4. Where The First Bullet Point Of The Plan Is Accomplished （And The Empress Finds it Satisfactory… And Hot…）
WHERE THE FIRST BULLET POINT OF THE PLAN IS ACCOMPLISHED (AND THE EMPRESS FINDS IT SATISFACTORY… AND HOT…)
Hera watched the bear chorus open the doors of Olympus to the braying crowds and forced her jaw to unclench.
It had been a week. Only a week. She really should not be this wound up at the lack of news. Plans need time to come together. She knew that.
To her left, one of the bears dropped a pitcher of sangria all over himself, trying to serve a particularly riotous table. She rolled her eyes. A subtle wave of her fingers cleaned the mess. The crowd erupted in applause.
Well, that was what they were here for, weren’t they? Miracles performed on the daily.
Miracles, distractions, entertainment. Olympus had been the most prestigious and exclusive club in Manhattan for decades.
She did not care that some of her older patrons had noticed she didn’t change throughout that time.
They accepted her eternal youth. Her magic.
Her benevolence. And she? She did not care about much. Not lately.
However, her club was the one thing that still held her interest.
Zeus had divorced her long ago. He had blamed her for it. Called her frigid, vengeful, and evil. Hera had taken the name-calling silently.
What good would it have done for her to explain herself? Thousands of Greek mythologists painted a picture of her that she’d never be able to correct, even if the whole truth were revealed.
She had played her role to perfection back in the good old Ancient Greece days, and once you excelled at something, people took it at face value.
Nobody questioned her villainy. Her vengefulness. Her jealousy of her notoriously unfaithful husband.
Why nobody blamed said unfaithful husband for anything and instead chose to make a villain of her, Hera decided to disregard at the moment.
She had simply accepted her life.
And as time went on, her children grew up lazy and entitled. She was done meddling where their lives were concerned. The past few years had delivered blow after blow in that particular department.
And so the one thing left to her was her club. Its success was a point of pride. Even when everything else in her life failed and fell apart, she prospered here. She kept coming up with more decadent ways to entertain her public.
Tonight would be a night of poker for extremely high stakes. Her bears had set up an entire room for the high rollers. The club would bounce and dance and drink, and people and gods alike would lose livelihoods and fortunes.
It should have given her a little frisson of excitement. Instead, she faced it with a heart full of nothingness. The thought was extinguished as quickly as it arrived, but she knew it would be, so she let go of her own apathy.
Just breathe. Just get on with your life. The plan is soon to be fulfilled. You will smile again. No matter how briefly.
And she would. Just not right now. Right now, she knew she was wallowing ever so slightly in her own misery.
She had reasons. If being the poster child for the cheated on, abandoned, and ridiculed ex-wife was a daily job, she’d be at the top of that career ladder.
And so there they all were. Hera watched Aphrodite, aglow and radiant the way only a Goddess of Love could be while carrying a child, slowly move toward her, and thought that perhaps she might take an evening off.
Aphrodite was remarkably sensible, in comparison to the rest of the gods, but the joy written all over her beautiful face was a bit much for Hera tonight.
She turned, almost subtly looking for an exit and ran headlong into the even more saccharine smile of a Muse.
“Dammit.”
Erato grinned and kissed her cheek irreverently.
“People will think you’re not happy to see me, future sister-in-law.”
Hera rolled her eyes.
“I miss the days you were afraid of me, Muse.”
Erato laughed.
“I miss the days you smiled, sister.”
Demeter’s voice hit her square in the chest even as she leaned in for a customary hug between them. Hera tried to pull away quickly, still shocked by the words, but Demeter held her tight.
“Your ex-husband just walked in with his side piece, and I need you to not react.”
Aphrodite of all people appeared right in front of her, effectively obscuring the view and her from the rest of the club.
“Oh, Zeus can go hang. Look at you, Your Majesty! How have you been? You look amazing. Whatever you’ve been doing lately, whatever you’ve been plotting looks good on you. Do not turn your head, you don’t need to see that.”
Aphrodite laid a gentle hand on her forearm, and Hera felt the backs of her eyes prick.
She hated everything about this. The pity. The compassion. The attention. She knew that half the club was watching her. The other half had not yet cottoned on to what was happening.
She couldn’t stand that Zeus thought she was absolutely nothing and of no importance whatsoever to simply swan into her place of business and flaunt his latest paramour.
Who was young. And beautiful.
Hera shook Aphrodite’s hand off herself.
“Bathing in the blood of virgins has that effect on my complexion, Dite. You are well.”
The Goddess of Love’s smile was so radiant, Hera thought she’d need sunglasses.
“Thanks to you, I take it. I am still in disbelief that you made this happen for Athena and I.” She patted her growing abdomen.
“I won’t ask how, two women without a turkey baster…
So I won’t ask because that’s something only you could have accomplished, and it’s a miracle. But I wanted to thank you.”
Aphrodite’s voice went down to a register that signaled tears would appear any second now, and Hera desperately sought an escape.
She didn’t want to confess that she’d made the pregnancy happen.
That she had done it to atone in some small part for putting Dite through hell—ignore her, Hades—with her recent machinations.
As apologies went, surely a magical child was appropriate?
Still, all the glow and joy and tears were going to make her puke, so she turned only to come face to face with the one person she really didn’t want to see at all.
“My aging ex-wife! I see you’ve redone the ceiling in this old place! I thought to grace you with my presence. For the publicity, you know… All those paparazzi in front got my best side. Should get you more advertisements than you can handle for the next few months.”
Zeus preened. Hera closed her eyes. What had she been thinking? What in the heavens and on Earth had she been thinking for millennia? This man was—
“An imposition. Allow me.”
An ice-cold hand got a hold of hers, and she was unceremoniously pulled to the dance floor where the beat suddenly changed to some sultry piece.
One she knew was not on the song list for tonight.
One that required a partner. One Hera all but forgot how to dance to.
A slow, seductive movement of two bodies in perfect sync at the center of attention.
“Revenge.”
“Your Majesty. I could give you the full title but, it’s a mouthful. Consider the ‘Imperial’ part implied, Empress.”
Pale blue looked into her very soul, and Hera for once did not even think about the title nonsense as her breath caught in her chest.
“I’d say thank you for the assistance…”
“But you’d be lying because you didn’t need any. You were about to smite the old fool.”
“Precisely.” The lie slid off her tongue too smoothly.
She wasn’t certain she had been about to smite anyone.
She was no match in sheer power to Zeus.
Nobody was. So she’d just have to make a spectacle of herself.
She knew it. Nemesis knew it. Everyone looking on knew it.
Even the twenty-something-year-old whom Zeus chose to throw in her face yet again knew it.
“She is of no consequence, Your Majesty.”
Nemesis’s fingers tightened around Hera’s. Something inside her trembled at the care of the gesture. So naturally she couldn’t have it.
“Why are you here, Revenge?”
Nemesis smirked as if she had known exactly the words that would leave Hera’s mouth. Hera bristled.
“Do not tell me I’m predictable. I’m…”
“Stressed and insulted. A little hurt, maybe. More than you should be, but still. Nobody can really account for that.”
Hera sputtered.
“I am not hurt. Why ever would I be hurt?” She almost pushed Nemesis away, but at the last second remembered that all eyes within the establishment were on them. Instead, she moved closer, lifting her hands into the gloriously flowing mahogany tresses.
“How about we forgo psychoanalysis and you tell me why I have not heard about Zeus’s yacht meeting some kind of terrible fate.”
Nemesis did not reply immediately, but turned Hera in a smooth as silk maneuver so she could see the gaggle of gods and goddesses watching them. She was surprised to spot Sabine Goddard there as well. She was eyeing Zeus suspiciously. His face upon seeing her sizing him up was almost comical.
Well, she did “request” that the Cupid do her bidding.
Next to Goddard was a whole gaggle of deities and muses, hiding their faces and mouths behind their drinks.
“They are talking about you. About us, Hera.”
Hera traced Nemesis’s sharp jaw with a fingertip. Since they were putting on a show, they might as well make it a good one.
“Be that as it may. The yacht? Did it burn? Were the flames tall and splendid?”
“Did I promise to burn the yacht?”
Hera felt her color rise, angry heat tinging her cheeks.
“I thought—”
“I know what you thought.” Nemesis pulled her closer still, lifting her thigh around her hip. The bears cooed collectively. Aphrodite clapped.
Zeus choked on his drink, coughed then yelled, “Revenge, what do you think you’re doing?”
Nemesis ignored him and dipped Hera low, almost impossibly low. Hera felt her hair touch the smooth floor, her heart hammering in her chest.
“I say, you will drop her, Revenge!” Zeus almost jumped on the dance floor.