Aphrodite's Choice

Chapter 37 – In Another Man’s Arms

An unfaithful affair had occurred. Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love and the beauty of Olympus, in the arms of Ares, the God of War. The two enjoyed secret meetings at the goddess’ residence, and their relationship became deep enough that Ares presented his favorite dagger to her. The fabricated rumor spread like wildfire in just a few days. There was no one in Olympus who did not know about this.

“What should we do, Goddess Aphrodite?”

Even Aphrodite’s nymphs became aware of the rumors and began to ask her for advice. They said no one had asked them if the rumors were real. They only suffered from questions of when it started or if they saw anything as well.

Aphrodite was silently laughing while trying to keep a poker face as she listened to her nymphs, some of whom were almost in tears. She let them prattle on for a while and then she cut them off with a “What do you mean by ‘What should we do?'”

“I’m sorry?” replied one, caught off guard.

The goddess of love said, “Rumors are just that. Rumors. Whether people believe them or not, it doesn’t affect me. I appreciate all of you being so concerned, but really, there’s no point being upset about that rumor. Just carry on and pretend you didn’t hear them.” She struggled to keep her facial expression balanced. Aphrodite wanted to express disappointment in the rumors against her, mixed with the emotionless strength that is expected in a leader. Because that was what she was to her nymphs and followers, a leader.

But it was hard when all she wanted to do was bring out that special bottle of wine from Dionysus, the god of wine himself, and laugh uproariously at the success of her plans. After all, the goddess of love’s plans were going much better than she expected: the rumors about her were spreading through Olympus like wildfire. All thanks to Apollo’s servant, Helios, who unwittingly helped her scheme.

“But Aphrodite,” said one of her nymphs in an almost-pleading tone.

“Go on, go on. Back to whatever you need to do. I will be alright,” said the goddess, allowing herself a tiny chuckle and miniscule smile to reassure her followers that she was okay.  After they filed out of her room, still talking among themselves in worried tones, Aphrodite took out the bottle and opened it. With a pop as the cork lid went flying through the air, a sweet scent perfumed the air. She filled her glass with the almost-amber liquid, took a sip, and then affirmed Dionysius’ mastery over his art and craft.

As she was about to take a second, deeper, sip, one of her nymphs nervously peeked into the doorway.

“What is it now?”

“It’s the goddess Hera.”

Aphrodite froze, glass almost to her lips for her second taste of the drink. It was never pleasant to hear that name, especially if it concerned her as well.

“What about her?” she asked cautiously.

“She asks you to present yourself at her sanctuary at this very moment.”

The goddess of love was expecting this. What she wasn’t expecting was for it to happen this soon, even before she could find out if Hephaestus had heard the rumor.  Oh well, she thought.

Aphrodite upended her glass, pouring the rest of the alcohol on the white marble floor. As she followed her nymph out of the room, the wine began to flow, resembling an infected wound on fair skin.

With her ritual attire, crown, and an expression which made her face look as if it was carved from stone, the Queen of the Gods looked more than just queenly. Indeed, as she sat on her throne with back straight as an arrow, Aphrodite thought she looked grim. Menacing. With that withering stare, even the purest of virgins would have felt they were guilty of a multitude of unknown sins. Even Zeus had been cowed with that.

Aphrodite knew that this facade was exactly that: a facade. Something Hera put on when dealing with those she intended to intimidate. Bearing this in mind, the goddess of love made a big show of not being affected at all, crossing her arms across her chest in a bored manner. The Queen of the Gods frowned and said, “Do you know why I summoned you here?”

“I have no idea,” was Aphrodite’s nonchalant reply.

Hera was about to reply indignantly when the goddess of love cut her off casually with a “Hey, why don’t you let me sit down?”

The Queen of the Gods’ knuckles whitened as she gripped her throne tightly in anger. It took her a few seconds to calm herself down. When she was sure of herself, she said, “I remember warning you on the wedding day. Have you forgotten?”

“What?”

“I told you not to touch my son!”