THE HALL OF HADES WAS JUST AS TERRIFYING AS I REMEMBERED.

Waves of sheer power rolling off him, the King of the Underworld led me through his silent courtroom as all his ministers rose. Every step he took seemed to shake the floor, the ceiling, the very roots of the room. A predatory smile graced his features as we walked, my hand in his - past the waiting shades, the wide eyed judges, past a perplexed Thanatos, and a scowling Hecate. The last two of them stood waiting by the throne - two thrones, in fact... right in the center of the room.

The intimidating structures of granite and obsidian stood high, topped by wicked looking spires shining dangerously in the light of a thousand chandeliers above our heads. Blood red velvet lined the seat and armrests. A strange symbol - the symbol of the House of Hades, was etched on his throne, while a single rose lay carved into mine.

He led me through the steps, and only when I sat down, did his hand leave mine.

The entire courtroom let out a collective breath and sat down after him.

"Your Queen will be joining us today. I expect you all to behave," his voice rumbled through the hall, a study in sheer, commanding power. Every person in the room nodded, sinking to their knees in a deep, reverant bow as they acknowledged my presence.

The adulation, the respect - it was something else entirely. Never had I felt so drunk, so high on something. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, washing away the remnants of any nervousness. I sat up higher, straightening my back.

"I vow to rule my subjects with fairness and mercy, to honour your laws and customs, to protect you all till the last breath leaves my body. I hope I do not disappoint."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow of a smile flit through Hades' face.

"Persephone, meet the judges. Aeacus, Minos and Rhadamanthys are the sons of Zeus and Europa. Their decisions separate the good from the wicked, the lawful from the unlawful. They judge the souls in accordance with my laws and pay the greatest heed to justice."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, my lords."

"The pleasure is ours, my Queen," Aeacus gave me a generous smile from his seat. On the other side of the table, Rhadamanthys sadly nodded at me. Minos sat in the middle, a golden sceptre in hand, a stone mask on his face, and a pile of parchment right in front of him. A pot of ink and an army of finely sharpened quills rested beside the papers. As human, he had been a king and a lawgiver. When he died, Hades himself appointed him his master of justice for there was no one better to deliver the firm sentences of law.

The Underworld's system of justice was nothing if not fair. So fair, in fact - it was fair to the point of being exceedingly cruel.

The Furies, or the three sisters of Fate - wrote every person's destiny, including when they were born and when they died. Thanatos collected their souls after their time was up, travelling through space, time and freezing winds to deliver them unscathed to the gate of the Underworld. The souls, or shades - as referred to in the Underworld - paid Charon for safe passage across the river, where Hecate rounded them up and brought them to the judges for questioning.

Heroes and demigods were sent to Elysium. The judges reserved it only for the souls of the highest order - only those truly virtuous, making a significant impact on the lives of those around them. When I was but a mere babe, my Mother would sing to me the tales of the mighty Achilles and Cadmus, of Peleus and Socrate - stars who shone the brightest in mortality's sea of despair, all of whom attained Elysium after their deaths.

Those who entered the coveted Elysium had an option to choose - either stay on in the Elysian Fields forever, or ask for rebirth. If they pleaded rebirth, Hades himself was obliged to give them an audience after deliberating whether to grant their wish. However, the wheel of paradise didn't stop here.

Only, and if only - a soul was reborn thrice and attained Elysium thrice - they achieved the highest level of satisfaction, a priceless reward beyond anything they could ever dream.

The Isles of the Blest.

Better known as eternal luxury.

They said that the towers there kissed the night sky, that at sundown, the moon came down to play with the very few, very lucky inhabitants of the Isles. The soul could have every luxury they could dream of - every wish fulfilled in their tiny bubble. The splendour of the Isles was rumoured to beat even that of Olympus, and the accommodations there were second... only to that of Hades' own home - our home.

The wicked, on the other hand - there was no rest for the wicked.

Murderers, thieves, robbers, criminals - they thought they knew hell, until the King threw them into his version of hell. Tartarus itself, the dungeon of despair and pain, the prison of the Titans... this was where they were sent. Rumour had it that he flung them into the cells of Tartarus with unrivaled fury, into cells that had no beginning and no end.

Sometimes, though - if Hades were feeling generous - very, very generous, he allowed the lesser criminals to repent for their sins in order to avoid Tartarus. Those punishments were equally as severe, if not more, but it allowed them to escape a lifetime of eternal torture.

Even deeper down into Tartarus was the Last Circle of Hell - the very place where Kronos himself, the master of destruction, sat locked into an unbreakable prison, the only key of which lay with the King of the Underworld. No one knew how to get him out, and no one knew how to put him in, except Hades.

It was here that the judges sent down the most perverted, most disgusting examples of humanity. Souls beyond any help from any force of nature. Rapists and the like. Even Thanatos had shuddered to tell me more about what happened in those cells when I nagged him for answers, simply stating that you must stay away from that dreadful place, my Queen. Even being near that hell will give you the most torturous nightmares.

Once the good and the wicked were accounted for, there still remained the ordinary. The normal mortals. If the shade hadn't committed any significant crimes or hadn't achieved any glorious feat either, they sent it to the Asphodel Meadows. It was built for those souls who had no other place to go.

A perfect system, one would think.

But a harsh one.

The whispering of the dull, grey skinned souls grew restless and incessant, their wispy forms shifting in the darkness like shadows, weaving in and out of the light. Their limbs were made of smoke but the more I looked, the sharper their features were.

Hades leaned back, a master eyeing his subjects, and crossed his fingers together, tucking them under his chin.

"Begin."

One of Hecate's ivory clad acolytes stepped forward, a tiny bundle shifting fitfully in her arms. Hoarse cries bubbled in the air as I shifted slightly in my seat to get a better look. Beside me, Hades let out a soft sigh - one that sounded almost like a sorrowful prayer to whatever demons lay locked in his head.

A - a baby. A girl. It was the soul of a tiny newborn.

I almost broke into tears at the sight of the tiny, wispy arms struggling to break free of the silk wrapped around her. Something like a sob worked its way out of my throat. Even Hecate looked crestfallen, the colour gone out of the cheeks.

"Who is this, Rosamund?" Rhadamanthys inquired mildly. The young woman sadly looked at the squirming newborn in her arms.

"She was born with a birth defect that made it hard for her to breathe. Her mother left her on the riverbank, hoping that someone would find her and take her in. And..."

"And?"

"And..." Rosamund voice cracked. "She froze to death before the moon rose. Her body couldn't brave the cold."

Tears pooled in my eyes.

A ring of mournful sounds echoed off the walls of the room. Hades' hand tightened on his armrest, a vein in his temple throbbing. I could see how matters like these... were difficult. He did not like it either. I found myself wondering how he carried on day after day, year after year - doing this.

"Devils," he gritted his teeth, muttering under his breath.

"Unfortunate as it is, my Lord... this matter must be dealt with." Minos stood. "The baby has neither done good nor bad in her life. There is only one place we can send her."

"Asphodel it is, then," the King nodded. I could feel the anger, the tension rolling off him in waves.

The judges had just handed the shade back to Rosamund before I raised my voice.

"Wait!"

The entire courtroom turned to look back at me.

"Persephone?" Hades looked at me, puzzled. "Are you alright?"

"You can't just send her there!

A stern look of disapproval flitted through Minos' eyes, as Thanatos kept turning his gaze between the King and me. Hecate's eyebrows were raised so high that I feared them vanishing under the elegant headgear gracing her head.

"My Queen, this job requires certain sacrifices -" Aeacus began hesitantly, before Hades cut him off with a death glare, anger boiling in his face.

"If you ever question my wife's authority again, you will find another master to serve, Aeacus," his words were firm, demanding and underlined with furiosity.

The judge's words stuttered off into the silence as Hades turned to me.

"Well, Persephone. If not Asphodel, where do you propose we send the newborn?"

I could sense every eye in the room watching me, cautiously awaiting my judgement. Every fiber on his face gauged me, sensed me - looking into my eyes to search for a kernel of truth. His eyes lightened a notch, dark irises observing me intently, hanging on my every word.

This was a test. Even if he didn't speak it out loud - this was a test.

I pushed off the cloak of insecurity stealthily enveloping me, gulping down the nervousness. A minute it took me to find my voice as I measured my words very, very carefully after finding the courage to speak.

"You said it yourself, my King. Death is a painful business. This child has only known pain in its short life. As masters of her fate, can we not give her the gift of some fairness in a world where cruel mothers abandon their newborns? She deserves to find some peace after death - in the hands of a new mother. Surely the Underworld houses the souls of mothers who died in childbirth. Mothers who were good. Good, and innocent, and taken too soon from their children. Can we not ease the suffering of one such innocent shade by giving her the gift of new life in the form of this newborn?"

Around me, the room went still.

Panic shot in my veins like a vengeful monster. This was it - I was done for. One wrong word - oh, why did I not keep my mouth shut like Mother had told me to?

And then I saw an impressed, proud smile on the face of the man sitting beside me. And then I glanced over the court - at the judges nodding, clearly taken aback but pleasantly surprised. Near the throne, Thanatos was grinning, and even Hecate's scowl had been wiped off her face.

Oh my, my, my.

"That is... an excellent suggestion," Hades beamed for the first time since we entered, and his hand found mine, squeezing it gently. A welcoming warmth coursed through me, and the feeling was heady, leaving me giddy and breathless. "My lord Minos, do you concur?"

"A fortunate solution to a sad situation, indeed. I shall have Triptolemos scour the good people of Elysium to find the child a new home," the man shrugged, banging his gavel. "Next!"

"You did well," Hades whispered into my ear, his lips skimming gently on my skin like a breathless lover. I tried not to smile too wide, but it was difficult. For the first time in my miserable life, I felt heard. Heard, and valued.

Thanatos brought forward the next shade, his face grave.

"State your name," Rhadamanthys rumbled, eyes narrowed.

The back of the wizened soul was bent over as he tottered warily on a stick, his thin robes flapping about in the wind.

"Daedalus, if it please my Lord-"

"You killed five men," Aeacus mused, scratching his chin as his finger leafed through a stack of pages. "Stabbed them with your staff, tied them up while they were unconscious - doused them in incense before burning them alive. You are High Priest of your temple, are you not?"

"They threatened to destroy our temples, my Lord!" the old man waved his frail hand animatedly, madness shining in his eyes. "They threatened to steal our gods, to take away our holy places of worship, to tear down our sanctum and rebuild it anew for their vile offerings! They deserved a lesson - to threaten us with their unholy promises is only an invitation of death!"

"Who are they?" Hades demanded, his voice low, and very, very... dangerous.

"Heretics! Monsters! Sons of vileness, so rotten that their insides curdle! Liars and practitioners of black magic, oh mighty Polydegmon! The end of the world is upon us!"

Hades sucked in a low breath, face hardening.

"And why exactly did they want to defile your religion?"

"The plague is upon us, my King! They seek to steal our worship and sell it for grain!"

A dark frown appeared between the King's eyebrows.

"A plague? I see," he leaned forward, fingers ticking on the armrest. "What is it, goddess?"

Hecate rose from her seat, already unscrolling a roll of parchment from the pile on her lap. Her eyes gleamed as she found the information she sought.

"There have been worrying reports," the wild, unearthly goddess muttered. "The number of deaths rose significantly while you were gone the last two weeks. Three days ago, the council brought in a man who claimed to have seen masked robbers stealing all his possessions. And last week, a dozen farmers committed suicide after their harvest fell short."

"So it is true," Hades nodded quietly, the wheels in his head working. "A plague, is it?"

"Helios sees everything, but we have not heard from him or Zeus, my Lord. But there is a pattern. Someone is behind this."

"I suppose I shall have to attend the council meeting at Olympus," he spoke half heartedly, lip curling in a sneer.

"If I may, Hades - your presence isn't exactly welcome there," Hecate spoke, her words low. "Should I arrange for a private audience with King Zeus instead?"

He sighed.

"Do that. My brother owes me that much. In the meantime, let us get to the task on hand. You," he nodded at Daedalus, "you are a piece of work. You call yourself a man of god and yet you burned not one, but five people alive."

"No, my King - spare me, I beg you! I have been a good priest, have I not? Served my people for years and years - oh decades of servitude have I offered to my worship of your likeness!"

"You deny stealing all the offerings made to the temple so that you could walk into the brothel with your pockets full?" Rhadamanthys questioned. The Priest's face paled.

Daedalus sank to his knees, falling to our feet, weeping as he beat his staff on the unyielding ground. Tears streamed down his face as he begged.

"My King... my Queen..." he wept, "have I not been a loyal servant? I beg you - let me go. I will change. I promise. I spent hours and hours in the study of devotion, will you not spare your faithful serv-"

He reached out to grab my feet as I coiled back.

"Keep your hands off her," Hades snapped. The man reeled back, scurrying on his feet as nearly collided with the floor. He turned ever so slightly, finally facing me. "What do you think, my Queen?"

"I think... the bad you did in your life far, far outweighs the good. You may have been a good man, Daedalus, but killing is a crime. One that is not taken lightly here," I murmured.

The King nodded at Minos.

"Tartarus!"

"In Tartarus, they will bathe you in incense and sink you into an ocean of fire, and you will burn - burn day and night for one year and a half - burn just the way you burned your men. And after that - if you behave, I might just let you return to your pathetic life. Get out."

I watched, rapt in attention - as the day unfolded like perfectly planned clockwork, smoothly sorting through atleast a dozen more cases. Hades and his council were like one mind, working together in tandem. The judges sorted hundreds of souls everyday, but only reserved the special cases for when Hades attended court. I could only marvel at their dedication.

Here in the courtroom, he was a different person altogether - his face was a mask, and not a droplet of feeling, of emotion, slip through its cracks. His eyes were pitch black, betraying no biasness. His posture was stiffer than stone, and I knew in this minute, in this moment - I was not seeing the man I had married, not Hades, a god who took his hound for walks... but Hades, the Lord of the Underworld, the King of the Dead, a master watching his subjects, doling them their portion of justice, and carrying the weight of a million souls on his back.

Hades was a fair master.

He was furious when angered, calm when needed - lending an ear to the voice of his men, ever so often asking for my opinion. The fact that he trusted me enough to hear what I thought was enough to make my heart fill with happiness. He reassured me when I faltered, and encouraged me when I needed a push. Here was a King whose only satisfaction was ensuring all was good and fair in his world. One needed so little to be happy. As the day approached its end, he gave me a reassuring smile - the warmth in it thawing the frosty storm brewing in the grey of his eyes.

I felt light - so much lighter than I had felt in weeks. I felt that I had finally found a place I could belong.

A place I could call home.