But the hope splashed across Diana’s face gave him pause, and at last he exhaled, his shoulders sagging. He would give his sister this, and if they did break their pact, then he would do as he’d promised and step away regardless. This was his choice, and he would not allow them to take it from him.

“Very well,” he said. “One hundred years. That is all the time I will allow. At the end of that hundred years, if we do not agree upon a suitable queen to rule at my side—” he could not bring himself to say wife or companion or lover “—then I will step down from my role as King of the Underworld, and I will fade.”

“So be it,” said Walter. “Sister, I entrust in you the task of finding our brother a suitable wife. Ava will help you.”

Diana nodded, more radiant than Henry had seen her in an eon. “I will find someone,” she murmured, once again for his ears only. She brushed her lips to his cheek, and he ducked his head, focusing on the sunset floor. “I’ve made many mistakes in my existence, but this will not be one of them, I promise you that. I will find you someone. Not just someone—but the person you have deserved all this time.”

He managed the faintest of smiles. It was no secret she blamed herself for what had happened with Persephone, and if it allowed her to cast aside her own guilt, then Henry could not deny her the chance to do this. But the ache inside him, an eternal fire that turned every last piece of his happiness to ash, would not be extinguished by a stranger. Even if Diana was right, even if there was someone out there who was his match in every way, who was somehow more a soul mate to him than Persephone, she would not be able to heal him. No one could.

He would give Diana this chance though, because he loved her, and because she had been through enough already. She deserved this as much as he deserved his own choice, and it was the least he could offer her before he succumbed to oblivion.

Ingrid

For three years, Henry waited.

He knew a girl was coming; Diana was relentless in scouring the world, and it would only be a matter of time before she found someone for him. And while he waited, he dreamed of who she might be. Young, old, funny, stoic, happy or as miserable as he was—anything was a possibility, but whenever he tried to picture her face, he only saw Persephone’s.

Was it even ethical to ask a mortal to be his queen? To put her through the test and demand she give up half of eternity if she passed? And what would happen if she failed? Diana had sworn he didn’t need to worry about any of it, but of course he did. If he was going to be the reason this girl, this woman, left everything she knew behind, then he had no choice but to give her a happy ending one way or the other.

At last Diana came to him early one evening, while a few souls still lingered from the latest batch James had led in. It’d taken him three days to get through them—two days longer than it had only a millennium ago, and he couldn’t bear to think of how many souls were out there waiting for him to get to them. There was no hurry, of course, but he was miserably behind. And they deserved their eternities.

“Brother,” she murmured, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You look well.”

That was a lie and they both knew it, but he allowed her that much as he kissed her in return. “As do you. I assume you bring news?”

“I do.” She stepped back enough to look him straight in the eye, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. “I found her.”

For a long moment, Henry was quiet. He’d known this was coming, of course, but to hear her say it—to acknowledge the fact that there was a girl out there who Diana thought would be a match for him…

“Who is she?” said Henry at last, and Diana squeezed his hand.

“Her name is Ingrid, and she’s beautiful. She has an easygoing temperament, she’s loving, cheerful, and Theo is certain she’s the one.”

Theo, Apollo, who had access to the oracles of the world. If Theo thought she was the one, then not even the Fates could argue. “Very well,” said Henry. “Will you be bringing her down here?”

“You will be meeting her up on the surface,” said Diana. “At an orphanage in New York City.”

His eyebrows shot up. “An orphanage? Is she a patron?”

“No, she’s a resident,” said Diana with the patience of a mother explaining something quite simple to her son. “And she has no idea you’re coming.”

A resident, which meant she was an orphan—a child. His sister was setting him up with a child. “How old is she, exactly?”

“She turned seven last week.”

“Seven?”

“Naturally I am not suggesting you begin courtship immediately,” she said. “Until she’s of age, at the very least. But I thought perhaps if she grew up knowing you, if somehow you were able to work your way into her life—”

“As what, an uncle? A father figure? Perhaps that sort of relationship is acceptable within our family, but for a mortal child—”

“Would you allow me to finish before you interrupt?” said Diana with a huff, and Henry scowled, falling silent. “Thank you. Now, James will cover you down here. And don’t give me that look—he’s the only one who knows the Underworld well enough to do so. Besides, he needs the practice, in case we fail.” But from her tone, it was obvious she didn’t think they would. “In the meantime, I thought perhaps it would benefit you best to integrate yourself into the orphanage, as well. As a child.”