Hades opened the door almost immediately. When the Underworld got as busy as it had been lately, Hades spent most of his time at his desk, surrounded by files, messages, and stacks of detailed reports about problems that had to be dealt with one on one as soon as possible. When he wasn't at his desk, Hades was dealing with those problems. Summertime brought more than usual. Hades had to make up for all the lousy decisions he'd made during the spring.
But mostly, he stayed at his desk. For hours. Until all the ink looked more like child drawn squiggles than words and he couldn't quite tell if he was awake or asleep because he seemed to still be working but couldn't remember why the River Styx was in his bedroom or if his bed had always spoken fluent German.
Right now the ink was still words, but he'd been there long enough that the walls had started creeping closer and every leg on his desk and chair wobbled no matter how many books or insults he used.
Hades welcomed distraction. Distraction in the form of his daughter practically caused him to leap out of his chair. Seeing her made Hades pause. Mak looked troubled, and her voice at the door had been tentative. He gestured for her to come in and sat by her on the edge of his bed.
“What is it, duckling?” he asked softly. Whatever it was, he did not like it. Not one bit.