She was taken from her meadow with a wink and sly words. “I’ll make you a Queen,” he offered.

“I’m already a Queen, what else is there?”

He regarded her crown of flowers, so skilfully woven and with such a perfume as to entice even the coldest of stars.

“I can give you the darkness,” said Hades, as he watched the lights glimmer in her golden hair. “I can give you the peace and privacy of the dead, I can hide you away from the glaring sun and curious critters. I can give you a throne of stone and bone where you will have true power. In the dark, in the quiet, in the stillness and the cold, there may you assume your truest form.”

Persephone appraised her suitor, set aside her crown of twigs and petals, and climbed aboard the gleaming chariot of obsidian and smoke. The night was full of promise.

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