Chapter 8

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The dinner party went on as if nothing had happened.

I was both perplexed and angry about that—I wondered, did any of these people care that Soren and I (who, as far as they knew, were engaged) had just fought one another in front of all of them?

I sat between Soren and Lazarus at the party, carefully toying with the food on my plate and avoiding the glass of horrible freshwater in front of me. Instead, I opted for some of the wine, gulping it down quicker than it could burn my throat.

Hundreds of people were seated at the enormous mahogany dining table, talking amongst themselves. They all seemed to be in their twenties, even though I knew they were all easily a thousand years old. Soren had said he was thousands of years old. I couldn't even imagine living for that long.

"Hey, kelp hair," Lazarus whispered in my ear. "I think you should put down the wine goblet."

"And I think you should reconsider your hair color," I mumbled into my glass. "It looks stupid."

However, after one final sip, I did as he told and put the goblet down. He did seem tense that night...probably because of the fight. It was quite strange seeing Lazarus anything but easygoing, as he normally was.

As I went over the possibilities for the cause of Lazarus's tenseness in my head, Soren stood, goblet in hand, and looked out over the dining table, at all of the other children of the Gods. Everyone seemed to grow quiet as he did, putting down their silverware and looking back at him.

A nerve rolled around in my stomach like a tumbleweed as I remembered that, technically, he was all of their King. He didn't seem so powerful until he was so up-close.

"Hello, everyone," he addressed them cordially. "It is my great pleasure to welcome you here this evening. I hope you are enjoying the feast and conversation, but I am afraid I must remind you why we all have gathered here. There are many issues we must discuss to keep our kingdom safe, and the problems aren't going to fix themselves. So, I declare that this conversation must commence."

People began murmuring amongst themselves, the whispers creating a buzz throughout the room. I watched everyone, and waited for something to happen. I had no idea how this worked.

I peered over at Lazarus, and he whispered, "You're not required to participate, although I doubt you'll be able to resist."

I quirked a brow. What did that mean?

"We're going to be discussing the issues of our world," he told me, before turning to the crowd.

The first to speak was the Heir of Persephone. His hair was curly and blonde, mimicking Persephone's famous golden locks, and he had big, beautiful green eyes.

"The underworld is a growing threat," he spoke to the crowd. "Hades, God of the underworld, is trying to keep my mother, Persephone, in his territory longer than he ever has before. He is growing in power, and eventually will want to keep her with him full-time."

"But Hades and Demeter agreed to share Persephone," Soren responded. "He cannot keep her longer than they agreed, or he will suffer the consequences."

"Not if he's ready to fight whomever is supposed to deliver those consequences," the man said, his tone becoming impatient.

Soren held up a hand. "Enough. I will deal with Hades when and if he formally breaks the treaty."

Everyone on Earth had heard the stories of Hades and his wicked, conniving ways. However, I never really had believed him to be a true threat; more of a trickster from underground.

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