When their hearts had grown a little more quiet, Mother Ceres looked anxiously at Proserpina.
Proserpina was the Goddess of Death, and the queen of these lower abodes.
"Yet you chose the role of Proserpina, knowing—" He broke off, a shiver of constraint in his voice.
But Proserpina was so alarmed, that she wished for nothing but to get out of his reach.
His voice was so gruff and deep, and sounded just like the rumbling Proserpina had heard underneath the earth.
"I don't care for golden palaces and thrones," sobbed Proserpina.
And while she was busy in a field she thought she heard Proserpina's voice calling her.
"I will neither drink that nor anything else," said Proserpina.
It was not long before Proserpina saw that she had reached the meadow in which she had gathered flowers.
As long as Proserpina was above ground, there might have been hopes of regaining her.