The Rage of Proserpina

Lucien

The drive to the lake house had been a silent one after that. Proserpina had retreated into a shell, responding when her children spoke, replying to him in monosyllables.

It was soon apparent to everyone that there was trouble between them.

It continued through the afternoon, into the dinner when she went about, a dull spectre of herself. Lucien was first angry and then exasperated. He did not know how to deal with this. He had seen her crying, had seen her angry.

But this was different. It was as though she had shut herself off from him and he found he wanted in. Desperately. They had planned to leave on the third day and he was damned if he was going to sleep alone without her responding to him.

But he knew he was feeling guilty over the way he had spoken to her.

When he looked for her after dinner, when they usually sat together with the children, she was missing.

“Where’s your mother?’ he growled at his daughter. She gave him an arch look, reminding himself of his reflection