Aphrodite's voice carried through the obsidian halls of the Underworld like a soft melody, her footsteps light and rhythmic, almost a dance in themselves.
She hummed happily, her aura radiating warmth and beauty that clashed with the cold stone walls.
Ever since Orpheus's harrowing quest had ended, her mood had been brighter than anyone could remember—so bright, in fact, that even the shades of the dead whispered about it.
And her daily visits to Hades' office shoes that.
Just like right now.
The great doors of Hades's office creaked open, and Aphrodite swept inside, golden hair shimmering like firelight against the gloom.
Behind his vast obsidian desk, Hades was just setting down his pen, the latest stack of parchment signed and sealed.
"Lord Hades!" she sang, her voice sweet with cheer.
Hades glanced up, his expression neutral, but his dark eyes softened almost imperceptibly.
He gave her a small nod. "Mn."
