For the Love of Hades (The Loves of Olympus) by Sasha Summers

mouth, shaking his head. “Persephone,” he sighed. “He’s forgotten what a heart is for.”
    She felt sadness at such words. “I would show him. I would help his heart find its way… to me.”
    He studied her for some time, then said, “Then I will help you…”
    Demeter sat up, jolting sharply awake and making them jump apart.
    “Persephone? I forgot to tell you. In one week’s time, we journey to Thessaly. You will meet Erysichthon, King of Thessaly. He is most loyal to me. Since Hermes will not have you, I’ve decided that Erysichthon may.” She yawned, stretching before she rose to her feet. She reached for her daughter’s hand, pulling Persephone up with her. “It promises a fine match. For he can protect you when I am away.”
    Persephone was too stunned to speak or resist.
    Erysichthon?
    “You may sleep here, Hermes. But my daughter and I must find our beds alone.”
    Persephone stared blindly ahead, stunned. How could such bliss turn to misery?
    ###
    Erysichthon watched the last of the revelers go, and with them his daughter Ione. He’d done as Demeter demanded, sent his daughter to wife with a man older than his own father.
    His Ione had smiled throughout, a fine daughter.
    “A good wedding,” a man said, his pale blue eyes assessing Erysichthon with ease. “I hear the father is soon to marry?”
    Erysichthon looked at the man. A fit specimen, well-muscled and agile, Ione would have fancied him. But that he knew of his impending marriage? This was troubling. Few knew he was considering it, and none who he might wed.
    “Do I know you?” He knew he didn’t. He cut too striking a figure. And he wore fine robes, too fine for an unimportant man. “You were a guest? From Haemon’s family?”
    The man shook his head. “I come for other business.”
    “Oh?”
    The man’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I seek Erysichthon. The great King of Thessaly, warrior of Greece.”
    “You have found him.” Erysichthon paused. “You are from Olympus, then? What does my Goddess want of me now?”
    The man smiled, a most magnanimous smile. “Fealty.”
    He scowled, waving the man to follow. “When have I not given her fealty?” He entered the great hall, waving off attendants and servants. “I have done all she asked, without the promise of her daughter’s hand.”
    He poured two cups of wine, offering one to the man. He paused then. The man regarded him with a furrowed brow, his jaw tight.
    “My apologies,” he murmured quickly. He would not lose Demeter’s patronage now. “I fear today has been trying. I am honored to do whatever Demeter would have of me, with or without Persephone as my bride.”
    The man smiled broadly then, his pale blue eyes regarding him closely. “Sometimes the Gods forget what it is to be mortal. It is rare for an Olympian to make any sacrifice, but they do not hesitate to ask for such examples of devotion.”
    Erysichthon felt the truth behind the man’s words. And yet, he knew his Goddess was different. “Demeter is a rare Olympian, I think. She has never asked for anything indulgent of me, until now. And, truth be told, she asks for what I should have already done. Marry and ally my kingdom with that of our neighbors.”
    “You are loyal to Demeter.” The man’s eyes were too sharp.
    “I am.” He nodded, treading carefully. “And I will remain so.”
    The man’s gaze wandered, regarding the wine with sudden interest. “Have you met your bride to be? The fair Persephone?”
    He near choked on his wine. “Is that your message? Has Hermes refused her hand?”
    “Hermes?” Again the pale blue eyes narrowed, a strange smile playing upon his lips. “He has.”
    Erysichthon smiled. “Well, then, this day grows more promising.” He patted the man on the shoulder. “I have not seen her. But she must be a beauty; there is none more lovely than her mother.”
    “Would that the mother was as eager to marry as her daughter?” the man offered, laughing.
    Erysichthon