Chapter 224: Chapter 68
Hera saw the subtle change in his eyes, the quiet storm that finally revealed itself in the faint tremor of his gaze, and at last, she allowed herself to smile, a small but triumphant curve of her lips.
Slowly, with measured grace, she stepped forward across the marble floor of the grand hall, her white hair spilling like liquid silver down her back, her crimson dress swaying gently with each movement, until she stood only a few steps away from him.
She raised her hand, the gold of her finger catching the faint glow of the underworld torches, and pointed it toward him as though she were a judge passing a sentence.
Her voice rang out, steady and regal, carrying both the weight of her pride and the vulnerability of her heart.
"Here is question one," she declared, her golden eyes piercing through him. "Did my poem resonate with you?"
Hades did not hesitate, for hesitation would be a lie. His voice was low and calm, yet it carried the heaviness of conviction. "Yes."
Hera’s lips curved wider, satisfaction flickering across her face, and she moved one step forward again, closing part of the distance between them.
"Question two," she continued, her tone sharper now, though her gaze softened ever so slightly, "what would you feel if I were to find someone else?"
For the first time, the king of the dead felt the air tighten in his chest, yet he answered with truth, unclouded by hesitation or pride.
"Like my heart would shatter to pieces, as if my soul would tear itself apart. I cannot bear it."
Her smile deepened, radiant, and with another step forward, she erased more of the space between them, the torchlight painting her pale skin in molten gold.
"Question three," she said, her voice dipping lower, heavy with meaning. "What do you feel about me?"
Hades met her eyes. His reply came slowly, heavy with the weight of his struggle, but unflinchingly honest.
"I do not know if what I feel is love, or possessiveness, or something beyond words. But I know this—I do not want to lose you. I want you by my side."
A faint shimmer appeared in Hera’s golden eyes, though her smile remained unbroken.
She nodded, acknowledging his honesty as though it were the finest gift he could have given her, and took another step forward.
Now her presence pressed upon him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her aura.
"Question four," she whispered, her voice softer, though it carried a dangerous edge of demand, "If I were to stay by your side, would you cherish me?"
This time, Hades did not falter, his answer ringing like steel. "More than I cherish my throne and domain."
Hera closed the final gap, taking one more step until only a breath separated them, her perfume mingling faintly with the dry chill of his presence, the contrast almost intoxicating.
Her golden eyes never left his as she raised her finger once more, the gesture now trembling with the gravity of her next words.
"Then...my final question," she said, each word sharp and clear as though carved into stone, "Hades, King of the Underworld, Lord of the Dead, I ask you this, if I gave you the possession of my heart, would you entrust me with yours?"
Silence held for a fleeting moment, a silence so heavy it seemed the entire Underworld waited on his answer.
Then Hades spoke, his voice low, unshaken, resonant. "Yes. My heart, my soul, I will entrust them to you."
At that, Hera laughed, the sound not mocking but bright and triumphant, a rare sound that seemed to chase away the gloom of the chamber itself.
Without another word, she moved forward, swift and decisive, and captured his lips with her own.
Her kiss was not tentative, nor soft—it was fierce, claiming, burning with the passion and weight of centuries of unspoken feelings.
And for once, Hades did not resist, allowing himself to yield, to return her fire with the depth of his own silent longing.
Hera deepened the kiss as if pouring into it the weight of centuries, the eons of longing and love she had buried deep within her heart, every ounce of frustration, fear, jealousy, and yearning vented in that single desperate embrace.
Her lips pressed against his with trembling fervor, and for the first time in countless ages, she had allowed herself to be vulnerable, to abandon dignity and restraint, to claim him with the hunger of a woman who had waited far too long.
Slowly, reluctantly, the kiss broke, their lips parting with a thin thread of warmth that seemed to linger in the air between them.
Hera’s face flushed crimson, her breath uneven, but her smile shone like the dawn, radiant and unrestrained, the smile of someone who had finally touched the edge of her deepest desire.
Her golden eyes, still hazy from passion, studied him, and what she saw sent another rush of heat across her cheeks—Hades’ own gaze was clouded, heavy, predatory, like a beast restraining itself only by will.
She could almost hear the pounding of his heart in her ears, could almost believe that the stoic lord of the dead was moments away from devouring her whole.
Embarrassed, Hera quickly stepped back, her composure faltering, and at that moment Hades blinked, his purple eyes clearing, the haze dissipating as though a fog had lifted.
Hera’s lips trembled, her fingers twisting together as she stuttered out words that made her feel like a girl rather than a goddess.
"H-Hades... when you stayed the night at Aphrodite’s temple... did you... did you really do... you know..." She trailed off, her voice almost breaking, her entire face red with shame at even uttering the question.
Hades tilted his head slightly, his expression calm, almost oblivious. "Do what?"
Hera’s face burned even hotter, and she stammered, eyes darting away from his steady gaze. "Y-you know... ’that’..."
Hades blinked once, realization dawning with his usual bluntness. "Oh. You mean sex? Yes, we did."
Hera froze as though struck, her cheeks glowing as though molten gold flowed beneath her skin, her breath catching in her throat.
Her hands clenched at her sides, and she stuttered, barely able to speak. "T-then... what about me? What do you... what do you think about me? Do you... want to do it with me too?"
Hades did not hesitate, his words as simple and direct as a blade’s edge. "Yes. I absolutely would."
For a moment Hera’s knees threatened to buckle beneath her, her heart soaring with joy so overwhelming it made her lightheaded.
A wide, trembling smile bloomed across her face, yet at the same time she lifted her hands, crossing her right and left index fingers together in a firm X.
"I-I am happy, truly happy... but... it is not the time yet. That will wait until we are married."
Hades inclined his head with calm acceptance, his answer steady and unbothered. "Mn. It is not as if I am some sex-driven maniac. I am neither Zeus nor Poseidon, competing to see who can scatter the most seeds across the realms."
The corner of Hera’s lips twitched upward at his dry remark, her heart warming at the quiet dignity with which he accepted her boundary.
With a soft breath, she lifted her hand and snapped her fingers. At once, the grand hall shifted; divine spirits and heroic shades appeared from the shadows, carrying lyres, flutes, drums, and harps.
The torches dimmed, the golden chandeliers faded into darkness, until only a single radiant beam of light cascaded down from above, bathing them in its brilliance.
Hera extended her hand, graceful and inviting, her voice hushed yet commanding. "We can’t do it yet, so... how about you dance with me for now?"
Hades raised an eyebrow, his tone faintly reluctant. "I am not skilled in dancing."
Hera shook her head, her white hair glimmering in the faint light, and she smiled, warm and certain. "I do not mind. As long as it is you."
With a small sigh, Hades placed his hand in hers, and together they stepped into the circle of light as the music began, soft and melodic, wrapping around them like an enchantment.
They moved slowly, Hera guiding him with gentle nudges, their bodies close but restrained, their steps uncertain yet intimate.
As they swayed, Hera lowered her voice, confessing with a vulnerability she rarely showed.
She spoke of her fears, of the endless nights she had wondered if he would ever see her, of the jealousy that gnawed at her whenever Aphrodite’s name left his lips, of the despair that threatened to consume her when she thought rejection was inevitable.
Yet she also spoke of the happiness that filled her heart when he did not turn her away, when he answered her questions with truth, when he held her with the promise of cherishing her.
Hades remained silent, his expression unreadable, but he did not look away, his gaze fixed entirely on her as though the rest of the world had vanished.
He did not interrupt, he did not offer words to soothe, he simply listened, his stillness speaking louder than any vow, his presence itself an embrace.
The music swelled, reaching its final crescendo, and their dance slowed to a stop.
Hera’s smile faltered, bittersweet, as though the end of the song was a cruel reminder that moments such as this could not last forever.
She stared at Hades with glistening eyes, her golden irises trembling with intensity, and her lips parted with words that burned from the depths of her soul.
"Hades... I love you."
Before he could answer, Hera leaned forward, closing the space between them, and pressed her lips against his once more.
This kiss was gentler, steadier than the first, but no less passionate, a kiss that was not desperate but certain, carrying within it her devotion, her vow, and her triumph.