The second round of lovemaking had completely drained Ares's vigor. The god of war kissed his lover's flushed, lovely cheek, murmured a few tender words, and left in satisfied contentment.
Having thoroughly enjoyed herself with the strong, youthful wolf-dog, Aphrodite lounged lazily on the bed, her thoughts drifting back to the past.
Back then, Zeus had taken her to Olympus and used her powers to subdue countless goddesses, securing the decisive victory in the war between the old gods and the new. Yet even after that, he remained unsatisfied, harassing her again and again, even attempting to force her submission.
On top of that, Hera's simmering fury and quiet hostility behind Zeus made her all the more fearful.
Relying on her divinity and constant vigilance, she repeatedly slipped away from Zeus's pursuit, protecting herself—but in doing so, she nearly exhausted the king of gods' patience.
Worse still, the jealous queen began to see her as an eyesore and a threat to her authority. Her position grew so precarious that every step felt like walking on thin ice.
Not long after, Hephaestus—the child Hera had cast aside—came to her. Enraged, he used the golden throne he forged to trap the queen.
To escape her own predicament, Hera actually promised to marry Aphrodite off to her hideous, lame son. That bastard Zeus even went along with it, using her as a bargaining chip to calm Olympus.
She governed love, yet in the end entered marriage not for love at all. The irony was almost poetic.
But if you insult love, you will pay for it.
From that moment, Aphrodite secretly vowed to take revenge on Zeus and Hera.
To do so, she drew upon the authority inherited from Eros—the primordial god of desire among the Five Great Deities—and the bloodline of Uranus, the Sky God, and cast a curse upon the pair.
The mighty Zeus, for all his power, would be driven endlessly by lust, leaving behind a trail of karmic debts that would one day destroy him. And Hera, who persecuted her out of jealousy, would be consumed by that same jealousy, forced to keep constant watch over her unfaithful husband, never to know peace in marriage.
Years later, whenever she remembered the chaos the couple stirred on Mount Olympus, Aphrodite couldn't help feeling pleased, her face touched with the delight of vengeance.
But it still wasn't enough.
Being caught with Ares and shamed publicly by Hephaestus, Zeus, and the other gods had left Aphrodite with a deep sense of danger. Only at the very top would she never again face such humiliation.
If men conquered the world to conquer women, then she—as a woman—would conquer men to command the world and her own fate.
Her right hand tapped the bedpost rhythmically with slender, jade-like fingers while her left gently stroked her flawless cheek, her thoughts turning.
She might have tamed that young wolf with her charm, but his foundations were still far too weak. She needed to plan for him—build power, or clear away more obstacles.
Right—the Amazon Queen could be useful.
At that moment, Aphrodite's heart stirred as a distant voice echoed in her mind. She focused for a moment, then smiled.
The descendant of Poseidon, praying to me? Interesting.
Very well. Let's make a deal, little one.
But don't forget to pay the interest. Love is an expensive price.
She raised her hand, drawing together a swirl of pink mist that condensed into three golden apples. They turned into streaks of light and flew toward a crude altar somewhere in the mortal realm.
The Golden Apple—power of the earth.
Hera, anything you desire, you will never obtain.
After shaping the divine power into the form of the Golden Apple and indulging in a small act of mockery, Aphrodite's smile turned wicked.
Weariness washed over her, and like a cat basking in the afternoon sun, the goddess sprawled comfortably across the bed, her flushed body still bare as she drifted into a light nap.
...
Meanwhile, in the capital of Arcadia, Heracles stood atop the viewing platform. He glanced at the bustling street filled mostly with young men, then at the long line stretching before a certain gate, and shook his head.
"You rushed all the way to Arcadia for this? A life-or-death, absurd marriage contest?"
"I just wanted to take a look..."
Samael, his intentions exposed, cleared his throat as his gaze dodged.
Heracles rubbed his chin, thinking for a moment, and surprisingly seemed a little intrigued.
"Then why not go to Sparta? I remember Helen and the others invited you. That girl seemed to like you quite a lot. If you're interested, I can speak on your behalf."
Samael quickly shook his head, giving some vague excuse to refuse his "cousin's" goodwill.
If Heracles actually meant it, with the demigod's reputation and influence in Sparta, marrying Helen would be nearly guaranteed.
"Oh? So you're not into the frail type. Then what about that girl next to us? She looks good, healthy, and definitely capable of bearing children. Consider it?"
The mighty hero pointed directly at Hippolyta, discussing her without the slightest restraint. The Amazon Queen froze, her whole body stiff with discomfort.
Ever since working through some of his emotional knots, Heracles was no longer the brooding man he once was. Around Samael, he had grown more relaxed and open, offering advice with the casual tone of someone speaking from experience.
"If she fails to outrun them, she gets executed. This princess clearly doesn't want to marry and is using this to scare off suitors. Why get yourself dragged into Arcadia's mess?"
Samael could only smile bitterly at Heracles' questioning before reluctantly revealing the truth.
"The leader who joined the Calydon Hunt is the daughter the King of Arcadia recovered. She once swore to serve the goddess Artemis with her purity, so of course she refuses marriage.
I came to win the contest and give her the right to choose for herself."
Heracles finally understood. Before he could respond, Hippolyta placed a firm hand on Samael's shoulder, approval in her eyes and clear interest on her face.
"Well done, Theseus. You're a hero who respects us women. I have a feeling you'd get along very well with the Amazons. How about coming back to our tribe?"
"Thanks for the praise, but I refuse!"
Samael rolled his eyes and let out a weak snort before asking in frustration:
"By the way, why are you still here?"
With the strength he and Heracles possessed, the tailing Amazons had long been noticed.
Even their chance to meet Hippolyta had been intentionally arranged by the two of them.
Yet after talking, the Amazon Queen simply refused to leave.
"I still have many questions about the breeding plans. I need to consult you further."
Hippolyta answered earnestly, already pulling out a piece of parchment with her usual habit, preparing to ask more.
"Big Sis, have mercy! We'll have plenty of time later. Can you please stop following me right now?"
Samael nearly cried as he begged.
"Why?"
Hippolyta tilted her head, genuinely puzzled.
"Because I'm entering a marriage contest! Do you understand?! Bringing you along would be like slapping the Arcadia royal family across the face! No matter if I win or lose, Big Sis is going to chop me to pieces!"
Samael lamented with deep frustration, utterly helpless against the persistent tail stuck to his side.