I patted her hair. It was easy—too easy, and part of me knew I was taking advantage of her ignorance. But I had nothing to feel guilty for. This was the way it was supposed to be. And this was the only way we would restore balance. Zeus couldn’t be allowed a monopoly over the council any longer, and whether Aphrodite fully understood the implications or not, it didn’t matter. I was doing the right thing.

“I missed you, too,” I murmured. And to my surprise, I realized it was the truth.

* * *

Everything fell into place. Seven votes, that was all I needed, and now I had them.

Hades. Hestia. Demeter. Ares. Hephaestus. Myself. And now Aphrodite.

I arrived in the throne room long before the council meeting began. I’d missed the feeling of my throne, the power it emanated and the way it seemed to welcome me into its embrace. And as I waited, I stroked my peacock, listening to its soft coos. Everything would be all right. It already was.

I’d won.

The council began to gather shortly after. My sisters first, and then Poseidon and the children. Hades arrived on time, and finally Zeus strode into the room, his golden hair gleaming in the sunlight. There was a new boy now as well, one too young to have a throne, but he sat at Zeus’s feet. Another one of his bastards, then. How cute.

“I call this meeting to order,” said Zeus, although I was the one who had summoned everyone. He stood, radiating power as he always did, but instead it seemed to form a shield between us. As if he could sense the tension and knew I was his enemy now. “To begin—”

“Pardon me,” I murmured with faux politeness, and I too stood. Two could play at this game. “But I believe this is my meeting to direct.”

“On the contrary, I am the one who leads them regardless of who called it,” said Zeus.

I narrowed my eyes. “And how can you lead us when you do not know what is on the agenda?”

“I think you will find my leadership to be anything but lacking today,” he said, and he gestured. “Please, sit.”

Every single member of the council stared at me. I caught Hades’s eye, and he nodded briefly. It would do me no good to stir up trouble in the minutes before I asked the council to trust me, and though it killed my pride to do so, I sat down.

“Thank you.” Zeus stood to his full height. “We are all here today to discuss a dire matter, one that threatens the very foundation of our existence. Treason.”

I froze. What was he talking about?

Zeus turned to face me, a golden aura glowing around him. “Hera, have you or have you not spent the day convincing six of our rank to vote to have my children stripped of their thrones and me removed as King?”

It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to keep my composure. Who had told him? I glanced at Demeter, but she frowned, as confused as I was. Who, then?

Aphrodite. As my gaze landed on her, she looked down at her hands, and her cheeks turned pink. Traitor.

I had no choice now but to go through with it. Zeus could posture all he wanted—if he didn’t have the votes, he didn’t have the votes. I stood. “I did not realize that discussing a return to the natural order of things was considered treason.”

“And what, pray tell, is your definition of the natural order of things?” said Zeus.

I drew my shoulders back, every inch a queen. “I wish to introduce a motion to return the council to its rightful state, where only the original six of us shall be allowed to cast a vote. Everyone else may remain on as advisors, but it is only fair and right that we be the ones to make the final decisions. I do not think it is any great assumption to say that lately there has been no variation in the decisions this council has made. The same people—” I focused on Zeus, and then on the cluster of his illegitimate children “—have made each decision, ignoring the voices of others. That is not a council. That is a dictatorship, and I refuse to stand for it.”

“It is treason,” said Zeus, and thunder filled the throne room. “Wishing to replace your king—”

“You are not my king, nor will you ever be. You are a liar, a thief, and you have no right to rule over us all. You are no better than me, no more powerful than any of us, and you have proven time and time again that you cannot uphold the morals this council demands of its members.”

“And you can?” said Zeus.

“Yes,” I said with a sniff. “I can.”

“As I recall, pride is still considered to be a deadly mark against any candidate,” he said. “As is envy.”

“As is lust,” I snapped. “A crime you have committed more often than I have ever succumbed to pride or envy.”

“Then by your own admission, neither of us is fit to rule,” he said. “Yet here we are. I will not force my children to give up their rightful places on the council, places they have earned by passing the very test you created, when you yourself could not pass it.”

“And I will not back down until equality and fairness are restored.”

“Then we find ourselves at a standstill.” He folded his hands. “As I am still King, I will allow you a choice. If we take this vote and you win, we will do as you ask. But if I win, then you will be stripped of your title. You will remain in Olympus, where I can keep an eye on you, and you will grant me a divorce.”

I gaped at him. “That is completely unfair.”

“Is it? Perhaps you ought to consider yourself lucky you are not being tried for treason right now instead.” He nodded toward the council. “Tell me, Hera. Would you like to vote on it?”