Page 40 of The Catacomb King
“Do you want to put me down?” I didnotwant to be put down. I liked being carried. Only because it was a respite for my feet, of course.
“No. I’m fine. I’m… thinking about the rooms.” He sounded flustered, like he’d been thinking about something else. He went on hastily, “They are not of the Monarch, I suppose. So they do not behave as gifts of the Monarch do.” After another pause, he admitted, “That was clever of you to figure out, Persephone.”
I tried not to feel too smug. But that old warmth was flushing me again. I tried to distract myself. I said, “It’s strange, how gifts of the Monarchdobehave. The moving catacombs, the upside-down waterfall. It’s like he wants you to be confused.”
“I don’t know what He wants. He is not like us. And disorder is natural to Him.”
We were standing at the entrance to the graveyard. Or, more accurately, Hades was standing. I was still in his arms. My shoulder blades and the soft parts of my knees had grown bruised from being held, but I still had to admit that I didn’t want him to put me down. I allowed myself to press a little closer to his warm chest.
The husks rustled. The spiderwebs high above drifted silently.
I asked Hades, still speaking softly — it seemed like the thing to do in the graveyard — “Why did you get so weird earlier, when I came in here?”
He startled. “I didn’t get weird.”
“Yes, you did. You were staring at me.”
I felt rather than saw him roll his eyes. “Maybe I was struck dumb by how beautiful you were.”
“No, come on, I’m serious.” I scoffed.
He was quiet a second. Then he asked, “Why do you do that?”
“Why do I do what?”
“You’re always insisting you’re not pretty or smart enough. Or comparing yourself to this Josie character. Why do you hate yourself so much?”
“What?”
But he did not flinch from my tone, and he did not apologize. He waited.
I spluttered. How dare he? I acted that way because it was true. Iwasn’tas pretty as Josie,wasn’tsmart enough to make Limer any better, wasn’t even talented enough to save mymother from death. I finally scrambled down from his arms, ignoring the pain as my feet hit the earth. “Big words coming from you,” I snapped. “Why doyouhate yourself so much?”
But Hades was far from fazed, the infuriating son of a bitch. “That’s easy. It’s because everyone else here hates me.”
“No, they don’t! They love you! Elke’s obsessed with you. Everyone else we’ve passed has practically worshiped you. The only person I’ve seen who hasn’t liked you is the Vizeking.”
Hades worked his jaw. He stared at the graveyard. Then he said with his customary bitterness, “You haven’t met my father.”
That shut even me up.
We stood side-by-side, gazing out at the papery husks, the spiderwebs, the honeycomb crevices with corpses tucked away in the shadows. Beside me, Hades’s body was rigid. Unforgiving.
I was losing count of the number of times he’d made me feel a way I didn’t expect to feel.
And this time I felt… sorry.
That hadn’t been fair of me. Yes, Hades had kidnapped me, and he was holding me here against my will, starving and under threat of being fed to a wild god — but he had not made my mother sick. He had not made my family poor. He hadn’t made it so I couldn’t go to college. He hadn’t made Josie beautiful and freckled and strawberry-blond.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured finally. It was hard to get the words out, but I managed it. “You’re right, Prince. I wouldn’t know what it’s like. My dad died when I was young, and my mom is… like this now. But before those things happened… they did love me.”
“You’ve made that clear,” Hades said. “I’m glad for you. I’m glad they had some sense.”
“I wish your father did.”
He laughed a little. It was not a kind laugh. “You think your evil kidnapper deserves love?”
“Yes. I think everyone deserves to be loved by their father.”
