Demeter's garden in the Underworld was in full bloom, an eternal oasis nurtured by divine hands.
Silver fruit trees swayed with no wind, luminous flowers opened and closed in rhythm with unseen tides, and vines heavy with golden grapes curled lazily across marble arches.
Hecate, Hera, Aphrodite, Campe, Eris, Demeter, Persephone, Styx, Lethe, and Medea sat in a wide circle on embroidered cushions around a low table brimming with delicacies—honeycakes, roasted pomegranates, ambrosial wine, and steaming cups of bitter Underworld tea.
Hecate, Hera, and Aphrodite were at the center of attention, their cheeks faintly flushed as they narrated the events of their date with Hades.
The others leaned forward with rapt faces, gasping and squealing in unison, their voices rising like a flock of birds.
"I still cannot believe you three managed to trap him like that." Styx said, clapping her hands so hard her cup nearly spilled. "The great lord of the Underworld, undone by his own women."
