10. Where The Third Bullet Point Of The Plan Is Accomplished （And The Empress Finds It Decidedly Unsatisfactory…） #2
There was rustling behind her, another heavy bag was lifted, and then a couple of deep breaths, as if Nemesis was trying to say something, but Hera did not turn around. After a few more moments of silence, she heard the sounds of footsteps, and then the door closed quietly.
The club was busy. It should’ve pleased her. Instead, all the people just took up the space that she wanted empty. Was being left alone to wait in peace so much to ask?
“What time is it?”
The smallest bear poured her a finger of whiskey and made a big production of rolling up his sleeve to look at his watch.
As if she hadn’t asked him the same question just ten minutes ago.
She waved him away, but not before he managed to slide a small bowl of pretzels her way.
Had she eaten today? She lifted her eyes to him, and two more bears behind him shook their heads.
“They do take very good care of you, Your Majesty.”
Aphrodite sidled up to her, one hand firmly on her abdomen, slightly bigger than the last time they’d seen each other.
“Should you not be in Paris? Or in that godforsaken Vermont? Too much flannel even for you? Though I guess with that wife of yours, flannel is something you will just have to learn to live with.”
Aphrodite laughed good-naturedly and nodded to the bear who served her what looked suspiciously like a mojito.
“It’s virgin. And it soothes my stomach.
Also, not Vermont.” The Goddess of Love explained and took a long sip.
“Now that that’s settled, why would I not be here?
I’m usually where the action is. I have now watched The First Wives Club twice.
Once with Erato—you need to hear her commentary.
Entertaining. Also, Maggie Smith steals every scene in that movie. ”
“There’s no action here.” Hera knew she’d replied too fast, too soon. Aphrodite’s face bloomed into a wide smile. Hera felt the need to latch onto something, anything, to not be talking about any of this. “Maggie Smith steals every scene in every movie.”
Aphrodite’s eyes lit up. “Doesn’t she just?” Then she patted her stomach again. “As for action, even if there wasn’t any, surely you’d not want to spare me your company?”
“This is laying it on too thick even for you, Dite.”
Aphrodite took another long sip. The bear was already making another glass of crushed ice and mint.
“Others may not sense it, but you are up to something. Sabine telling me about you watching that movie is probably as good a clue as any. And I’d like to keep you company while whatever plan you’ve put into motion unfolds.
” Hera felt her jaw slacken, but before she could answer, Aphrodite laid a hand on hers. “Call it a thank you. For the child.”
Hera shook her head. But before she could say anything, the Goddess of Love interrupted again.
“I know you schemed with Ares. That entire thing about getting me married off to your son, getting Zeus involved. Though I have to say, and obviously I don’t have that much to go on, but something tells me it was the other way around.
Zeus got you in the middle, as always.” Aphrodite looked at her, and Hera swirled her drink, carefully avoiding her eyes.
Without an answer, the Goddess of Love went on.
“And on top of it all, you’ve been different lately, and in the spirit of… Oh, Hades, I have no idea in the spirit of what, I just don’t want you to go through whatever the hell you are doing alone. How about that?”
“Touching. But unnecessary. I’ve gone millennia alone. I’m used to it.” Hera stood, abandoning her bowl and her drink and exited the bar, leaving Aphrodite and the dejected bears to exchange concerned glances. Glances she pretended not to notice.
Still, as the evening wore on and the night turned cold, the club busier than ever, Hera found herself looking at the door more and more.
Gods came and went, celebrities mingled, Aphrodite sang karaoke with the bear chorus, police had to be called to drag a very inebriated Poseidon out as he was being a nuisance to the Muses, and yet the one person Hera wanted to cross the threshold was nowhere to be seen.
“Clio said it could take longer if they encountered trouble.” Erato slid closer to her and winked at the bartender, who all but swooned.
“Do not seduce my employees at their place of business.”
“Aww, he knows I’m harmless.”
The bartender reached for a cold glass of water, downing it in one gulp.
“Did you want something?” Hera gave the muse a sideways glance.
“Yes, I wanted to tell you not to get your breeches in a twist because Clio said it could take longer, so they’re fine and you don’t have to worry.”
“It’s knickers. I’m not wearing breeches.”
“So you admit to wearing knickers.” Erato wiggled her brows.
“Don’t you have a soon-to-be-wife’s underwear to concern yourself with?”
“She’s busy with the Food Program. The latest droughts are cutting into the wheat quotas, and the prices will be through the roof.”
Hera shook her head.
“Look at you, Muse of Smut. All harvest interested. Did you even know a year ago what wheat quotas were?”
“We learn, we grow. We evolve. Kinda like you, Your Majesty. All this benevolence going around these days, all this blessing this, endowing that. Heard you paid off education debt for nearly half of this city. What gives? Did the Fates get to you or something?”
Hera stilled the hand that was lifting the glass to her mouth.
“Nothing gives, Muse.”
Erato narrowed her eyes.
“Did I hit a sore spot?”
Hera looked around for a distraction and encountered none.
“Why on Earth are you involved in any of Clio’s business? And why can’t Clio keep her mouth shut?”
Erato shrugged.
“We talk. She’s lonely.”
“So the Muse of History is lonely, and instead of talking about the reasons for her loneliness, she blabs about a secret mission she has been sent on?”
Hera lifted an eyebrow. Erato visibly cringed.
“I was trying to be supportive. Dite and I are brainstorming ideas for her potential romantic partner.”
Hera shook her head.
Why was everyone suddenly in everyone’s business? Did nobody have any of their own?
“Did anyone tell you that meddling is unwelcome?” Hera said.
Erato’s jaw dropped.
“Now I know you are unwell. Meddling is unwelcome? Coming from you? The literal Empress of Meddling?”
She reached out and touched Hera’s forehead.
“Are you okay? Do you have a fever?”
Hera smacked the hand away, Erato yelped.
“How much do I have to pay you to leave me alone?”
“See? Now you just got me all worried even more.” Erato touched her, fingers warm, comforting. Hera hated every single second of it. She considered smacking the offending appendage again. Instead, she yanked her hand and glared at Erato.
“Would you—”
The doors of Olympus banged open, and Nemesis all but fell in, covered in blood, her arm hanging limply at her side, Clio trying and failing to keep her upright.
Hera was on her feet before the redhead hit the floor. She was too busy to see the bloodied Queen of Diamonds clutched in Nemesis’s broken fingers.