“Hera.”

Zeus’s voice cut through the ocean breeze, and Demeter fell silent. I stiffened. Finally. “I have no interest in seeing you today,” I said without turning around. “Go.”

“You did it, didn’t you?” He grabbed my shoulder and yanked me around. “You sent that serpent after Leto—”

“I told you I would relieve her of her burden,” I snapped, jerking away from him. Ares began to cry. “It isn’t my fault you interpreted it the way you did. But it is your fault that you ever put her and those children in that situation to begin with. Consider their deaths to be on your hands.”

He set his mouth in a thin line. I expected anger born out of grief and anguish, but I only saw frustration. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said quietly. “They survived. And you will never find Leto again.”

No. Impossible. I stared at him, horrified. Demeter set her hand on my shoulder, but even she couldn’t comfort me now. “And the twins?”

“They have joined me in Olympus,” said Zeus, and he may as well have squeezed my heart until it was nothing. “When they are older, they too will join the council. Effective immediately, Athena will move to Olympus to help me care for them, and she too will join our ranks.”

Athena, Aphrodite, the twins. Four more voices to echo Zeus.

That was it, then, We’d lost. I sank to the ground, rocking Ares as he cried, but my thoughts were anywhere but on that beach. It was only a matter of time before Zeus overthrew my sisters and me entirely.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, the sun shining down on me and the waves crashing to shore only a few feet away. Demeter remained by my side, and eventually Ares calmed, but I couldn’t find the same peace no matter how hard I tried.

“It’s over,” I whispered long after Zeus departed. “The four of them and Poseidon will follow Zeus’s every word.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” murmured Demeter. “Perhaps they will think for themselves. Athena has a good head on her shoulders, and I can’t imagine her being swayed from something she believes in.”

“She hates me for replacing her mother. She’ll never vote with me on anything, especially against her father.”

Demeter hesitated. “Even then, perhaps Aphrodite—”

“She’s his favorite.” The words stuck in my throat, and I had to force them out. “She’ll agree to anything so long as he loves her the most.”

She ran her fingers through my hair. “The end of time hasn’t come yet. There are still plenty of opportunities to have children and even the numbers.”

“He won’t touch me now. He’ll know I’m up to something. Even he isn’t dumb enough to believe I’d forgive him so quickly.”

“Then wait,” she murmured.

“We don’t have time to spare.”

Demeter sighed and kissed my hair. “It will work out. I promise you, everything will be all right.”

I turned away. After all the broken promises I’d endured from those I loved, her words didn’t mean anything to me anymore. “Even if he discards his current mistresses, it’ll only be a matter of time before he takes another.”

“That’s true,” she said slowly as the waves lapped our ankles. The tide would force us to move soon. “People don’t change.”

Or Zeus didn’t, at least. “What then? How many more illegitimate children will he have?”

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “As many as he wants, I suppose.”

“And meanwhile, he’ll leave me with only Ares. I’ll never have daughters, I’ll never have another son. Unless—”

I stopped. Of course. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? It would be almost too easy, using Zeus’s weakness against him, and with patience—

“Unless what?” said Demeter. I didn’t answer. “Hera, unless what?”

At last I faced her again, unable to help my grin. “Unless I trick him. Unless I play him like a fool the same way he’s played me.”

She frowned. “You’re miserable enough as it is. Why put yourself in the line of fire all over again?”

“Because when he takes another mistress—and he will, we both know he will—I’m going to make sure it’s me.”

* * *

I roamed the beaches every night for a season. Demeter watched Ares for me, and though we planned an elaborate story if Zeus ever checked in on me, he never did.

I didn’t expect it to work. I hoped, and I used my abilities as much as I dared to entice him to come to me, but in all my planning, I never truly thought I would win.

But at last, as the full moon shone down on my changed form, I saw him. He stood framed by the trees in the distance, his hair tickling his shoulders in the breeze, and for a moment I nearly forgot why I hated him. Whether he recognized me or not, I couldn’t tell, and I held my breath as he slowly made his way across the sand toward me.

“Hello,” he murmured in a voice he’d never used with me. “What’s your name?”

Relief swept through me, as palpable as the golden ichor in my veins. He didn’t know me. And at last, for the first time in months, I smiled at him.

“Hephaesta,” I murmured. “My name is Hephaesta.”

* * *

Our affair lasted one night, but that was all I needed. I never returned to the beach, and whether or not he came looking for his new mistress, I didn’t know. He never showed any signs of distress in Olympus. Then again, I’d been nothing more than a fling to him, and if he truly fell in love with my disguise, then he was a greater fool than even I’d suspected.