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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.”