Persephone sometimes wondered how far that 'anything' would truly go, but for now there had never been a need to find out. Besides, Persephone was full of warmth and hope at this time of year, and such bleak thoughts always flittered away easily.
At the table, Persephone wiped her hands on the rag she'd abandoned there and sat down, watching her husband try to find the most optimal shady spot. Persephone herself had opted for the seat in the full sun. "How has your morning been? Buried in a new book?"
She reached across to pour them both a glass of tea.