There was nothing else to the room other than a privacy screen, and Hades turned to look at Hermes. “Well?” he asked. “What now?” “You must bathe,” he said. “Why?” Hades asked tightly. “Because…the gold won’t stick.” “The gold?” Hades repeated. Hermes sighed. “Look, this isn’t ideal, but have I ever led you astray?” “Yes, Hermes, you have, in fact, led me astray. This is a prime example,” Hades said, gesturing to the room. “With fashion,” Hermes countered. Hades glared. He did not want to do this. Hermes crossed the room to a stack of folded towels and threw one at him. “Get wet, Daddy Death,”
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