|c.4|

The soft clink of cutlery against plates as Penelope finished the last few bites of her meal. The dining hall, vast and imposing, seemed almost too grand for just two people. Flickering candlelight reflected off the dark stone walls, their surfaces adorned with intricate carvings of ancient tales. The atmosphere felt heavy, though the food had been surprisingly comforting—a contradiction to everything Penelope had been told about her supposed new home.

 

“You swear your mother has nothing up her sleeve?” Thanion’s voice was calm, his piercing gaze anything but. He leaned back in his chair, one hand resting on the edge of the table while the other toyed idly with the stem of his goblet. “No ulterior motives? No traps I should be wary of?”

 

Penelope’s heart pounded as she carefully set her fork down. “I swear it,” she said, her voice steady though her palms were clammy. “She’s only doing as she was told, ensuring Persephone’s… my… return goes smoothly. Nothing more.”

 

Thanion didn’t respond right away, studying her with an unreadable expression. Penelope fought the urge to fidget under his scrutiny, aware of the weight of Demeter’s magic pressing against her. She wasn’t lying, not entirely—Demeter hadbeen following orders. But Thanion’s probing questions made her feel as though the truth was hanging by a thread, dangerously close to unraveling.

 

“Hmm,” Thanion finally said, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Perhaps. But the truth has a way of revealing itself, no matter how tightly it’s bound.”

 

The words sent a chill through Penelope, though she forced herself to maintain a calm facade. She picked up her goblet, taking a sip of the spiced wine to hide the tremble in her hands. “It’s really not as complicated as you think,” she said lightly, offering him a small smile. “My mother isn’t plotting anything.”

 

His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before softening. “Very well. Let’s turn to lighter matters, shall we? Tell me, Persephone—what occupies your time in the mortal realm?”

 

The question caught her off guard. Her mind raced, searching for a plausible answer. What did Persephone do? What would she have done? And how much of herself could Penelope safely reveal without arousing suspicion?

 

“Oh, you know,” she said, forcing a casual tone. “Gardening. Reading. Spending time with my mother.” She hesitated, then added, “I also enjoy walking in nature. Watching the seasons change. That sort of thing.”

 

Thanion tilted his head, clearly intrigued. “Gardening,” he echoed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “I suppose that suits you.”

 

Penelope nodded, swallowing the knot in her throat. She couldn’t afford to slip up. Every word, every gesture, felt like a test, and Thanion’s sharp mind seemed all too adept at noticing cracks. She tried to steer the conversation back toward him. “And you? What occupies your time here?”

 

His smirk deepened, and for a moment, Penelope thought he might press her further. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. “Ruling the Underworld isn’t without its challenges,” he said. “But when I’m not attending to my duties, I find solace in music, strategy games, and—on rare occasions—watching the mortal realm from afar.”

 

There was a wistfulness in his tone, a hint of longing that caught Penelope off guard. Before she could dwell on it, he waved a hand dismissively. “But I doubt such things interest you. You’ve likely had your fill of mortal concerns.”

 

She managed a small laugh. “Not entirely. Mortal concerns are… familiar.”

 

His eyes flickered with something she couldn’t quite place. “Familiar, but fleeting,” he said softly. Then, as though catching himself, he straightened in his chair and gestured toward her nearly empty plate. “Have you had enough?”

 

“Yes,” Penelope said quickly, eager to escape the intensity of his gaze. “The food was delicious. Please thank your cook for me.”

 

“I’ll be sure to do so.” Thanion rose gracefully from his seat, his movements fluid and commanding. “Come. Let me show you to your quarters.”

 

Penelope followed him, her heart thudding as they left the dining hall. The transition from the grand, open space to the corridors of the mansion felt like stepping into another world. The halls were both vast and intimate, the polished black marble floors glinting in the torchlight. Carvings and tapestries adorned the walls, their intricate details telling stories Penelope couldn’t begin to unravel.

 

Thanion walked beside her, his pace unhurried. He pointed out various rooms as they passed, his tone casual yet authoritative. “This way leads to the library,” he said, gesturing down a corridor lined with towering doors. “And here is the solarium, though I’m not certain you’ll find much use for it without the sun.”

 

Penelope chuckled politely, though her thoughts were elsewhere. The halls were nothing like she’d imagined. They were warm and inviting, filled with light and life—so unlike the cold, barren realm Demeter and Persephone had described. Her eyes roamed over the golden trim along the walls, the flickering sconces shaped like skeletal hands, and the paintings of serene landscapes that seemed almost out of place.

 

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, more to herself than to Thanion.

 

“Surprised?” he asked, glancing at her.

 

She hesitated, then nodded. “I was told… it would be different.”

 

A knowing look passed over his face, but he said nothing. Instead, he stopped in front of an ornate set of double doors, their glossy black surface gleaming in the dim light. Intricate carvings of flowers and vines wove across the wood, their petals shimmering with gold and silver inlays. Penelope’s breath caught as she took in the craftsmanship, her fingers itching to trace the delicate designs.

 

“These will be your quarters,” Thanion said, reaching for the handles. But as he pushed the doors open, a sound cut through the air, freezing them both in place.

 

Loud, unabashed moaning.

 

Penelope’s face burned as her eyes darted to the source of the noise. There, sprawled naked across the bed, was a spectral woman. Her glowing form was striking, her hair a cascade of silver fire spilling over her shoulders. She lay wide-legged, her movements slow and deliberate as she pleasured herself.

 

“Roz,” Thanion growled, his voice low and dangerous.

 

The woman didn’t stop. Her gaze locked onto Penelope’s, a sly, mocking smile curling her lips. When she finally reached her climax, her body arched, and she released herself over the silken sheets, her eyes never leaving Penelope’s.

 

Penelope couldn’t look away, too stunned to move. Roz licked her fingers clean with deliberate slowness before turning her attention to Thanion. “My lord,” she purred. “I was merely welcoming your guest.”

 

Thanion’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. “Out. Now.”

 

Roz rose from the bed, unbothered by her nudity. She paused beside Penelope, leaning in close enough that her breath tickled her ear. “Good luck,” she whispered, her tone laced with venom.

 

Without another word, she disappeared in a swirl of silver mist.

 

“I am so sorry,” Thanion said, turning to Penelope with a look of genuine mortification. “I had no idea she would—”

 

“It’s fine,” Penelope interrupted, her voice trembling. “Really. It’s… fine.”

 

Thanion’s gaze darkened, his embarrassment giving way to anger. “You’ll sleep in my room tonight,” he said firmly. “I’ll have this mess dealt with immediately.”

 

Penelope’s heart skipped a beat. “Your room?”

 

“Unless you’d prefer to stay here,” he said, his lips curling into a faint, teasing smile.

 

Her face turned scarlet. “No! I mean—yes? No!” She stammered helplessly, earning a low chuckle from Thanion.

 

“Come,” he said, taking her hand. “I’ll show you the way.”

And with that, he led her away, leaving the ruined room—and its lingering tension—behind.

 

Thanion took her hand and led her down another corridor. The halls seemed brighter here, the walls adorned with paintings of serene landscapes and sparkling rivers. Soft carpets muffled their footsteps, and the air felt warmer, more intimate. Penelope barely noticed. Her thoughts were consumed by the events of the evening, her nerves fraying with every step.

 

When they reached another set of double doors, these carved with scenes of the heavens and the earth, Thanion stopped. “Here we are,” he said, his tone softer now. “Go inside and make yourself comfortable. I’ll deal with Roz and have someone bring you anything you need.”

 

Penelope hesitated, her hand resting on the door handle. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

 

Thanion offered her a small, reassuring smile. “Sleep well, Persephone.”

 

As he turned to leave, Penelope couldn’t help but watch him go, her chest tight with emotions she couldn’t name. The sound of his voice shouting Roz’s name moments later snapped her out of her thoughts. With a deep breath, she pushed the doors open and stepped inside, closing them behind her.

 

The room was magnificent, a perfect blend of warmth and elegance that felt entirely at odds with everything she’d been told about the Underworld. But as Penelope stood there, alone in the quiet splendor, she couldn’t shake the unease that had settled deep in her bones. Whatever Demeter’s plan was, it was becoming increasingly clear that it wouldn’t be easy to survive it.