Persephius

Damn, what else would I run into but a monster dog like that.

After my failed attempt to leave the castle, I’ve become like a dog on a leash. I glared at Hadeia sitting on her throne with sharp eyes, but she wouldn’t even look my way.

She must be quite angry about me injuring her loyal hound. Well, who would have known? 

If someone had told me that the entrance to the Underworld Queen’s palace was guarded by a dog the size of a house with three heads, I would never have done something so crazy. I would have tried climbing the castle wall instead of boldly walking out the main gate.

But I was hungry! Can you imagine how terrifying the sensation of hunger was for someone who had never once experienced an empty stomach in his life? 

If Hadeia had even a bit of imagination, she might have sympathized. Perhaps from living in the Underworld too long, she shows no mercy. She puts all her energy into acting rigid and strict, with no strength left to turn her head toward life’s pleasures. 

Anyway, since she prohibited me from eating food to drive me out of the Underworld, I was going crazy with hunger.

Of course, being a god’s child, and likely to become a god myself, I wouldn’t die from not eating like humans would. I wouldn’t. How ridiculous would it be if Demeter’s son starved to death? 

But there was nothing I could do about the sensation of my empty stomach shrinking. It would be like someone who had lived their whole life wrapped in fur and silk suddenly being thrown n*ked into a cold wasteland. Hunger was a pain too unfamiliar to get used to.

I thought that even if Hadeia had forbidden food, there must be some way to get it. That’s what I initially believed. The lesser gods might be as inflexible as stone walls, but couldn’t I sweet-talk a minor nymph and earn some sympathy for at least a piece of bread? 

Especially when requested by a handsome, pretty young man like me. But as time passed, I only felt more deeply the authority she held in the Underworld. No matter what I tried, literally not a single grape or grain fell my way.

I wandered around every corner of the palace looking for food that might have been forgotten. In my mother’s temple, there was always food placed somewhere, so I moved according to habit. 

Of course, it was pointless. Demeter’s temple and the Underworld Queen’s palace were nothing alike. What once excited me had suddenly turned into claws tearing at my stomach.

Now? Am I still hungry now?

I look at Hadeia again. Ah, this time she looks back at me. Forgetting my glare, I smile foolishly—no, a handsome young man like me could never look foolish—I smile sweetly like a daisy. She immediately turns her head away. Why??

Anyway, fortunately I do get to eat now. Since her will to drive me out hasn’t changed, it’s certainly not a lavish feast. It makes sense, actually. 

After being dragged by my neck from the jaws of the guard dog, I learned that if you eat food from the Underworld, you can never return to the surface. So she wasn’t starving me simply to torment me. 

Therefore, to prevent me from making another stupid mistake and to avoid problems when I return to the surface, I’m only allowed to eat offerings humans make to her. And only very small amounts.

For these reasons, I’m stuck in this boring, uncomfortable seat watching the Underworld Queen conduct her business. Because I never know when offerings from the surface will be collected. 

Since she doesn’t particularly want to feed me well—and her subordinate Thanatos argued I should be locked in a cage and starved until I beg to be sent back to my mother—I need to personally verify the incoming food and specifically request it.

The names of the dead are endless, and the reports from the Underworld judges contain all sorts of absurd cases. I sit in a chair to the side, just watching Hadeia. 

Today again she wears black clothes without a single bracelet or hair ornament. What does she do with all those immense treasures under the earth?

In my mind, I try adding various adornments to her. A twisted silver bracelet on her slender wrist, her black hair pinned up with an emerald and pearl crown—she’d look like a completely different goddess. 

And if she secured her chiton in the fashionable way instead of the old-fashioned apoptygma… I suddenly wonder about what’s under her dress that falls straight down so indifferently. Would her waist be as white and thin as her wrists?

‘What? What am I thinking? Am I crazy?’

My ears suddenly felt hot. No wonder she and Thanatos call me a youngster—I have no right to be angry about it.

It was strange. I lived among pretty nymphs but never once wondered what was under their chitons. Even when short skirts like Artemis wore became popular and everyone showed their thighs, I felt no particular interest. 

I just inwardly clicked my tongue, thinking they’d face my mother’s wrath if she saw. But when I fell into the Underworld and saw the Underworld Queen who was supposedly my aunt, something was different. 

Curiosity, competitiveness, or something else entirely.

She has now saved my life. I wonder if anyone else owes a life debt to Hades. I want to know if anyone has seen her wielding her whip as fiercely as the north wind, if any man has smelled that scent from when she grabbed me as I fell embarrassingly and pulled me behind her back to protect me.

I turn away from her. I’m irrationally afraid she might see through my thoughts. Instead, I excuse myself with the same leniency one might give a servant who burned a pot.

‘They say a living person can’t stay sane in the Underworld. Is that true?’

Despite that, I was a perfectly sensible, discerning, and intellectual young man. I made a few mistakes, but doesn’t everyone my age make mistakes as they grow? 

I eventually return to the familiar theory I’ve used many times.

‘It must be because she’s the first woman I’ve seen who has nothing to do with my mother. A woman my mother doesn’t use as her eyes and ears, who doesn’t fear my mother…’

A woman who is neither my sister, nor my guardian, nor my nanny. She ruled the Underworld and was a warrior who killed Titans. She kidnapped me and saved my life. 

Yes, let’s stop thinking there. I lean on the armrest, rest my chin on my hand, and sigh.

‘Fine. Well, someday I’ll save her when she’s in danger. To repay my life debt. That would be fair, right? Someday.’

Saving a god who rules the Underworld. What nonsense. But at that time, I didn’t know that in a world where Hades is a goddess and Kore is me, nothing is nonsensical.

It seemed Hadeia’s morning duties were coming to an end. If there is such a thing as morning in the Underworld. The stream of lesser gods and problematic dead souls seeking audience gradually became sparse. 

Even her stoic face showed a subtle hint of relief. Ah, I’m looking at her again after deciding not to. But who else, what else would I look at in this Underworld besides her?

I’ve pretty much finished exploring the palace. Though there are many areas and hidden small palaces I haven’t seen yet, they would probably feel similar. 

Endless corridors built flawlessly with dark and pale stones, maze-like hallways and rooms, and eerie gardens decorated with bones whose origins she still hasn’t explained. 

If there’s one place I’m still curious about, it’s Plutus’s famous underground storage, but since I rejected her offer to choose what I wanted and return to the surface, it feels awkward to ask to see it. 

She might misunderstand my request and take the opportunity to send me back, which I absolutely don’t want. 

The gods and nymphs I encounter in the Underworld Queen’s palace all look at me with strange gazes. The occasional sobbing of the dead souls heard from beyond the walls passes by like a bitter north wind.

That’s when it happened. A young man I had never seen before entered the audience chamber.

“I bow before the ruler of the Underworld, the authority over life and death, the one before whom it is proper to kneel in worship, the most wealthy and generous god who holds the horn of plenty.”

I had never heard such a long and grandiose greeting even though I am the son of Demeter and Zeus. Even humans who prayed at my mother’s temple didn’t flatter her that much. 

Of course, I acknowledge Hadeia’s authority as the queen of the underworld. But there was something about the silver-haired man standing before her that I didn’t like.

Like most gods and fairies living underground, he too looked extremely pale. To make matters worse, his hair, grown long and braided into a single plait, was the color of mist-like silver, making him look almost like a ghost or mirage. 

I couldn’t tell how old he might be. Since he wasn’t human, age was meaningless anyway. 

The Underworld doesn’t seem like a good environment for someone to be born, so despite his appearance, he could be an incredibly old man. But judging by his looks, he appeared to be around my age. 

Because of his eucalyptus-like thinness, he didn’t have a manly build like mine and wasn’t as pretty as me, but he had a strange boyish charm. Perhaps that boyishness emanated from his attitude, happily kneeling before Hadeia and respectfully praising her.

“Minthe.”

She smiled at him. Huh? 

I frowned.

“You’ve worked hard. What have you brought today?”

This Minthe fellow bowed his head once more, overwhelmed by her generosity, then rose from his place. He began to lay out the items he had brought at the steps of the throne.

“These are flowers sent from the temple to Cocytus. And there’s white bread in a basket, honey sealed in jars, bull’s liver and legs, goats and pigeons burned as offerings, silk for burial clothes, and coins.”

Because of his low-saturation grayish-green tunic, the bunch of flowers he held in his arms looked more vibrant. I don’t know if it was calculated, but he seemed like someone who could be quite cunning. 

So it appeared this guy’s role was to bring surface offerings to her. And it seemed like a task he had been doing for a very long time. There was no hesitation in his actions or words, and his face lit up, truly happy and grateful to have fulfilled his duty.

‘So the surface food I’ve been eating was brought by this guy?’

Somehow I lost my appetite. There was no reason, but I felt uncomfortable.

He now had only large and small scrolls left in his arms. Hadeia seemed to guess what they contained without even looking at them. She leaned back deeply in her throne and sighed. 

It was an attitude she had never shown while conducting business until now. She looked tired, all the fatigue from before suddenly rushing in at once.

“Again?”

“Yes.”

“I’m dying of boredom. Don’t they ever know when to give up?”

She spoke gloomily. What could she mean? What kind of letters would make her look so weary? 

I was nearly out of my chair. I was curious about the contents, but also because this was the first time I’d seen her so focused on something, sharing a private world with someone else.

“That’s all the official business for today. Everyone, leave.”

While I fidgeted like a dog smelling a bone, she raised her white hand and made the announcement. Immediately, the lesser gods who had been standing like murals in the dark corners scattered like silent shadows. 

Even Thanatos, who had been standing next to me monitoring my behavior, did the same. This was the power of the Underworld’s ruler. Only I could remain in the middle of the empty hall because I alone did not belong to the Underworld.

No, not just me. Wasn’t the green-clothed Minthe still keeping his place?

“Did you not hear me? You go too. I’ll send the food later.”

“I’m not the only one still here, am I? I’d like to stay too. Watching you work, Aunt, is inspiring and motivating.”

“Minthe is staying because he’s the one who brought these scrolls. Why are you being stubborn again?”

“What are those scrolls that you’re trying to hide from everyone?”

“Do you think I’ll tell you?”

“Do you think I’ll give up?”

“Troublesome boy.”

Hadeia sighed. Knowing I had won, I got up from my seat and approached her. With no one to stop me, I climbed the steps all the way up to the raised platform where the throne stood alone. 

Seeing my uninhibited behavior, she clicked her tongue but didn’t scold me. She already knew that scolding would be pointless since I would do what I wanted anyway. 

She also understood better than anyone that my casual attitude wasn’t due to lack of respect or arrogance, but from pure curiosity and affection, like a duckling following a sheepdog.

As I climbed the stairs, I glanced down at Minthe. With each step I took closer to her, another crack appeared in Minthe’s glass-like face.

“Tell me. Who sent the letters? Better yet, just show me.”

When Hadeia held out her palm, Minthe extended his arm with his head bowed and handed over the sealed letters. Standing right next to the silver throne, I pestered her. She took a black lambskin scroll and snorted.

“What would Kore want with reading marriage proposals sent to Hades?”

“Marriage proposals?”

This time, I didn’t mind her teasing me by calling me Kore. The topic was too shocking and strange.

Marriage proposals to Hades?

My eyes opened so wide that I could see my own reflection in her emerald eyes as she stared at me.

“Yes. Marriage proposals submitted to Hades.”

My reaction seemed to suddenly amuse her.

“Why? Did you think Hades has been trapped alone in hell all this time because no one wanted him? Hmm? Because his hair and beard are so long they reach the floor, because he’s as ugly as a blacksmith and as gloomy as a bat? Born from the same seed as your father, how much could his appearance really be flawed? While everyone in the sky and sea is busy having their fun, Hades doesn’t need to be so melancholy. Hmm. Isn’t that right?”

“I, I never said that!”

“But you thought something similar. Tell me you didn’t.”

“Well… what does it matter what I thought before meeting you in person? Anyway, you’re not ugly and don’t look anything like a bat.”

“My, what high praise. Not looking anything like a bat.”

“There’s no comparison!”

There was no need for me to give such stupid answers in succession. Even now, when I recall that conversation, I want to run into a field out of embarrassment. 

Anyway, fortunately, she seemed to be in a better mood because of me. Better than right after seeing the bundle of scrolls Minthe had brought. Well, I would feel the same. 

If people who didn’t know who I was or what kind of person I truly was sent me marriage proposals saying, “Persephone, Kore more beautiful than flowers,” and so on? 

Nothing could be more infuriating.

Perhaps because I am who I am, she is unusually generous. Because I am the one who lived with my identity hidden under the nickname Kore and pink peplos. I suddenly felt I might understand what she saw in my blue eyes.

“So they’re proposing marriage because they think my uncle, no, aunt, no, since everyone thinks you’re a male god, my uncle is handsome?”

“No.”

She seemed to recall something for a moment.

“Isn’t my divine image rather fierce? Too much beard. They always place Cerberus right next to me too.”

“But earlier you said…”

“It’s completely different from fighting over Aphrodite. Asking to marry Hades has nothing to do with love or desire. This is business.”

Marriage proposals as business? I couldn’t understand. She was looking at me. Ignoring the servant down there completely. That much I liked.

“Being Hades’ wife, becoming Queen of Hell, wouldn’t be such a bad business deal. Even calculating in the fact that you’d have to live in the gloomy palace of the Underworld. First, there’s wealth. And, there’s power. The power to exact revenge through death.”

Only then did I realize. Not the lonely beauty with a white neck and black hair, but the dark King of Death that the world had painted. I remembered what the world expected of him.

“Yes.”

She read what I was about to say just by looking at my expression.

“It goes something like this: ‘I, so beautiful and young, will endure everything and marry Hades, so in return, please kill my brother’s enemy.’ Traitors who usurped countries, relatives who betrayed their families, and occasionally even lovers’ killers appear. Women full of resentment. They’re already so consumed by grudges that they might as well have set foot in the Underworld.”

“That’s… too much.”

“Not just humans, but old Titans also tirelessly submit marriage proposals. Seeing Hades, the eldest, ironically buried underground, never married and living in seclusion, they think he must hold quite a grudge against your father.”

I thought about holding her hand. Beyond that, I didn’t know what to say or how to say it.

I was a child who had never even thought of loveless proposals or marriages without affection. My mother only wanted a child, so she raided my father’s storehouse, and that was it. She didn’t love my father as a man, though she knew him as a sibling. 

Conversely, Hera remains my father’s wife despite all the trouble he causes. Looking at the lovers Hera punishes, and my father who lets her punish those lovers, there must be some strange kind of affection between them that I cannot understand.

But now Hadeia was facing marriage proposals pouring in for Hades. Greed and resentment from those offering their bodies in exchange for the power and wealth of the death god, the Underworld King. 

There was no excitement, no thirsty thrill, no love at first sight. 

I looked at Minthe. I looked at the large and small marriage proposal scrolls he was still holding in his arms. They seemed to jump at Hadeia, grab her by the collar, and pour out their lamentations.

“Since when…”

I couldn’t even properly continue my sentence. I wasn’t sure what meaning this question would have even as I asked it.

“I don’t even remember.”

Hadeia slowly turned her head. And gazed at the hall filled with solitude and darkness.

“Wouldn’t it be better not to receive them at all? After all, you…”

You won’t marry them anyway. You can’t. I swallowed those words.

I read the letters in the loosely spread scroll like a thief. 

Cheeks white as a goat, eyes quiet as a doe… Red and glossy strands of hair like an autumn fox, giving off the scent of saffron… br*asts bulging like two silver bowls turned upside down, and a belly like a pearl… 

I couldn’t bear to read any further and turned my head away. I couldn’t even imagine how many years she had to read such obscene and bitter letters.

Hadeia carelessly scanned it with one eye, then handed it back to Minthe and received a new scroll.

“Occasionally there are plausible prayers mixed in. Anyway, when fishing with a net, you can’t just let those slip away.”

When I was considered Persephone, Kore, I believed no one in the world could be more miserable and ridiculous than me. What could be more wretched than a grown man dressed as a woman, under the surveillance of nymphs, trapped in a field of daffodils? 

But now…

When I remained silent, Hadeia lightly touched her forehead. Looking like she had told too much to a child.

“Well done, Minthe. Leave them and go. There don’t seem to be any urgent requests anyway.”

“My King—”

He stepped forward, clearly having something more to say. But the black-clothed goddess raised her white hand and spoke. To me as well.

“You too, Persephius. I’m tired of being among children. You should leave with Minthe.”

I close my mouth. Just as Minthe does.

I look at her, who called me Persephius.

Thinking that someday I would like to call her Hadeia.