Chapter 226: Chapter 70
Underworld.
The asphodel fields stretched endlessly, their pale blossoms swaying gently under the faint light that filtered through the Underworld skies, carrying with them a sense of quiet sorrow and eternal stillness.
Hades walked slowly, his measured footsteps crunching against the soil that had never known sunlight, his gaze fixed upon the figure walking ahead of him.
Hecate’s long hair shifted with each step, and her slender fingers brushed delicately across the flowers as if she were coaxing life into their weary petals.
There was something soothing, something profoundly grounding about her presence.
For Hades, who bore the weight of countless souls, of judgment and death, her existence was the one place where he could let go, where he could cast aside the heavy mantle of king and simply be himself.
She was the one who had remained by his side long before he sat upon the throne of the dead.
She had seen him rise, she had seen his loneliness, and she had chosen not to abandon him when even gods treated his realm as a prison.
She was his anchor, his confidant, his shadow and light both.
The mere thought of her belonging to another, of her laughter and warmth being given elsewhere, sent a sharp pain through his chest.
He could not allow it, not even in imagination. To lose her would not simply wound him—it would destroy him.
Hecate suddenly stopped, the hem of her long dress brushing against the flowers as she turned to face him, her eyes faintly glimmering with both amusement and coldness.
Her voice, smooth and sharp, cut through the silence. "It seems, Hades, that you plan on creating your own harem."
Hades’ lips curved in a faint, wry smile, though the heaviness in his gaze betrayed the turmoil within.
"Things happened," he said quietly, almost apologetically. "But... could you not call it that? The word makes it sound degrading to them, as though they were prizes to be collected. They are not."
Hecate tilted her head, studying him, then turned away and resumed her leisurely pace.
"I am only calling it what it is," she replied calmly, her tone indifferent but her steps thoughtful. "Three goddesses bound to one man. What else would mortals or gods call it but that?"
Hades sighed, shoulders sagging, and chose not to press the argument further.
He had never cared much for how others labeled him, but when it came to these women, he wished for their dignity to remain untarnished.
Hecate’s voice broke the silence again, soft yet laced with curiosity. "Tell me, what does it feel like to have two of the most beautiful, most sought-after goddesses in existence within your arms? To know that Hera, Queen of Marriage, and Aphrodite, Goddess of Desire, have chosen you?"
She glanced back at him, her eyes narrowing faintly as though testing his sincerity.
Hades’ answer came without hesitation, his voice steady and low. "It would be perfect... if you were by my side as well."
Hecate stopped mid-step, her brows twitching ever so slightly at his reply. She turned her gaze fully toward him, the corner of her lips curving in faint disbelief.
"You are a greedy man, Hades." she said at last, her tone carrying both reproach and something softer, something unspoken.
Hades met her gaze without flinching, his expression calm but resolute. "Yes. I am greedy. I don’t deny it. Thanks to Hera, I realized that it doesn’t matter if I understand love in its purest form or not. What I know is simple. I want the three of you—Aphrodite, Hera, and you—by my side. I cannot imagine otherwise."
His voice lowered further, almost a whisper, heavy with an unshakable conviction. "If even one of you were to be taken from me, if I were to watch you give yourself to another, it would shatter me beyond repair. I would rather burn in my own realm than endure such a sight."
Hecate’s eyes lingered on him, long and searching, as though she were trying to pierce through his soul.
For a moment, her usual composure faltered, a faint tremor running through her chest at his raw honesty.
But she quickly masked it, her lips curving into a faint, teasing smile. "Such arrogance. To bind goddesses to yourself as though they belonged only to you. Truly, you are no different from your brothers in greed, though you wear yours more quietly."
Hades chuckled lightly, the sound dry but not without warmth. "Perhaps. But unlike Zeus and Poseidon, my greed is not to spread myself thin to the world. It is only to keep the few I cannot live without."
Hecate turned away once more, her fingers trailing along the asphodel blossoms, though her pace slowed as her thoughts lingered on his words.
She did not give him her answer, but the faint color that brushed her cheeks under the pale glow betrayed the stirrings of her heart.
The two of them walked in silence, their steps slow and steady, the only sound the rustling of the asphodel blossoms brushing against the hems of their garments.
The pale light of the Underworld bathed everything in shades of gray, and their figures cast long shadows across the field as though even the land itself held its breath, waiting for the outcome of their conversation.
Eventually, they came to rest beneath a solitary willow tree, its drooping branches swaying softly, the leaves whispering in the still air.
Hecate stopped, her hand gently brushing against the bark, her eyes staring forward without turning to him.
Her voice, calm yet laced with an undercurrent of something sharp, broke the silence. "Tell me, Hades. If I were to ask you... would you be willing to leave Hera and Aphrodite behind, and choose me alone?"
Hades did not answer immediately, but when he did, his words were steady, unwavering. "No. I cannot give up either of them. They are already too much a part of me."
Hecate let out a soft, bitter laugh, though there was no true mirth in it.
"Greedy," she said again, her tone colder now, as if testing the weight of her own words.
And just as before, Hades gave no argument, no denial. He simply stood tall, his presence calm and resolute. "Yes. I am greedy."
Slowly, Hecate turned her body, her back now facing him, the willow’s long branches casting shadows across her form.
She stood with her hands clasped behind her, her head lowered slightly, her long hair spilling down her back like a veil.
"Then you and I cannot be," she said quietly, but firmly. "I will not lower my pride just for you, Hades. I do not want to be... just one among the others. I cannot settle for a place divided, a heart I must share. Either you choose them, Hera and Aphrodite, or you abandon them and choose me."
Hecate really hated the idea of sharing Hades with others. It wasn’t that she doesn’t like them, that she doesn’t trust them, or even she thought herself superior to them.
No.
She simply doesn’t like the concept of her chosing a singular man while he may or may not prefer her over the others.
If she was the only one, then she would know that she was truly special to him, that she would the only woman he would ever be with, that he would only look at her affectionately.
But if she chose to share him, then there would be uncertainty. Would he only be with her because he pitied her? Would he see her as just one of the pretty faces? Was she even unique in his eyes?
Her words struck like a blade, heavy and absolute, and for a long moment the silence stretched between them.
Hades did not move closer, but his gaze never left her. His voice, when it came, was as unyielding as the stone halls of his palace. "I cannot do that. I want the three of you. Nothing less."
The quiet that followed was heavy, drawn out, the only sound the whispering leaves and the faint hum of the flowers swaying in the wind.
Hecate remained still, her back refusing to turn, while Hades simply stood there, waiting, his patience endless, his will unbending.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Hecate let out a long sigh, her shoulders rising and falling as though she were exhaling the weight of her pride itself.
"You really are greedy," she whispered, her voice softer this time, touched with resignation, though beneath it lingered a faint tremor of something more vulnerable, something she refused to let him see.