Persephone

Persephone is the Goddess of Spring, promised to The King of the Underworld.
Can she learn to survive in the land of the dead? Or will she join the dead herself?

- A modern take on the popular Greek Mythology tale.

EXCERPT: They walked along a thick strip of black carpet, trimmed with silver embroidery. A cathedral worthy window sat above the throne, shining like the sun.

But none of this mattered.
For the throne itself was the masterpiece of the room. It's backrest spanned right up to the base of the high standing window. It almost looked to be made of obsidian, carved into the souls like the river, with gems adorning the frightening structure.

The man that sat on it watched her approach with a piercing gaze. His eyes were the clearest of blues, like fire, yet impossibly cold. As with all gods he was breathtaking to behold, with a strong chiselled jaw with a mouth permanently set to frown. Deep set eyebrows to accentuate the soul piercing stare, set into pale skin, like snow.

Hair as black as night sat perfectly on his head. His black suit tailored inch for inch to his liking, she had no doubt at who she was being brought before.
His long slender fingers brushed over the light stubble on his chin. He wasn't built strong like her father, but she knew he could hold his own in battle.

Zeus stood by the throne, looking at Persephone and then to the man in the throne. As if checking for his thoughts on her arrival.
Persephone tried to infuse her stare with hatred, in opposition to his seeming disdain.

"Persephone," Zeus interrupted, breaking both of them with the authority in his voice, "Welcome to the Underworld."