Hell Is An Empty Heart (Book One of The Triple Moon's Chronicles)

33 | Gold Dust

Treasured golden jewels,
Embalmed fine-toothed ivory combs,
Adored beautiful sealstones, enshrined swords,
Cherished bronze cups and buried old, forgotten lives.

Never did a mortal leave without their own fortune. Deep within their own tombs, they were laid to rest beside them—a wealth that was always lost to their true master, Hades.

Persephone sprung from his arm-seat to dive right away into the gilded sea of fallen coins—a bed that grew in size and proportion to the number of prosperous deceased. She was clueless on how the possessions they had accumulated over a lifetime had both built and destroyed civilizations. Little did she know, too, that she danced on their graves under the moonstruck eyes of Hades.

She was gold.

Even hidden under the ground, her value hadn't faded away. She was still the gold belonging to gods. A gold in constant lustre like it was lusted after, a metal that none could tarnish, and a chemical element that nothing could corrode. She was a young woman who was indestructible.

Obols showered down over her fiery hair, and her fair hands were raised to the shining wisdom of the eternal heaven. Persephone caught them as they landed on her, becoming the fool with trimmed ankles. She was on the quest, taking off on her invisible fairy wings, and the purpose, moving in adagio with sparkles flashing out of her fingers.

Persephone fell into one of the many bright blond mountains and tossed some coins at Hades. It was an invitation for him to join her in that aureate madness. He, though, kept his distance from her, sheltering himself further in the shadow of her grace.

Giggling at that stubborn man, Persephone drew nearer and dragged Hades' reluctant hand to the top of a stack of coins, where they stumbled and rolled down. Body against his body, she was laughing high and wrapped in the swirl of copper confetti while he couldn't take his eyes off her. They landed with Persephone on top of him, and she buried Hades under a thousand obols, her fingers stroking on his shielded chest.

His armour wasn't designed to protect him against her soft touches.

It didn't take long for his fast beating heart to get exposed. It took less time for his face to blush over her many caresses. In ductility, gold had the upper hand over iron; thus, she sprinted away from him with a smirk.

She vanished from his line of sight, only to reappear again with her hair tucked into the back of her dress. Persephone was now a faithful portrait of her mother, Demeter, who exuded power in a crown of gemstones on her head.

Hades furrowed his brows, as he didn't know what to expect from that new woman in front of him.

At his incredulous stare, she simply sat on a big wooden treasure box with one of her hands resting on her forehead. "Poseidon, Poseidon, my Poseidon." She faked big tears in her plea before strangling a poor beaded necklace in her fists. "Zeus is the one who has wronged us."

Suddenly she kneeled down before the wooden treasure box, her face masked by a stiffened and painted linen that made her appear like Poseidon. Persephone's voice even became gravelly when she cleared her throat for the next line in her imaginary theatre.

"Do not be concerned; I will not fight him because he has shamed us twice. However, I can comfort you once every other week if you'd like."

Standing, Persephone held out one arm and removed her mask to wink at Hades before covering her face again. "When my wife is gone and my children have left to explore the rest of my burgeoning empire."

With the mask now thrown away, Persephone sat back on the treasure chest, her hands clasped together and a false smile plastered across her face. "I accept, I accept, I accept a thousand times to be your mistress."