V Hera
“Me?” Hera asked, confused. “Cheat on you? But it’s you who will be cheating on me!”
“What makes you think I want an open relationship? Just because I currently have a varied sex life doesn’t mean I’ll want to share my wife!”
“We aren’t talking about me! We’re talking about you and your wanton needs!”
“So according to you, a faithful wife is a wanton need?”
“A faithful wife won’t stop you from seeking satisfaction with other women!”
“And how do you know that? You said you didn’t want me to become a nightmare, and you already treat me like someone who can’t control his desires. If my wife will satisfy my needs, why should I seek contact with other women?”
Hera blinked. A part of her felt ashamed, because she was indeed acting as if Dago was already a nightmare. The second part of her froze at the words “if my wife will satisfy my needs,” not sure what to think about them.
“So,” she started cautiously, “you don’t plan on cheating on your wife as long as she pleases you?”
“Nyx Nemesis, Galenos! I’m not going to cheat on my wife at all!”
“Even if your wife… doesn’t satisfy your needs?”
Hearing this question, Dago calmed down. “So this is what worries you?”
He examined her carefully, running his gaze first over her face and hair, then over her neck and cleavage, her bare shoulders and the outline of her figure, down to her ankles and feet. Hera didn’t react with indignation, only because there was no lecherousness in his behavior—Midais looked at her like a banker examining gold to judge how many carats it had.
“You are feminine enough for me,” he said, though he seemed surprised by this verdict.
Should I be grateful or outraged? Hera wondered.
“And what if you aren’t masculine enough for me?” she asked, deciding ultimately on an unsentimental tone.
Dago’s face took on the expression she must’ve had when she’d thought he nightmared. “Not masculine enough? You had a better view than I, and you still dare to say that I’m not enough ?” Then he looked down and surveyed his harmoniously sculpted body. He frowned as if something had dawned on him. He pinned her with his gaze. “You prefer beefy treeuprooters like Herkules?”
Hera shook her head. She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation. “Midais, are you joking? Why do you assume I want to sleep with you? We don’t even like each other.”
“People don’t have to like each other to have sex. I haven’t liked half the women I’ve slept with, and the sex with most of them has been great.” He must have realized from her expression that the statement didn’t impress her, because he added quickly, “Everything depends on communication.”
Hera crossed her arms. “Interesting words for someone who ignores half the messages directed at him.”
The man clenched and relaxed his jaw. “You will tell me about your needs, and I will try to satisfy them. I will tell you about my needs and you will try to satisfy me. An equal exchange. Reasonable . Why do you resist?”
Hera considered this question.
“I don’t love you,” she said finally.
“Shocking.” His gaze told her that he found her level of nightmarishness suspiciously high. “What does love have to do with sex and marriage?”
She was about to give him a pitying look when she realized that she didn’t know the answer.
“See?” Midais asked, his voice triumphant. “You don’t know either!”
“I know it’s more enjoyable when you like the other person.”
His lips curved into a cheeky smile. “Undress and spread your legs so we can check if it really is as unenjoyable as you fear.”
A hot wave swept through her body. No one had ever spoken to her like this. Oddly enough, instead of annoying her, it made her curious. Could the man really give her pleasure matching his self-confidence?
As Hera stood up, the smile on his face widened. When a moment later her arm transformed into a wing of fire, it vanished.
“If you try to Charm me again, I’ll evaporate all the water in your pool,” she said.
Dago relaxed and his pupils returned to normal. “There’s no need to act like a gorgon, Galenos. I didn’t force you to do anything, did I?”
Hera couldn’t disagree. She’d been paying attention to his words and her own reactions, but she didn’t feel Captivated even once.
When she gave him a sulking look in response, a roguish smile returned to his lips. “My Charm only makes unconscious desires surface. You didn’t feel anything that wasn’t already inside you.” He patted the seat next to him. “Sit and tell me about your worries. I’ll try to remedy them.”
To give herself time to cool down, Hera focused on her flaming wing and unhurriedly transformed it back into a hand. Her realization that the physical attraction she felt wasn’t fueled by magic, but by her own desires, horrified her so much she almost turned into a phoenix and broke through the roof. The only thing that stopped her was that this reaction would have confirmed his suspicions and contributed to the growth of his already enormous ego. Until she admitted it out loud, he could only guess, which gave her more room to maneuver.
When she finally looked at Dago, he was watching her intently.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked.
Feeling that her emotions might spiral out of control, Hera crossed her arms, trying to box them off. “Too late to ask that, don’t you think?”
“I should’ve started with it,” he agreed, ignoring her sarcastic tone. “So do you have a boyfriend or not?”
“No,” she said as calmly as she could, even though inside she was raring to fly.
Dago was silent for a moment, his eyes searching her face. “Are you a virgin?”
“No.”
Her voice trembled almost inaudibly, but Dago, experienced at eliciting information from other people, must have noticed, because his eyes narrowed slightly.
“You don’t like men, or you don’t like sex?”
Hera tightened her grip on her arms. His insight was nightmarish.
“Sex doesn’t bring me pleasure.” Taking advantage of his puzzlement, she added, “That’s why I think your idea is down the tube. We have different needs. We won’t put up with each other for long. Think of something else.”
“How many lovers did you have?” he asked, ignoring the second part of her statement. “One? Two?”
“Why do you need to know?”
“I’m trying to get to know my future wife. Is that wrong?”
“I haven’t agreed to your plan. Why do you assume I’ll marry you?”
“Because you’re still here.”
“So when I leave, you’ll finally start thinking of a new plan?”
Dago threw up his hands. “Galenos, you know how nasty I am, and you can cope with that. It’s almost like destiny. Our marriage has only advantages. I know you can see that. Why do you resist? I thought you liked logical solutions.”
When he stood up, Hera stepped back instinctively, then blushed, embarrassed by her sudden skittishness and bemused by the concentration with which Midais was watching her.
“Let’s do this,” he said lightly, as he was dealing with an untamed dream. “If within a week you don’t come up with a better plan, but still prefer me to be the Archmagus, you will come back here and let me touch you. If you find my touch repulsive, we will part ways. If you decide it’s not unbearable, you will stay, and we will work out the terms of a marriage contract that we will refer to later if we have a dispute. We will start meeting in public places so people won’t be too shocked when we announce our engagement. If you don’t back out by then, we will sign the contract and get married. If after three years you decide you no longer want to be my wife, we will divorce.”
He paused, surveying her face. “Do you agree?”
Because his words made more sense to her than her own feelings, she said, “Yes.”
Then she shifted into a phoenix, not caring that her clothes turned to ash during the transformation. After cutting a hole in the glass roof with scorching heat, she flew away as fast as if she was chased by a nightmare.