Erato's sweet smile was long gone. She drained her glass and stood up, and wordlessly walked away to the bathroom.
She knew they'd be gone when she came out. Melpomene had played her, and it was her own fault for inviting it. As she washed her hands and looked at herself in the mirror above the sink, a single furious, hurt tear escaped her, and she brushed it crossly away. Melpomene was a horrible sister, and Apollo was a horrible person, and she hated that she still loved them both anyway.
She straightened herself up and brushed back her hair, lifting her chin defiantly. "You're still the most lovely muse," she told herself, and walked back out.