When the gift had first arrived, Hera had been secretly thrilled. Oh she hadn’t let her true feelings show, that would never do. Strong emotions could be too easily manipulated by those seeking to undermine or overthrow. Hera knew that too well, because she used that tool herself with others, so she would never allow her own feelings to be used in such a way. So she tamped down her honest reaction and allowed others to believe that she was haughty enough to feel the golden throne was her due as queen.

( The truth was far more complicated. )

She was pacing in the bedroom, alone. With each angry step she cursed all the gods on Olympus and a few of the goddesses as well. How dare they just give her away like this. As if she were some trinket that belonged to Zeus. She belonged to no one. Certainly not to that ugly, crippled thing that Hera had born. She had tried to get out of the deal, but Zeus and his Olympian brood could not be convinced. Days like these made her wonder why she had ever backed this lot against the Titans.

( It was her own fault. )