The council members all turned to look at Hades, who remained stoic as ever in his throne. Hera pressed her lips together, and I could’ve sworn I saw a hint of a smile. Why? Because someone was finally as miserable as she was?
It didn’t matter. She could think whatever she wanted as long as she let me go. “This isn’t an easy decision for me, and I’m more terrified than I’ve ever been in my life,” I said. “But Adonis needs this. Whatever I’m feeling is nothing compared to ensuring his eternity. Please—I know this is unprecedented. I know it’ll throw everything into chaos for a while. But if you allow this, eventually the wounds will heal. If you do not, they’ll fester until Hades and I both shrivel into ash.”
“And you are all right with this, brother?” said Zeus.
“I am,” said Hades hollowly. “I have seen enough to know that she speaks the truth, and I wish nothing more for her than eternal happiness. I ask the same of you all, as well.”
A murmur rippled through the council, and Zeus raised his hand, silencing them. “Very well. We will take a vote. Given the weight of the matter at hand, I ask that we all be unanimous in our decision.” He cast his gaze around the circle, focusing on each of us individually. “Those who agree to grant Persephone’s request?”
I held my breath, and one by one, the members of the council nodded. Hera first, then Ares, then Hephaestus—Artemis, Apollo, Athena, Hestia, Poseidon, Dionysus, even Hermes. Even Hades.
And though her eyes shined with unshed tears, even Mother.
But despite the others’ consent, Aphrodite remained still. Seconds passed in silence, and finally Zeus said, “And you, my daughter?”
“No.” She clenched her jaw so tightly that the cords in her neck stood out. “I won’t agree. She barely knows Adonis—she stole him from me, and she’s betrayed Hades and the council’s wishes repeatedly. I don’t see any reason to reward her for it.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but Zeus raised a hand again, and I fell silent. “Are those your only objections, Aphrodite?”
“Do you really need more? Because I have them.”
In a gentle voice he only used with her, he murmured, “Is it possible you feel this way out of jealousy and grief? He did only die this evening.”
“He did,” she said, her voice shaking. “And the only reason he did is because she insisted I leave him. She couldn’t stand the thought that he might love me more.”
Fury coiled in the pit of my stomach, hot and unyielding. If that was the kind of game she was going to play, then forget silence. “I don’t care if he loves you more,” I said. “Don’t you get that? It has nothing to do with you, and it never did. He’s suffering. He’s torturing himself because of what we did to him, and I don’t care if he hates me. I love him too much to let him go through that, and I will do whatever I can to make sure he doesn’t have to, even if it means giving this up. Even if it means spending the rest of my existence alone.”
Aphrodite said nothing, and her entire being seemed to burn with vehemence. Rather than wearing her down, as I’d hoped, my words only seemed to reinforce her hatred. Terrific.
Zeus sighed. “Aphrodite, I will give you one more chance. Yay or nay?”
“Nay,” she said. “And it will be nay no matter how many times you ask or how often she begs. I will not allow her to win.”
I let out a frustrated noise in the back of my throat. Didn’t she get it? It wasn’t about winning. It was about Adonis and his well-being and making sure he didn’t spend eternity in the cold, being eaten alive by a bear. But she didn’t care—all Aphrodite could see was the fact that I would be with him and she wouldn’t.
I may have been selfish for hurting Hades the way I did, but in that moment, Aphrodite was more selfish than any of us. Because of pride or lust or envy or all three, she would stop Adonis from having the afterlife he deserved, and I hated her. I hated her more than I’d hated anyone, even myself.
Zeus straightened, a flicker of regret passing over his face, and he let out another weary sigh. “So be it. As you have made it clear you are incapable of ruling without bias, I am forced to overturn your vote.”
Both my mouth and Aphrodite’s dropped open simultaneously. “What?” she screeched. “Daddy, you can’t—”
“I can, and as you have given me no choice, I will,” he said. “Persephone, your request is granted. When you return to the surface, you will be mortal. Take a moment to say your goodbyes. Aphrodite, if you would follow me.”
She sputtered in protest, and as he made his way into one of the hallways, she stormed after him. Once she was gone and silence filled the throne room, I looked around at the members of my family, growing dizzy as reality set in.
I was going to be mortal. I was going to die.
And I would never come back here again.
But even as I thought it, I pictured Adonis’s face in the snow and the bear that loomed over him. Even if it didn’t work and he remained in his frozen hell forever, at least I would have the satisfaction of knowing I’d tried. I would find him no matter how long it took me to scour the Underworld. And even if all I could do was hold his hand as he suffered, then at least I would be there for him for eternity.
One by one, the members of the council said goodbye. My brothers and sisters hugged me, even Ares, and Hestia and Poseidon kissed my cheeks. Hera smiled as she embraced me, and as her lips brushed against the shell of my ear, she murmured, “You made the right decision. You deserve the future you want, and you would have never been happy with Hades.”
Something about the way she said it sent a shiver down my spine, reinforcing the wall that had stood between Hades and me since our wedding. That war was over now though, and neither Hades nor I had won. But at least we wouldn’t end up like Hera and Zeus.
Finally it was Hermes’s turn. He gave me a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and despite everything between us, he trapped me in a giant bear hug. “I’ll miss you,” he said. “Things won’t be the same without you.”
“You’ll know where to find me if you ever get bored,” I said, but even if he did make the trek, he was right—things would never be the same. “Take care. And do yourself a favor and stay away from Aphrodite, would you?”
He snorted, but a cloud passed over his face, as well. I didn’t understand what it meant—then again, maybe I wasn’t supposed to. We all had our demons, and Hermes would have the chance to face his when he was ready.