If this were winter Persephone would have told him, with complete practicality, that he was being foolish and that he would live without her as he had always done before. But the sun was high and the flowers were in bloom and so instead Persephone stood up and took the cup from his hand so that she could sit on his lap.
"Nekrodegmôn, my gentle king." She ran her hand through his hair. "I'm right here with you. Don't think so hard on what the future may bring."