¹On This Spring Day, percy jackson & the olympians

007.

ON THIS SPRING DAY
━━━━━ chapter seven

━━━━━ THE VIOLETS SPAT Violet out in what could only be the palace's dining room. She slid across the cold floor, and she stood up quickly, rubbing her aching hip. It was one thing to be forcibly flower traveled ( is this even a thing? ) by her ancestor, let alone painfully flower traveled. ( Violet still doesn't know if that is a thing. )

Violet took a long look around. It had to be the dining room, she didn't see what else it could be. She didn't even know what part of the palace she was in, having never explored this part of Hades's Palace. And if she wanted to leave, she couldn't—not with the large entrances on both sides of the room guarded with skeletons. The dark, imposing double doors on both sides were carved with intricate designs depicting scenes of death and destruction. What lovely scenery to gaze upon as you suffered through a meal with Hades, the Lord of the Underworld.

The vast chamber was illuminated by flickering torches, and the dark chairs and long table flickered with odd colors from the faint glow of gems that were embedded in the walls. The room itself—cavernous with high ceilings and columns carved from black marble, and even more guards were posted there with guns and batons. The floor looked like it was made of polished obsidian, and the floors reflected the torches and the gems, refracting it to the point it hurt Violet's eyes if she looked down the right way. Thick tapestries that depicted scenes of death, funerals, and the afterlife hung from the walls, only making the hairs on Violet's arms raise.

In the center of the room stood the massive and ornate dining table crafted from ebony wood, and it was adorned with gold plates and silverware. Elaborate candelabras were placed after every fourth chair, and the candles cast warm—but still ghostly—light across the table. There was no food on the plates, or anywhere at all. Despite the grandiose appearance, there was an underlying sense of dread and foreboding in the air—reminders that Violet was in Hades's place. Not Olympus, no matter how much resemblance there was between the two.

All in all, Violet hated Hades's Palace.

"I didn't wish this," she told the room defiantly, not even sure if any gods would hear her let alone if Persephone would hear her. "I'm not hungry, either. I don't want any breakfast—not from the Underworld!"

In a flurry of golden wheat and pink carnations, Demeter and Persephone appeared behind Violet, still furiously arguing about what would be for breakfast.

Here, up close and in the stuffy dining room instead of the stuffing garden, Violet got better looks at Demeter and her daughter. She wasn't sure if she was grateful for that, starting to notice more and more similarities between the two and herself. Demeter herself was still strict and rigid, but this close—she was more mysterious and enigmatic. But Violet figured most of the shift in her presence had to do with the lack of Hades's presence. And the goddess's dark hair fell down in waves, looking as lustrous and deep as fertile soil. Her dark eyes reflected the red and purple gems as she took in the entire room herself. Despite the "aged" appearance, Violet could still see the godly face and aura—Demeter radiated grace, wisdom, and power. It wafted off her like waves. Her face looked like it was carved with marble, but it slowly started to flush red as she took in the room.

"Why is it so dark?" she shrilled. "Dining in the dark? Does Hades have no guests? This is not how you treat guests!"

Persephone sighed. She brushed a stray carnation off her shoulder. "Mother."