“Uh, no.” Persephone replied, and the nymph bowed, leaving them alone.
“It is a divine morning,” Hecate said, taking a deep breath. “I thought we might practice early this morning—”
“Did you know Leuce had returned?”
“Oh no, Hades isn’t going to get me in trouble. I knew she was back and advised him to tell you. What he chose to do or not isn’t my fault.”
“Tell me about her,” Persephone said.
Hecate froze, her mug half-way to the lips. Finally, she took a sip before asking, “What do you want to know?”
“Did Hades love her?”
“Not like he loves you,” she said without hesitation.
“Don’t try to make me feel better, Hecate.”
“Truly I am not. Or, at least, I wouldn’t say something that isn’t true. Hades cared for her, yes. I think he believed he loved her; I also think he knows differently now.”
“I was completely blind-sighted.”
“As I am sure your mother hoped you would be.”
“My mother?” Persephone hadn’t heard or spoken to Demeter since she’d destroyed her greenhouse, and she had to admit, she didn’t really miss her.
“Oh yes, this reeks of Demeter,” Hecate said, wrinkling her nose. “Who else has the power to turn a tree back into a nymph?”
Hades, she wanted to point out, but knew that the god hadn’t been the one to restore Leuce to her natural form.
“Why would my mother do Hades’ lover a favor?”
Hecate laughed. “You didn’t think you’d get the last word in, did you? Demeter attempted to defy the Fates to keep you from Hades. She will try anything to pry you away from him. You know that.”
Persephone was quiet. She hadn’t even considered that her mother might be involved in this, but now that Hecate had said something, she couldn’t believe it hadn’t been her first thought.
After a moment, she put her head in her hands.
“I don’t understand why he didn’t tell me.”
“The first rule of men, Persephone, is that they’re all idiots.”
She started to protest, but Hecate interrupted her.
“And don’t start thinking that just because Hades is ancient and wise in other matters of life means he’s above idiocy. He’s not. Trust me. I have existed alongside him to see it all.”
“He is an idiot,” she agreed. “But…so am I.”
Hecate’s eyes softened. “You are.”
The two shared a laugh.
“Are you going to turn me into a polecat?” Persephone asked, and though she meant it as a joke, she felt tears prick her eyes.
The goddess smiled. “No, dear, I already have one.”
Persephone wiped at her face fiercely. “Oh, Hecate. What do I do? I hurt Hades. I didn’t think…well, I didn’t think at all. I was so—”
“Hurt,” Hecate said. “Hades hurt you, too. You hurt each other. The answer is simple. You apologize.”