention back to Hades, but he is no longer looking our way. Instead, he’s turned his attention toward a dark-haired woman who’s seated closer to him.
