Calla squeaks and flees from the room. I sigh and turn around.

"Can you stop doing that? You're going to give her a heart attack."

The corners of Hades' eyes crease. "Calla is already dead, Evie. She cannot have a heart attack."

"That's not the point I'm trying to make!" I splutter, throwing a card in his direction. Hades catches it without moving a muscle. I glower at him.

"What is the point you are attempting to make?" He places the card down on the bed next to him.

"Stop zip-zapping everywhere and scaring my friend! And stop being so casual about it all!" I toss another card at him. I feel an odd sense of satisfaction when it hits him square in the face.

"Would you stop throwing cards at me?"

"Maybe." I huff over-dramatically. "Would you stop keeping secrets?"

The smile drops so quickly from Hades' face you'd think I'd slapped him. His tone turns icy.

"No. I cannot."

I falter, taking a step back. "I'm sorry. I was only joking around. I know you can't."

Hades' expression doesn't lighten at my apology. "Never bring it up, not even in jest. You may not believe me, but I do not enjoy keeping secrets. Particularly from you."

Inwardly, I sigh. But outwardly, I nod.

"Okay." His eyebrow raises slightly, and I shrug. "I mean it. Okay. I trust that you'll tell me. Eventually."

"Why?" Hades asks, his voice soft. He elaborates when he catches the look of confusion twisting my face up. "Why do you trust me?"

"I don't know; you asked me to?" My nose crinkles up in confusion. Hades tilts his head to the side questioningly, so I pause as I think. "I know that we're only just getting to know each other, and that we hadn't really met before Spencer 'died,' but I feel like I've known you my whole life. You feel familiar. And for some strange reason, I trust you completely."

Hades doesn't respond; he just watches me with an unreadable expression. I gingerly sit down on the edge of my bed, leaning back against the bedpost.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"No reason." He says mildly. In a blink he's standing in front of me, shuffling a pack of cards. "So, how good do you think you are at poker?"

I can't stop the self-assured smirk that spreads across my lips. "I'm alright. I was taught by Spencer, after all."

"Very well then." He clicks his fingers, and a table and chair appear in front of us. Hades sits down, his eyes sparkling. "If you truly believe yourself to be that good, then I'm sure you would not mind playing me for a few rounds."

"Play you?" I blink, taken aback. "You want to play me at poker? For what, money?"

"Well, I am sure that we can find a more interesting currency if that is what you wish." Hades shuffles the cards so quickly between his hands that they become a blue blur. He arches an eyebrow at me. "Unless, of course, your hesitation is your humble way of admitting defeat?"

"Are you, Hades, Lord of the Underworld, baiting me?" I scoff and narrow my eyes. He doesn't respond, his eyebrow only arching higher. "Oh, you're on. We will play poker, but only if I get to decide the currency."

"Very well. What do you suggest we use as currency?"

"Secrets." I propose, without hesitation. His brows furrow slightly, so I elaborate. "Every time we lose, we have to answer a question the other person—"

"I accept." Hades interrupts, placing the cards on the table with a crisp snap. He looks up and motions to the chair in front of me. "Shall we begin?"

— — —

"Okay, that's it." I cross my arms childishly and scowl at him. "How are you doing this? You can't be that good at poker!"

It takes me an embarrassingly long time to realise that I'd stupidly agreed to play poker with Hades. I don't know how he did it, but he had some sort of uncanny knack of knowing exactly when I was bluffing. Every. Single. Time. Which meant that I ended up revealing a lot more to him than I intended; more than I had ever revealed to anyone — even Spencer.

The first round we played, I lost. So he found out about my tattoo; an orchid on my ankle, my sister's favourite flower.

The second round I lost as well. So he found out about the time that I nearly drowned in the ocean when I was six. That was a secret that seemed to genuinely shock him — which I didn't think was even possible.

I also lost the third, fourth, six, seventh, ninth and tenth rounds. So Hades found out about the pet hamster I accidentally killed by burying alive (how was I to know hamsters hibernated at that age?), my relationship count (which was, sadly, still at 0), why I never wear socks (it's not my fault my feet feel too claustrophobic) and several other cheek-burning secrets.

He revealed two secrets. Two.

One — he was a big dog person (big surprise there). And two — he hated losing (at least we had that in common).

Finally, my infuriation at the continuous butt-whooping I was receiving finally manages to take the reins, resulting in me throwing my cards down and huffing loudly.

Hades raises an eyebrow at my outburst, placing his cards face-up on the table. My scowl deepens at his hand.

Well, there goes another round to him.

"What can I say? I am extremely adept at knowing when people are lying."

"Well, that's not fair!" I complain. "How can I expect to win if you've got a secret power up your sleeve? You shouldn't be allowed to use your secret powers to beat me!"

"Is winning the game not allowed now?" He chuckles, gathering up the cards and shuffling them expertly.

"Not the way you're winning. You're cheating. That's just... it's not cool."

"I am not cheating." Hades replies sincerely. I scoff. "Shall we play again, so I can prove that?"

"You can't—"

My response is cut off by a big yawn. My eyes flicker up to the clock and widen when I realise what the time is. We'd been going for nearly two and a half hours. Suddenly, I'm extremely aware of the situation I'm in. I inadvertently blush.

"Actually, it's getting pretty late..."

"Say no more." Hades stands up. As soon as he does so, the table and chair disappear, along with the cards. He slips his hands in his pockets and looks at me, his expression as unreadable as always. "I do have one last request before I leave, though."

"What is it?"

"I believe that, as I won that last round, you owe me one more secret."

"Fine." My eyes narrow good-naturedly. "What's your question?"

"Why do you hate secrets?"

His calmly-asked question floors me. My whole body freezes, as if hit by a mallet of ice. I blink at him several times, feeling the ever-familiar mask of indifference instinctively sweeping over my features. I clear my throat and lower my gaze.

"Ask me another question."

Hades gives me a quizzical look. "I'm sorry?"

"I won't answer that. Ask me another question." My tone is more forceful this time.

I feel the hot prick of his gaze on my face, but refuse to meet it. When I finally do look up, there's a singular emotion burning in his midnight-blue eyes.

Understanding.

"I will save my question for another time, then." Hades inclines his head at me. He gives me a small smile. "Good night, Evie."

With a swish from his long black trench coat, he clicks his fingers and disappears from sight.

— — —

The next morning, I sleep in for the first time since I'd arrived in the Underworld. It's not until the clock is crawling close to midday that I finally wake up, confused and bewildered as to why I'd not been woken up earlier; that's when I realise that, also for the first time since I'd arrived in the Underworld, Calla hadn't come to wake me up. I didn't even realise until that moment that I'd grown accustomed to my own little routine, and to be completely honest, that little shift threw me completely.

By the time I finally manage to get out of bed and shower, it's already well-past midday, and my stomach is growling ferociously. So, I make the executive decision to find the kitchen. The trouble was, I didn't actually know where it was. Calla had always brought me my breakfast, and I'd always found myself in a big hall for lunch; how I got there, I never really knew. But finding that hall seemed like the best place to start, so I decide to try my luck at locating it.

Even though it's such a small experience, it feels weird finally leaving my room. Obviously I'd left it before, but I was always in the company of Hades, Calla or another servant. I'd never actually left by myself — particularly since the doorknob incident all those weeks ago. I may have kicked up a fuss about it at the time, but when I was finally provided with the opportunity to leave, I didn't know what to do with myself. I was just little old me, and Hades' castle was massive. If I wasn't careful, I just knew that I'd easily get lost, and I wasn't sure I knew enough people down here to save me.

But then again, desperate times call for desperate measures, and a hungry Evie was definitely desperate Evie.

What I didn't realise until I started exploring, however, was just how massive the palace really was. I wandered down hallways and through rooms for what felt like hours, only to succeed in making myself even more lost. I discovered humongous lounges, adorned with majestic fireplaces and big velvet couches, several similarly-sized bedrooms, and my personal favourite: an enormous, majestic, bookshelf-laden library. The book nerd within me desperately wanted to stay and explore the library some more, but by that point my growling stomach had evolved into a roaring monster, so I hurried off and mentally reminded myself to ask someone for directions for next time.

Weirdly enough, though, in all my explorations I didn't come across a single person. I'd assumed that the big palace would be teeming with life, but either they were all extremely quiet, or just didn't want to see me, because I didn't encounter anyone.

So when I stumbled around a corner and saw someone walking away with what looked like a handful of dirty dishes, we can all safely assume that I sprinted after them like a starving woman would towards the buffet of her dreams.

"Hey!" I call out, panting slightly. The person pauses, turning around to reveal a young olive-skinned woman. She stares at me, her pixie-like features creased with wariness.

"Can I help you?" She asks, eyeing me up and down. I try not to shrink back under her judgmental gaze.

"No, I'm just running after you for the hell of it." I snap sarcastically. A finely styled eyebrow shoots up at my choice of words. "I'm sorry. That was rude. I'm just really hungry, and I was really hoping you might be able to lead me to the promised land."

"You're dead." The girl replies, not unkindly. "You don't need to eat. In fact, you shouldn't be here at all. How did you get past Cerberus? I should really be calling security..."

"Wait, that's it? You die and you stop needing to eat food?" I stare at her incredulously. "What kind of Elysium is this?"

The girl snorts and turns away. "You got me. Now wait here; someone will be along shortly to escort you to your Elysium."

"No please, wait!" I start after her, grabbing her arm. She freezes in her tracks. Her eyes widen as she turns to stare at me. "What? Oh I'm sorry, are you one of those personal space people?"

"You're hot." She whispers. She grabs my wrist, and her striking amethyst eyes get even wider. "And you have a pulse! How is that possible?"

"Um, genetics?" I look at her weirdly. "All living things have a pulse?"

"You're alive?" She gawks at me. "How are you here?"

I stare at her in complete confusion for several seconds. Then my mind connects the dots. "Oh, right, realm of the dead! Yes, I'm alive; I'm just staying here for four months to pay off a deal I made with Hades."

Recognition dawns on her face. If possible, she scrutinises me even harder. "You're Evie?"

"I was the last time I checked. Right now, though, I'm hungry more than anything else." I smile pleadingly. "Could you...?"

She starts, blinking several times. "Oh yes, of course! I was just heading to the kitchen anyway. Follow me."

"You're a lifesaver." I reply gratefully, hurrying after her. "Thank you."

"No problem. I'm Kezia, by the way."

"Kezia." I nod, making note of her name. "You know, I don't mean to offend you at all when I say this, but... I have to say, you're exactly the kind of person I expected to find when I first came down here."

Kezia raises her eyebrows. "What do you mean by that?"

I gesture to her black clothes, blood-red hair and heavyset eyeliner. "I don't know, more...."

"Gothic? That's extremely stereotypical of you." I flinch at the bite in her tone. She grins. "Relax, I'm kidding. This is just my most recent getup. I was getting sick of all the Victorian corsets; modern corsets are so much more comfortable."

I gape at her. "Wait, how old are you?"

"How old is the universe?" Kezia quips back. She snickers when my face scrunches up in confusion. "You might find it more beneficial to ask who I am rather than how old I am."

"Who you are?" Kezia waits in bemused silence as I visibly tick over her words. My eyes widen rapidly. "Oh! Are you saying that you're a goddess?"

"One could say that, yes." She shrugs, pushing open a door and gesturing me inside.

"Who are you then? Wait, no, let me guess!" I say eagerly, ducking my head as I walk through the doorway. Warmth smacks me in the face as I'm greeted by the sight of a large, rustic-looking kitchen. Mouthwatering smells waft over to us from the large ovens coating one of the walls, and several people chatter softly as they bustle around the room like bees.

Kezia turns to me with a bemused expression. "Go on, then."

"Alright, let me see." I hum, tapping my chin as I pretend to think. "A goddess, who willingly lives in the Underworld, and genuinely enjoys wearing corsets..." I click my fingers and point at her. "You're Hecate!"

"Give the girl a gold star, she knows her Greek deities!" Kezia bows sarcastically. "Original Witch and Ruler of the Night, at your service."

I can't help but laugh at her. "So what exactly is it that you do down here? Turn the dead into slugs to entertain yourself?"

"Oh, you know, just the general blood sacrifice every other week. I'm kidding." She laughs at the horrified look on my face. "I help Hades monitor his on-Earth agents most of the time. When I'm really bored, I cook."

"His on-Earth agents?" I gape. "You cook?"

"You'd probably know his agents more commonly as ghosts." She grins when my jaw drops. "Yes, before you ask, ghosts are real. What you mortals don't know, however, is those ghosts are actually just spirits Hades has employed to be his agents on the ground, to keep him up to date with what's happening on Ground Zero. That was my idea, initially; it's why I'm the goddess of ghosts and necromancy. And I mostly like to cook savoury meals, but I do like to experiment with the odd sweet dish. I don't know what it is; I guess I just love cooking with meat."

"There are so many things that I want to unpack in that; I literally don't know where to begin."

Kezia laughs. Winking at me, she puts the plates in a sink and claps her hands. Suddenly the kitchen explodes into life, as if the mere sight of Kezia magically made the quiet workers furiously work themselves into a frenzy.

"I'll tell you what. I'll cook you up something real nice, and we can have a big ol' chat about it all."

I can't help the big grin that spreads across my face at her offer. It's like a splash of fresh water after dealing with Hades and his tepid secrecy for so long. "You're kidding."

"Deadly serious." She smirks at her own joke, wiping her hands on a towel. "What do you want, princess? I'll make you anything."

"Anything?" I ask, and she nods. "Well, in that case, I'd love a big dish of lasagna, with a side of don't ever call me that."

Kezia gives me a sly smile. "As you wish, your highness."

— — —

I end up spending a large portion of my afternoon in the kitchen with Kezia, alternating between talking to her and helping her with the many things she ended up cooking.

She didn't actually say anything about it to me, but I got the feeling that she was secretly grateful for the company. While noisy, her kitchen helpers appeared to be nothing but blank slates in human bodies. I think she was thankful that she had someone around who could actually hold an intelligent conversation.

I was eventually kicked out, though, when I accidentally knocked over the big trifle she'd been slaving over for a couple of hours. I apologised profusely for my clumsiness, but I still think she wished the jam on the floor was my blood; she very nearly knocked me out cold with a punch. Despite the less-than-ideal ending to our afternoon together, though, she promised to come and find me when she had a spare moment; and I was going to hold her to that. Even though Kezia had an incredibly abrasive personality, and, quite frankly, scared me more than I'd like to admit, I got the feeling she'd become one of my closer friends throughout my stay here. She was like a fresh slap to the face, and in the dull environment of the Underworld, I really needed that.

Before I'd royally pissed Kezia off, I'd managed to extract a map of sorts from her regarding the palace layout. So, once she unceremoniously slammed the door in my face, I set out exploring again, determined to find the library. Ironically enough, once I actually had some inkling of where I was going, the palace became ten times easier to navigate, and I ended up finding the library extremely quickly.

The moment I walk through the large mahogany doors, a gasp escapes me, my eyes widening in wonder. The room in front of me is absolutely beautiful. The walls are covered from top to bottom in elegant, arching, wooden bookshelves, full to the brim with books of different sizes, shapes and colours. Ornate crystal chandeliers dangle down from the ceiling, sending golden light skittering around the room like miniature stars. Sitting in front of the crackling, flickering fire is a luscious, forest-green sofa, adorned with an array of intricately embroidered cushions. There's even a rustic wooden ladder leaning delicately against a nearby bookshelf. It looks like a typical, old-style library from a movie, and it takes all my restraint not to squeal like an over-excited fangirl. I can already tell I'm going to spend a lot of my time in here.

Shutting the doors quietly behind me, I hum softly to myself as I let my gaze stream over the books stacked in the shelves. It doesn't take me long to spot some of the classics, like Beowulf or Homer's The Odyssey, but a lot of the titles I don't recognise, and some aren't even in English. After a few minutes, I begin to recognise a trend in the book topics; they're all related to mythology.

I can't help but grin to myself at that. Maybe Hades was more vain than I initially pegged him to be.