How Poseidon became a father

Three Years Old

Hades's POV

Even though Amethyst has a throne in the Olympian Counsel, it still couldn't contain her energy.

Amethyst would crawl out of her throne and disturb the meeting by running around. It'd take roughly two hours to catch her.

Once Amethyst stripped naked when there was an Olympian party going on and ran around laughing. While my brothers tried catching their little, misbehaving daughter, I was . . . recording. I still have it. I'll use it for blackmail.

So now, Amethyst gets to stay with me until the end of the meetings. I don't mind; Makaria loves having Amethyst over.

Having Amethyst over does have its pros and cons.

Amethyst likes to run around the palace laughing like crazy, which startles me at times. Laughter is never heard in my palace, and I was used to that for centuries. When Amethyst has to take a nap, she asks me to tell her stories of the sinners. Like Jack the Ripper, Ivan, Vlad, Nero, and Genghis Khan. I do phrase the stories in a way that wouldn't scare her.

Today was no different.

Poseidon dropped Amethyst off, and she ran up to me.

"Uncle!" She exclaimed, giggling. I picked her up, and Poseidon left.

"How you've been, Amy?" I asked her.

"Good, did you get the magazine?"

"Yes, yes, I did."

I was never going to buy anything from Old Navy; I don't leave the Underworld much, so what's the point.

"I made 3,652 bucks this week!" Amethyst bragged with a confident smile.

"You make money?"

"Yeah, what dummy works for free?"

Her comment made me realize that I have been working my butt off for the past eons to make sure the Underworld was in order and the mortal world wasn't roaming with the undead—for free.

You mortals reading this better thank me for all my hard work, or I'll go on vacation for a year.

I'd like to see how you manage without me.

I heard Amethyst's stomach growl. We went to the kitchen, and I made her something to eat.

I cooked her some Mac and cheese, which she ate happily.

"I'm going to go see mommy," Amethyst told me, getting down from the chair and leaving the room.

"Stay away from—" I called out only to hear.

"Stay away from the pit. I know, uncle!"

I chuckled, placed the plates in the sink, and went to finish my work.

I created punishments for the sinners, signed paperwork, and anything else, involving the dead that'll suck my wealth dry.

A skeleton had warily stepped into my study with another stack of paperwork.

Upon hearing another stack added to the mountains of paper I had to sign, I slowly looked up at the skeleton. You know those faces people make where their face is calm, but you can tell through their eyes they're enraged.

That's my face as I slammed my pen on the desk, stood up, and faced the confederate soldier. My nostrils flared as I raised my hands in an attempt to strangle him when I remembered he was dead. So my hands shook in midair as I imagined myself strangling him to death.

The skeleton ran out of the room to escape my wrath. I growled and went back to my work.

An hour or so later, I get this strange feeling.