“The—goddess of love,” I said tightly. “Very well. It certainly suits you.”
Aphrodite beamed, and without warning, she threw her little arms around me. “We’ll be great friends,” she murmured in her childish voice. “I can’t wait.”
I could. I could wait forever. But the way Zeus beamed, seeing her hug me—I had little choice but to hug back. If it made him happy, I would do it. He certainly did plenty to return the favor.
But that suspicion remained, a small doubt that refused to go away. Before I accepted this little trickster as my own, I would need to make sure that was all Zeus intended for her. Because although I wanted to trust him, in the face of the unknown, even I had my doubts.
* * *
That evening, after Zeus had slipped out of our chambers to tuck Aphrodite into bed, I followed him. My footsteps were silent, and I moved without detection despite the baby I carried. Her room was only one down from ours, where I’d intended the baby’s nursery to be, but Zeus had assured me we would be more comfortable across the hall from the baby instead. Perhaps he was more concerned about getting his rest, but the thought of being that much farther apart from my son ate at me.
I bent my head toward the curtain that separated Aphrodite’s room from the corridor. If Zeus caught me, I had a dozen explanations on the tip of my tongue, each one a greater lie than the last. But he’d done this to himself, bringing a stranger into our home only weeks before our son would be born.
“I don’t think she likes me.” Aphrodite’s voice, and barely audible at that. I set my hand against my other ear, determined to block out any outside noise.
“Who, Hera?” said Zeus. His voice was like thunder even when he tried to whisper. “She’s just a bit surprised, darling. She didn’t expect you.”
“I want her to love me.” The yearning in Aphrodite’s voice shifted something inside me. “I want a mother.”
“She will be your mother,” murmured Zeus. “And I will be your father. You’ll never be alone again.”
The same promise Hades had made to me. Except this time I knew Zeus wouldn’t break it. Not to me, not to this little girl, not to anyone. “I’d really like that,” she whispered.
“I know you would.” A pause. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow I’ll introduce you to all your aunts and uncles.”
“More family?” I could practically see her eyes widen in amazement.
Zeus chuckled. “More family.”
I stepped away from the curtain and hurried back into the chamber before Zeus could discover me. He wasn’t lying, after all. Once again, he’d proven Hades and Demeter wrong.
When Zeus returned to our chamber and lay down beside me, I curled up against him, resting my head on his chest. “I love you,” I whispered. “Every part of you.”
He kissed my hair. “As I love you. Never forget that.”
In that moment, I was certain I never would.
* * *
The day Ares was born was the happiest of my life.
As I held that squirming pink bundle, I understood why our mother had refused to fight at Cronus’s side against us. No matter how much I loved Zeus, no matter how loyal I was to him, Ares was as much a part of me as my heart. He was mine.
Zeus disappeared hours after Ares was born, presumably to celebrate with Poseidon and Hades. As soon as he’d gone, however, a knock sounded. “Come in,” I called.
Demeter pushed aside the curtains. I lay on the bed, curled up with the baby, who slept soundly against my chest. “Hera,” she murmured, slipping inside. “He’s beautiful. Congratulations.”
Regardless of any lingering animosity between us, I grinned. “Isn’t he? He looks just like me.”
“I’m sure Zeus took that well,” she teased. Sitting down on the bed, she touched Ares’s cheek. “He almost makes me want to have children of my own.”
“Maybe you should,” I said. “It’s about time you found someone.”
She shook her head, and something flickered across her face, something I didn’t quite catch. “I wouldn’t be very good at it. I think I’d rather plant roots first. Find myself.”
“Well, you do have eternity,” I said, and she smiled a bit sadly.
“I do.” She hesitated and pulled her gaze away from Ares. “I need to talk to you about something, and I need you to not panic or get angry. For your son’s sake.”
All of the contentment Ares’s birth had brought me drained away, leaving me with the same wariness that had plagued me before. “If you’re going to tell me you don’t think Zeus will be a good father—”
“He already is a good father,” said Demeter. “With Ares, with Aphrodite and with Athena.”
I made a face. Athena, his child with Metis during the war, before he’d married me. Thankfully, she rarely came around. The thought of being a stepmother didn’t hold much appeal to me, and dealing with Aphrodite was difficult enough. “I don’t see what she has to do with anything.”
“She doesn’t,” said Demeter. Another moment passed between us in silence. “Zeus has a mistress.”
My grip on my son tightened, and burning anger flared up inside me. “How dare you accuse him when you have no proof—”
“Oh, I have proof.” Demeter’s expression hardened, and she stood. “I’ve been following him, for your sake. Making sure he remained faithful.”
“You had no right—”
“I had every right to protect my sister. Whether you choose to believe me or not, all I’ve ever wanted was for you and Hestia to be happy. You’re different from us, Hera—you want things we don’t, and sometimes it’s hard to see the world the way you do. But that doesn’t make me love you any less. And I would never sabotage your happiness for sport.”
I swallowed hard. No matter how often we argued, she was telling the truth—she would never hurt me on purpose. And that left me with two options: denial and playing the fool, or acceptance and putting a stop to it.
I’d never been very good at being foolish.
“Why tell me now?” My lower lip trembled, and I clutched Ares. “Why ruin today for me?”
Demeter sank down beside me again, cupping my cheek. “No one can ruin today for you,” she murmured. “Your son is healthy and happy, and he already loves you so much.”
“So why not wait until after I’ve had a little time to be happy with him? Why did you have to rob me of that?” I blinked rapidly, struggling to keep myself from crying. I wouldn’t give Demeter the satisfaction of seeing me come undone.
“Because,” she said, averting her eyes, “his mistress is about to give birth, as well.”
All at once, the world gave out from under me, and it was all I could do to remain upright. “He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, and bitterness and fury unlike anything I’d ever experienced before ate away at me like acid, consuming every good thing left. In my arms, Ares started to cry, but even his fear wasn’t enough to make me curb my wrath.
“Who?” I demanded, and Demeter flinched.
“Leto. She’s pregnant with twins.”
Twins. My eyes flickered shut, and I took several deep breaths, forcing myself to calm down. “That’s his plan.”
“What’s his plan?”
“To take over the council. To override all of us.” I opened my eyes again, the fire inside me compressed into a single burning need. “First Aphrodite joins the council. Then Ares. It’s only a matter of
time before he asks for Athena to join, as well. And after that, these bastard children of his—”
Demeter shook her head. “We’d never allow it. You know we wouldn’t.”
“He has Poseidon’s vote, and Aphrodite’s, and if it comes to it, Hades’s, as well. He would never dare upset the balance. Even if the three of us voted against it, we would still be outnumbered. Even if he doesn’t manage to do so now, eventually he’ll find a way.”
Demeter was quiet for a long moment. “Do you really think he would do that?”
“Yes,” I said flatly. “He’s exactly like our father—greedy, hungry for power, convinced he alone knows what is best. Concerned only with his own wants and desires without any regard for those he claims to love—”
“Hera.”
“—and if he thinks I’m going to let him get away with treating me with such little respect, I’ll—”
“Hera.”
Demeter reached for Ares, and I stopped. He was wailing now, his cries loud enough to wake all of Olympus. Numb, I allowed her to take him. “I need to find her,” I said, my arms cold without the weight of my son. “She can’t give birth. She can’t destroy the council like that.”
“It isn’t her fault,” said Demeter. “I’m certain Zeus lied to her. Even if he didn’t, this is a choice he made. She didn’t seduce him.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” I stood on shaky legs. “I must go. Watch after him while I’m away.”
She opened her mouth, but before she could say a word, she seemed to think better of it. At last she nodded. “Do what you must. I love you.”
“I love you, too, sister. Thank you for telling me.”
And with that, I exited the room, determined to do whatever I had to in order to stop this atrocity.
* * *
Several nights later, Zeus stormed into our chambers. “What did you do?”
The joy he’d emanated since Ares’s birth was gone now, replaced by waves of anger that would have frightened any reasonable person. He was, after all, King. But I was Queen, and this war was between equals.
“What do you mean?” I said with mocking innocence. If he was going to dare grow angry with me for protecting the council’s interests, for protecting the fairness and equality upon which we’d all agreed, then he was going to have to confess to breaking the most important promise he’d made me. To breaking his vows.
His face went from pink to red to a shade of purple that couldn’t possibly be natural, and lightning encompassed his clenched fists. “You know what,” he finally said in his thunderous voice. “Leto’s been in labor for days.”
“And she’ll remain in labor for a very long time,” I said, cradling Ares as he slept. Odd how my anger affected him, yet he barely batted an eye at his father’s fury. “I hardly see why it matters to you. Your son is right here.”
“Do not play these games with me,” he snarled. “You will undo whatever it is you did immediately.”
“What could I have possibly done, and why would I have done it?” I brushed a lock of Ares’s hair from his eyes. Such a beautiful baby. He deserved so much more than the father he had.
Lightning cracked outside the balcony, mere feet away from where we lay. If Zeus thought his threats would frighten me into complacency, he was sorely mistaken. At last, however, his shoulders sank, and he reached out for me. “Hera, my love, I’m so sorry. I made a grave mistake—”
I slapped his hand away. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve made several mistakes. How many mistresses have you had since we married?”
His brow furrowed. “Just one. Just Leto—”
“Liar.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, as if he were in pain. “Hera, please—”
“I will not sit here and listen to your lies.” I stood, and in my arms, Ares made a small sound. “You may either lie and go or stay and tell the truth. If you want any chance of me helping your precious Leto, I’d suggest the latter.”
“I’m loyal to you,” he said, his voice breaking. “To you and only you. The others, they’re nothing—”
“If they are nothing, then why did you bother with them in the first place?”
“Weakness. Opportunity. I wasn’t thinking—”
“That much is obvious.”
“Hera, please.” Zeus stood and moved toward me, but I backed away. “They’re innocent children.”
“So is Ares, yet before a week’s passed, you’ve forced him to face his father’s infidelities and lies.” I walked to the curtain that separated our chambers from the hallway. “I won’t help you or Leto. As far as I’m concerned, our marriage is over.”
“Then so is your role as my queen.”
I stopped, and the darkness spun around me. I clutched Ares to my chest. “My title has nothing to do with our marriage.”
“It has everything to do with our marriage, and you know it.”
“You can’t strip me of our partnership—”
“If you dissolve our marriage, I can and I will,” he said in a dangerously soft voice. “I’ve made mistakes. I won’t make them again. All I ask for now is your forgiveness, and that you not take your anger out on the innocent.”
“Because of you, none of us are innocent.” My eyes watered, and I gazed down at my son. My title or my pride. That was the choice he was forcing upon me. All I’d worked for, all I’d done for the council—or having to stand beside a god who had lied to me about everything.
Our whole family must have known. Certainly Poseidon and Demeter, and Demeter wouldn’t keep something like this from Hestia. Though not Hades. Hades would have told me—
I’d chosen wrong. I should’ve waited. Hades would’ve never done this to me. I should’ve listened to him, to my sister, to my conscience—but I’d been blinded by Zeus’s promises and my pride. I’d thought I could change him. Clearly I’d been wrong. And now the whole council would suffer for me.
No. I wouldn’t allow everything we’d worked for to fall. No matter what Zeus seemed to think, we all had equal say on the council. And as long as those twins never arrived, as long as he never had the chance to place them among us, then he was still only one voice.
“I will remain with you,” I said thickly, staring at our son. My son. “I will not forgive you, but I will stay. And in return, you will never see those children or that woman again.”
Silence, followed by soft footsteps as he moved toward me. “And you will allow her to give birth?”
“I will relieve her of her burden.”
He set his hand on my back, the heat between us hotter than the hottest forge. “Very well. I am and have always been yours.”
I turned away from him and stepped into the corridor. “No, you haven’t,” I whispered, and before he could tell me any other lies, I hurried away, heading for my sister.
* * *
For the next three days, I waited for news. I avoided my duties both to the realm and to Zeus, wanting to give him a taste of what it would be like to rule without me. Perhaps in the early days he could’ve handled it on his own, but now the realm was far too big for any one person to rule without things slipping through the cracks. Eventually he would discover just how much he needed me.
I remained with Demeter, sleeping in her chambers and wandering the earth beside her, showing Ares the beauty of the world. He seemed to enjoy it, gurgling and turning his face toward the sun. I avoided the lake where I’d helped the injured bird, knowing that if Z
eus wanted to find me, that was the first place he would look. And I would not be fooled by him again.
“It’ll get easier, you know,” said Demeter as we wandered across a white sand beach, searching for shells for Ares. “Eventually the hurt and anger will fade.”
“But things will never be the same again,” I said bitterly. “I will never be as happy as I was, believing his promises.”
“Happiness is a choice, sister,” she said, plucking a piece of coral from the sand. “You have a beautiful baby who loves you nearly as much as you love him. Isn’t that enough reason to find joy in the world?”
“Sometimes. Most of the time. But there’s a piece of me that will always remain shriveled because of what his father did.”
“Then hide it away and never let it be seen, not even by yourself. Focus on the good, and eventually happiness will come as easily as—”
“Hera.”
Zeus’s voice cut through the ocean breeze, and Demeter fell silent. I stiffened. Finally. “I have no interest in seeing you today,” I said without turning around. “Go.”
“You did it, didn’t you?” He grabbed my shoulder and yanked me around. “You sent that serpent after Leto—”
“I told you I would relieve her of her burden,” I snapped, jerking away from him. Ares began to cry. “It isn’t my fault you interpreted it the way you did. But it is your fault that you ever put her and those children in that situation to begin with. Consider their deaths to be on your hands.”
He set his mouth in a thin line. I expected anger born out of grief and anguish, but I only saw frustration. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said quietly. “They survived. And you will never find Leto again.”
No. Impossible. I stared at him, horrified. Demeter set her hand on my shoulder, but even she couldn’t comfort me now. “And the twins?”
“They have joined me in Olympus,” said Zeus, and he may as well have squeezed my heart until it was nothing. “When they are older, they too will join the council. Effective immediately, Athena will move to Olympus to help me care for them, and she too will join our ranks.”