The Scarlet Crown

by addine995

Their affair would have to remain a closely guarded secret. For if the King found out, he would strip them both of their royal status and to hell with laws and traditions. Aphrodite might be able to get away with it, but Ares would certainly not. Zeus had already threatened him one too many times. He ought to behave or he'd lose the few privileges he had. Please R&R.

25. Chapter 25

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE (for those who celebrate). Phew, looks like I did upload it just in time after all :P I'm so sorry it took me so long to update, but I've been awfully busy and so my writing got a bit rusty I'm afraid. But during my long break from writing, I continued to do research for the story and so I finally have the visuals for the Private Quarters (and a floor plan scribbled rather awkwardly in a notebook somewhere), so there are going to be a few changes in their description in the previous chapters and the way that I will be describing it from now on. I will go back and change it at some point though. I hope.

A few explanatory things: 1) The Civil List = basically the amount of taxpayer money that royal families receive each year. It varies according to country because it depends a lot on the country's general wealth (i.e Norway is wealthier than Spain, so the Norwegian royals receive more money than their Spanish cousins). Some countries don't include all royals in the Civil List but only the King, Queen, and the heir, but that depends on the Constitution. Since Greece's economy is closer to Spain's than Norway's, I'm basing their "salaries" on those of the Spanish royals. For clarity's sake, Zeus receives 15,000 euros (17,014 USD) each month, so that means 180,000 euros (204,165 USD) annually. It doesn't sound regal, but the royals also have private funds (e.g. investments, other businesses etc), so they're not exactly 'welfare recipients'.

2) Tatoi: there's huge lack of info about the palace and the estate, but as you may have gathered so far (and what I've found), it's basically a huge farm: 47,000 stremmata (Greek measure of unit, equivalent to circa 10,000 acres) deep in the forest, with a small village that's basically a farm unit, all part of the royal estate. There was also a small hotel in Tatoi (back in the 1890s - 1900s) which non-royal wealthy people could visit as long as they didn't stay for more than 48 hours (King's orders). There was also a Crown Princely palace (burned down, then demolished in the 1930s I think). The Palace itself is more like a mansion than a palace, although it's declared as such. If you want to get a view of what it looked like, you may google either Tatoi Palace or Farm Palace in Peterhof, Russia (which was used as the blueprint for Tatoi). I'm taking some artistic liberties in the amount of rooms it had, since I couldn't find that info anywhere. But everything else (the cinema, the King's office, the sound-proved room, the dining room, the village etc) are factual.

3) I may have gotten a bit too excited with describing Greek Christmas traditions there :P But don't blame me, it's the Christmas spirit :P

---

25 December 2006

10:30 AM

Syntagma Square, Central Athens

People were passing them by, shaking hands and wishing them a Merry Christmas. All of them were just random faces they would never see again, mere strangers amongst the crowd taking the stage just to kiss the back of their hands and bow or curtsy awkwardly to them. It was them they had come to see.

The most famous family in Greece. A symbol of unity and togetherness, the symbolic connection of the past to the present and the future. Everyone felt connected to them because everyone knew them.

Or so they thought.

Ares just wanted to leave. He felt exposed sitting on the stage, with the world's eyes on him, surrounded by his closest family and with her right in front of him.

Like a beautiful curse...

The 'meet-and-greet' ceremony was a tradition that Zeus had introduced early on in his reign as a way to bring the Royal Family closer to the people. It was meant to symbolize equality and togetherness. The greatest joke of all time. It was moments like this that made Ares realize just how big the gap between the royals and the rest of the Greeks was. Seeing all these people dressed casually (some were even wearing jeans and sports jackets) came in stark contrast with the fancy fairytale that his own family sold. Like actors on a play, they had to stand up, look pretty, and pretend that everything was fine in their lives. In short, they had to sell a lie in order to survive.

It reminded him of what someone had told him once. They were standing behind a semi-transparent curtain. People could see what was going on inside, but they could not get a clear picture. But the sight was so magical, so filled with colours, music, and magic, that no one dared push it back to get a better look. As if they knew that drawing the curtains would distort the magic and make them face the truth: that all the dancers were, in fact, perfectly tuned marionettes.

Today was one of those days. In more ways than one.

Christmas for them had began with an early morning but marathon service at the Metropolitan Cathedral of the Annunciation - the grandest one in Greece. Three insufferable hours of endless Byzantine hymns sung in ancient Greek by the Archbishop of Athens and All Greece (to give his full title) and as many senior-ranking bishops and reverends as they could get had made Ares want to stab himself from boredom. For a minute, he had cursed his father for abolishing the custom that royal men should attend the service in full military uniform. His sword would have been most useful. He could have amused himself with its cutting edges or at least clung on to it for dear life instead of awkwardly crossing his hands in front of him. To make matters worse, the Prime Minister with his wife and his ministers with all of their spouses were there too, as were the TV cameras that captured every moment of the service and every corner of the interior of the church. Once again, the whole of the Royal Family had made for quite the interesting picture to capture... Yet he had been thankful for that one. It had made it easier for him to avoid her. Aphrodite that is. She had been standing there, right in front of him and next to their father, trying to conceal her own boredom or desire to yawn.

As soon as that torture had been over, a large motorcade had been waiting them outside. Some of the cars would take the lesser royals to Tatoi whereas the King, the Queen, and their children - bar Hebe and Eileithyia - would drive all the way to Syntagma Square, where they would take their seats to a small stage built especially for them right in front of the grand Christmas tree in the centre of the marble square. Facing the imposing building of the Hellenic Parliament as it proudly stood behind the marble staircase that marked the beginning of the Square and the long boulevard that was now mostly deserted, the Royal Family would spend the next two hours greeting strangers and looking like they were having a good time.

They even looked every bit the part. The King and his adopted son were dressed in smart, three-piece day suits complete with a tie and cuff links. As for the Queen and the Princesses, they were dressed in simple knee-length day skirt-suits, high heels, and heavy coats. True to form, Her Majesty had also matched her ivory outfit with a golden pillbox hat and a French bun. Hera and Aphrodite were sitting by Zeus and right next to each other. As for him, he was standing next to Athena and Eris in the second row of chairs.

Ares didn't know why he had been so surprised to find such big crowds today. It had not been any different than all the previous years. Syntagma Square was always the very heart of the city and Christmas Day was no exception. Normally, people came over to meet with their friends at the surrounding cafeterias or to shop at Ermou street right behind them. But today, that the stores were shut, the people of Athens seemed more drawn to the decorations. the Christmas Carousel was a short distance away as large, colourful, and full of music as Ares could remember it. Unlike them, however, that remained the same, old and boring big music box year after year. Yet all those kids didn't seem to care. They all just wanted to get on it and join yet another merry-go-round. As for their parents, they could find that much-needed coffee in the Christmas market nearby. The teasing mixed scent of sweet, fresh-baked crepes, honeyed almonds, roasted chestnuts, hot chocolate, coffee, and wine was teasing everyone's nostrils and even the Royal Family had to resist the urge to let their empty stomachs growl in excited anticipation. (Good for them, though, they would visit it right after this whole handshaking party was over. Tasting the delicacies was in order at such events.)

The Christmas melodies from the Carousel were filling the breezy Athenian air. They also mixed perfectly with the laughter and the murmurs from the spectators, the loud talking of the reporters - who had to capture that tradition on camera as well - and the occasional wailing of babies or dogs barking. You'd think that even the stray dogs of Athens would stop hunting for food or some genuine love just to get a glimpse of the Royal Family. Well, who could blame them? They made for quite the attraction.

But none of that mattered to Ares. All he could see was her.

There must have been a reason she had worn red. He had read in an interview of hers once that she had always loved to display meanings via her choice of clothes. As far as he was concerned, red signified the extremes - violence on the one hand and seduction on the other. It was clearly a message for him. And with her blond curls falling softly on her shoulders and back, he couldn't help comparing it to melted gold dissipating into lava.

He was being ridiculous. Maybe she had simply been trying to be in a festive mood. After all, everything was so frighteningly red during Christmas. Even the lucky charms that the King was handing out to all those strangers who shook his hand (some even kissed the back of it) and greeted him awkwardly were adorned with a red and golden ribbon.

But something in him kept telling him otherwise. She was trying to send him a message. That she had gone over him, perhaps. Well, he wouldn't be surprised. He wouldn't have been the first man she'd have trapped in her nets just for the joy of seeing him suffer.

Ares hated it. All of it. It made him feel like an animal in a circus. He just needed something to happen. Anything. All those lively discussions, the utmost joy and the festive atmosphere made him sick to his stomach. Or perhaps it was also the realization that, despite everything, he was still an outsider.

He didn't belong on that stage, right behind her. He should have been amongst the crowd, dressed in his blue jeans and coming with his friends just for the sake of trying to charm the Crown Princess. In that parallel universe, they'd have made a bet and he'd have been determined to win it. He'd have put on his best perfume, mustered his most enchanting smile... She'd have been so intrigued by him that she'd have raised holy hell on finding out what his name was and whether he was still single. That way, he would have had the upper hand and not the other way around. Yes, things would have been simpler that way. Easier too. If something had gone wrong, at least they'd have the memories without the regret. They'd have been allowed the freedom to move on with their lives.

Or maybe not. He had always been told that we get the life that we're given for a reason. Perhaps his was to always be in Aphrodite's shadow. To watch every day of her life, to know her better than anyone else had ever had...

Suddenly, a baby's cries filled the air. Coming back to reality, Ares saw two embarrassed young parents trying to calm down their little girl. Her pacifier had fallen off apparently and she looked young. About a couple months old.

Aphrodite didn't waste a second. Not caring about ruining her dress, she stood up and held the baby in her arms. Ares kept his eyes fixed on the tiny girl's face. Within seconds, her cries had magically stopped. Aphrodite had been holding her head protectively with one hand and with the other, she was securing her close to her. The baby kept staring at her in wonder, as if she had been the most wonderful thing in the world. Seconds later, she burst out laughing and brought her tiny hands to the Crown Princess' face. Aphrodite then rested her head on her shoulder and rubbed her back, to ask her parents about her name and age. Wobbling, the little one managed to raise her head just a little bit. Her and Ares' eyes met and he looked away.

Perhaps Aphrodite had been right. They could never get one of their own. He'd love their child too much that he'd have destroyed everyone who dared claim fatherhood over them.

Athena's chuckles brought him back to reality. Seeing his parents also laughing at the sudden antic, he tried to join but only half-heartedly. Aphrodite handed the baby back to her parents. The little one protested a little until she realized that she was back into her mother's arms.

The young pair left the stage and Aphrodite sat back down on her chair. Not bearing to look at her, Ares looked to his left to the Grande Bretagne. The night before, he had sought solace on its roof, savoring that much-needed smoke. After he had confronted Aphrodite, he had escaped to the rooftop through the fire escape. He had needed to have a smoke badly. From up there, he had taken a while to enjoy the breathtaking view. Athens really looked magnificent that night, with its endless blend of the yellow street lights and the golden and silver rays of the decorations on the streets.

But now, he could feel someone watching from above, mocking him proudly with her ravenous stare. He knew who it was. Only the day before, he had been faced with her very force right there, in that god-damned suite. Hiding her hair under a big hat and her face behind large sunglasses, Dione was standing on the balcony. She had seen everything.

He fixed his posture, as if that'd make him feel less exposed. He kept staring ahead, trying to pay no attention to her. That woman scared him. If her daughter was fire, then she was ice. Rather, she was like an iceberg, keeping most of herself underwater. Only Aphrodite could melt her or see through her. He had witnessed for himself the day before, in that god-damned suite, how she always kept her cards close to her chest yet attacked carefully and steadily. Her presence was so intimidating that he had never felt so uncomfortable in his entire life!

Everyone in his family had been talking about the reason she had come to Greece so abruptly. Aphrodite was a great alibi but Ares couldn't help feeling that her travel had something to do with him as well.

Today she'd join them for the festivities. Perhaps he should use it to his advantage. It'd be so much easier for him to treat Aphrodite like his sister knowing that her mother was around. Like she was yet another Athena, Eris, or Eileithyia.

But she was not. She could never be.

And he despised her for that.

---

11:30 AM

Royal Suite, Hotel GB

"A smart girl leaves before she is left."

This Marilyn Monroe quote has always been my motto. Funny story actually, I had actually even written it all over the vanity mirror when I was twelve and spending the summer in my maternal family's home in the French Riviera. At that age, I was so into her that I'd copy her mannerisms and expressions. I nearly styled my hair after her, too. The fascination had started after Mother had given me her biography for my eleventh birthday. It gave both the Palace and the Oceanides family a heart attack, but for different reasons. The former worried about my image (poor Marilyn is still viewed merely as a sex symbol in Greece) and the latter feared that I might lose my very own vibrant and feisty personality. I guess they have somehow been training me to become a levelheaded feminist since early on in life. It all ended when Grandma Tethys eventually told me, "If you want to admire her, fine. But for heaven's sake, don't let it rid you of your own uniqueness!"

And then she proceeded to give me a giant copy of the iconic picture of Marilyn in that flowing white dress as a Christmas gift.

But that is not the point.

If I had that mirror in front of me right now, I'd add Tethys Oceanides' quote right underneath that of Norma Jeane. And then I'd take a step back, draw a deep breath, read it all over again, and then just spread my wings and fly away.

Then why the heck am I crying over yet another guy?

I'm not very much in the mood for Christmas today, as you can imagine. That nasty headache still hasn't gone away, I woke up with black circles under my eyes, and everyone might as well be speaking Chinese. Try as I might to figure things out, I don't know where to start or which way I should go. The more I try to answer to the millions of questions that have been buzzing in my head since yesterday, the more confused I become.

Did Ares and I break up? Did we ever have a real relationship to begin with? What happened between us feels more like a one-night-stand which had gone so well that we repeated it after we had missed each other enough. At the end of the day, though, he's still my brother.

Or isn't he anymore?

But those two nights we spent together must have meant something to both of us. He made love to me like he had lusted for me all his life. I'm not ashamed to admit that I felt the same way. But still. Was it true love that united us or was it solely based on lust? Growing up, we'd treat each other like the forbidden fruit we were so desperate to eat. But once we had had a bite or two, we threw it away in disgust.

Now we're contemplating whether we'll pick it up again.

I'm sorry for all those metaphors. It happens a lot when I get emotional.

Mother always says I should become a poet. Maybe one day, I will. For now, though, I have other things to worry about.

Ares will never be out of my life. Ever. For better or worse, we're the only family he has. Despite everything, we still have grown up together. He'll always be a Prince of Greece. But I'll become a Queen of the Hellenes. And then the fun begins...

I don't expect that people will ever find out the truth about us. Our "sibling" closeness has always fascinated everyone in this country and, quite possibly, the rest of the world. If I cast him aside somehow or denounce him from his title, I will certainly raise a few eyebrows and an awful lot of questions.

In the worst case scenario, I'll have to spend the rest of my life tolerating him in events we'll have to attend together and hope that no one will ever discover the truth. No, wait. That is actually be the best possible turn of events. If the worst is meant to happen, then... I don't know. I can't think that clearly.

All I know for sure is that I don't want to go to Tatoi. At all. A room full of my royal relatives is actually the last damn thing I need right now. They'll all be throwing me pitiful looks and asking if I'm alright. Not to mention that I'll be smelling his own cologne, lingering in the air...

Normally, I just turn the page after a breakup. One guy gone, in comes another. Simple as that. The story is finished as soon as I add the poor man in my list of lovers - along with a grade for their overall performance - and then I let it rot in the lingerie drawer until the next time. For the record, this is also where I keep the pages I tore from my private diary, the ones in which I chronicle the day I committed the abortion.

I saw it in my dreams again. That's why I couldn't sleep. I kept wandering around in the suite like a ghost in my white flannel gown, staring out at the empty boulevard from the windows. But I stick to my beliefs. I'll never regret it. I loved that baby enough to not curse it into a terrible life. Even if Ares hadn't been the father but someone else, a random strangers or some guy I dated for long enough, I'd still have done the same thing.

"I will speak to your father tonight."

Mother's gentle voice brings me back to reality. She's going to make him some kind of an offer, but I'm afraid I don't know any more than you do. She'll tell me once everything has been said and done, she said.

There she is now, sitting on the side of my bed in her lilac Oscar de la Renta skirt suit and matching jacket. She has removed her high heels and holds her cup of coffee in one hand and the saucer on the other. And then there's me, the very personification of a walking mess, setting down my lipstick and taking one last look of my reflection in the mirror.

At least my hair looks good...

The Oceanides women have taught me that red lipstick, high heels, and a fancy dress can solve every problem. It rather sounds like they were educating me to become a Parisian courtesan of some kind. They could have also simply told me to be confident no matter what. But, they're not exactly known for being clear when they can be wordy.

Just pretend for a moment here that everything I say today makes sense. Otherwise, I'm going to be the most obnoxious person you've ever met. Unless you bring along food. Then I'll love you forever.

Frankly, if it was up to me, I'd change into my pajamas and stay in bed all day with Blanche in tow to keep me company. But I can't tell Mother that. True to her and her sisters' values, she rushed in with that well-known, storm-like force of hers and immediately fretted upon seeing Anna lay out a pair of blue jeans, sneakers, and a plain baggy sweater for me. And indeed, so bewildered was she, that poor Anna had to follow her to my boudoir so that she could carry the clothes Mother picked out instead. It's still too early in the day for me to mess with her, so I just let her win. That's how I somehow ended up in a D&G pair of black jeans, a Gucci black top, an Alexander McQueen red coat, and a pair of maroon Chanel over-knee boots.

I guess I shouldn't remind her that Tatoi is in the middle of the forest then. She'll snap back that Stansworth Hall (her parents' estate in Surrey) is one big happy farm as well and, by the way, just because I feel like a moving wreck doesn't mean I also have to look like one!

In short: don't mess with Dione Oceanides. You've already lost.

Her own sense of glamour might be miles away from mine, but this is still the same woman who had decorated my bedroom in her New York home with pictures of Old Hollywood divas because she wanted me to be one of them when I'd grow up.

Apparently, she was going for Katherine Hepburn and Lauren Bacall. She ended up with a wild mix of pretty much everyone and everything.

I know what you think. 'That explains a lot.'

Well I guess so. Maybe.

As if that wasn't enough, though, Mother also opened the little suitcase with all the outfits I'd take with me to Tatoi. When I said we're spending the whole day there, I meant it. We're actually taking out outfits with us. We're not going to need much. Just something for lunch, then for the afternoon walk, and then a gown for dinner, along with the necessary accessories. The evening dresses will arrive in suit bags via helicopter after lunch. As for our hair and makeup, there is a small hairdressing salon in one of the rooms at the Palace there so that we can get ready in peace.

When precious, exhausted, and criminally underpaid Anna was done, Mother nodded in approval. Of course she would. I had actually chosen those outfits two months ago, so that Anna and 'Ursula' would have plenty of time to prepare them.

As you can guess, she is also bringing along her own little suitcase. Both hers and mine are currently at the entrance hall to make sure that my bodyguards will remember to carry them to the car when we leave.

She hasn't asked what exactly happened between me and Ares. I told her during breakfast that we had had a fight, but that was it. She doesn't know why or what for. Instead, she changed the subject and told me all that she and Hera discussed during their audience before adding that she didn't really care about her or her opinions. She was more excited to see Queen Rhea and Uncle Poseidon again. Well of course. For some reason that shall forever remain a mystery, these two are good friends. I can't say the same about Amphitrite, though. She's always been the ringleader of Team Hera. Or Team Peacock. It goes by both names. She might also probably be her undercover spy. I don't know why but I don't really trust her. There is something about her 'Miss Goody Two Shoes' attitude that seems toMy hair is styled in a messy ponytail which I destroy at once so good to be true...

Plus, she's Poseidon's wife. She chose to be. Let that sink in.

So, needless to say that her and Peacock will be keeping a close eye on us two then. All. Day. Long.

Kill me now.

I take another look of myself in the mirror. I destroy my messy ponytail at once. I feel safer when I wear my hair down. I like the light feeling that they give me, as if I'm a bird set free... I shake my head to give it its lost volume back. Now, messy curls fall on my shoulders. This style is in perfect harmony with the rest of the outfit. Like a warrior queen on her way to the battlefield.

Or like Athena on a normal, working day.

Oh geez, my situation's getting worse.

Mother walks up to me. Running her fingers gently over my forehead, she pushes back a few stray strands of hair. It's her own, wordless way to say she loves it better this way. Anna is in the boudoir, tidying up the disaster that Hurricane Dione caused in its passing.

I can't keep it in any longer. Holding Mother's hand tight, I look into her eyes. They're filled with worry.

"He knows."

I don't need to tell her who I'm referring to. She has already realized what I mean. She is trying to avoid my gaze, but that little gleam in her stare reveals that she looks... happier? Calmer? If I didn't know any better, I'd say she is happy that Ares and I are no longer together.

Of that, I can be sure.

She takes another sip of her coffee. Staring blankly at the wall ahead, she draws a deep breath. Anna, sensing the thick air that has arisen, closes the door to the boudoir, giving Mother and I enough privacy to discuss that.

"You've done the right thing," she says eventually. "Your body is your own. You shouldn't let some manly selfishness and possessiveness get in the way of your very own happiness."

She must have repeated those words at least a thousand times since that day. This is also basically the entire rhetoric of the Gynae Foundation. Mother had actually made a similar statement in a speech and she's become known as a feminist icon ever since. But that's not the point.

I don't know whether those were exactly the kind of words I needed to hear. The more I hear them, really, the more I feel that they have absolutely nothing to do with me or with my situation. Heck, I don't even know I'm crying!

Mother has made me realize it by wiping my tears with her soft fingertips.

"I know it may sound ridiculous," she furthers. "But pretend he's your brother. Just for today. However, if you really need to cry, I am certain that you will find an empty room. The Palace is certainly big enough!"

"I just want to scream at his face, slap him so hard that he knows how much I hurt, throw things on the walls, just... do something!"

As I'm saying that, I clench both my hands in fists and dig my nails so deep into my skin that they've certainly left a mark. Mother kneels before me, taking both of my hands in hers. "You will do it once we're back in the hotel. We could leave from Tatoi earlier, if that is what you wish. To be honest, I'm not thrilled about them entertaining me either. But I received a personal invitation from the King and I am related to you. So, you may say I am not the only one in trouble today!"

"I hate having to put on a brave face. Everyone keeps praising it, but it's just pretending."

She nods. "Just remember what Marilyn used to say."

I give her a faint smile. "A smart girl leaves before she is left."

"Exactly! At the end of the day, he's yet another guy."

So far so good. But I'm still a mess. The greatest one in all of history by the look of it.

In fact, the longer I think about it, the more I feel like I've failed.

Simply put, I'm not smart enough it seems. Otherwise, absolutely nothing would've happened between Ares and me.

But I'll be fine, I guess. I mean I've definitely survived far worse than this.

Or maybe not. We'll just wait and see.

I'm sure of one thing, though. Christmas is going to be extremely long this year.

---

A guest room, Palace of Tatoi, Acharnes, East Attica

The radio was tuned to the only station they could find that didn't play Christmas songs. Hebe had protested, even presenting Eileithyia with a cassette of children choirs singing the carols. But, eventually, she had to deal with the fact that her older sister had grown sick and tired of the festive spirit. "All the Christmas songs they're playing are about break-ups!"

"But they're happy ones!" Hebe argued.

"You can't have a happy separation."

"Why not?"

"Because it's an oxymoron."

"What's an oxymoron?"

"It's ironic, it doesn't stick well... Now come here, let me fix your ponytail!"

They had arrived in Tatoi straight after the service at the Metropolitan Cathedral was over, along with their aunts, uncles, cousins, Eris, and their grandmother. (King Cronus had, not surprisingly, once again turned down the invite). While the grown-ups were enjoying each other's company over a much-needed cup of coffee awaiting the arrival of Ares, Athena, Aphrodite, and Zeus and Hera - in that order -, the younger ones were enjoying the crisp but sunny weather by playing hide and seek in the woods along with some children of the staff, who lived in the nearby village. Triton had been the only one that hadn't joined them, preferring to spend some time with the Chief Forester's fifteen-year-old daughter, much to his sister's dislike. Since last year, every time they'd come to Athens, her brother would always spend more time with that girl than with them and she couldn't understand why her parents grinned like idiots every time she complained about it. But today she had been busier keeping an eye on Hebe, who had, somehow, tripped and fallen face-down into thick mud, ruining her fuchsia dress and blue coat. It was only after the Chief Forester and the Chief Equerry had discovered her that the children had found out that the brown dirt all over Hebe was, in fact, horse manure.

Within minutes, a jeep had been summoned to bring the two Princesses back into the Palace (which was a forbidden realm to the other children). Although the drive was short, even the people inside the car couldn't help holding their noses and grimacing in disgust. Hebe's nanny had been given the day off but, thankfully, a maid and Eileithyia had come to the rescue at once. After they had drawn her a hot bath and thrown away her dirty clothes, they had dressed her into a velvet emerald green dress with puffed sleeves and a white shirt collar, complete with white stockings and black ballerina shoes. It had belonged to Eris in the late 1980s and, since it had been kept in an old chest since she had outgrown it, it stunk of naphthalene. But that was the least of Hebe's problems:

"I look like one of Santa's elves!" she complained as she was sitting on her sister's lap, looking at herself in the full length mirror.

"But you're so cute!" Eileithyia exclaimed cheerfully.

Hebe tugged on her collar. "I don't like it!"

"Pretend that you do and I won't tell Mother you were chasing after the butter maker's daughter in the stables!" Eileithyia said, pulling her sister's hair so that she can style it in a ponytail. "You know how much she hates it when we get friendly with the staff!"

"But she handed out gifts to them two weeks ago!"

"That's tradition, honey. That's different."

Each year, two weeks before Christmas, the King and Queen would host a ceremony in the Royal Palace, in which they would hand out presents to their team of staff - from their Private Secretaries to the assistant cooks and gardeners. Then, a detailed list of the items given and their respective prices would be presented to the King, who would sign it so that it could then be delivered to the Prime Minister, as part of the government's control of the Royal Family's finances, since they had to pay for those via their royal appanage.

"Either way," Eileithyia furthered, "just because it's a game, doesn't mean you shouldn't watch where you're going."

But Hebe had grown tired of her sister's complaints. "She chased after me first!"

Eileithyia was about to give her sister another lesson in good behaviour, but the door opened and Eris hurriedly burst in. She asked Eileithyia straight out. "What were you doing in Aphrodite's room last night?"

Her sudden invasion stunned both of her sisters. Eileithyia had stepped into the Royal Suite during the Christmas Eve gala because she was worried about Aphrodite. She had seen Ares rush out of the elevator and go out, fuzzing with the inner pockets of his jacket in search for his pack of cigarettes. But Aphrodite had gone AWOL. When she had gone into the Royal Suite, she had seen Aphrodite lying on the floor like a ball, holding her stomach, eyes red from crying, and her makeup completely ruined. Despite her protests to leave her alone, Eileithyia helped her stand up, gave her a glass of water, and convinced her to help her. Whatever had happened to her must have been awful and she had known better than to ask any questions.

Hebe, oblivious everything that had happened behind the scenes the night before, pointed her finger at Eris. "Gossip, gossip!"

Hands on hip, Eris turned at her baby sister. "You are staying here on the condition that you don't speak!" Hebe moved a 'zip my lips' move. Scoffing at her sister's childishness, Eris turned to Eileithyia.

"Nothing," Eileithyia replied. "I just helped her fix her makeup! She told me what to do. Then I comforted her. She even asked me if I had ever fallen in love!"

Eris chuckled. "Good one. Now, tell me the truth."

Eileithyia had enough. As long as she could remember, Eris had always underestimated her. When they were little, she would scold her about her long nose and her big eyes. Then she kept reminding her how she hated her soft voice and her "homely" style. Much as Hera disliked Eris' attitude, she often took her side on that topic. Eileithyia knew that she was ugly compared to her sisters (especially Aphrodite and Athena), but much as she had convinced herself that her sister was just mad, sometimes her nasty comments did get to her. She translated Eris' chuckle as: 'You don't even know how to wear your own lipstick!'

"Learn Chinese or something!" she yelled. Both Eris and Hebe were caught by surprised. Eris took a step back and Hebe got up instinctively. Eileithyia added: "You're my sister and I love you. But stop ruining other people's lives because you can't get yours in order! Since you've broken up with that... stockbroker, financier... whatever and you've been mean ever since!"

Eris had no idea what to say. If Hebe wasn't watching, she'd have slapped Eileithyia right across the face. How dare she remind her of that man! He had broken her heart. And it had hurt. Bad. Worse than Aphrodite had made it seem. He had been a financier, a few years older than her, and she had met him in a night club. Things between them had become so serious that he had met the Royal Family. In fact, the Palace had nearly issued an engagement announcement, despite her parents' vocal disapproval. Eris had been too young, she still had her whole life ahead of her, she hadn't needed to be in a rush to marry... But the press had told a different story. Pictures of them holidaying in the Greek islands and eating out in restaurants had graced the gossip columns, they had been photographed and interviewed for major Greek lifestyle magazines, everyone had been expecting hers to be the first royal wedding of her generation... Until, one day, just like that, he had disappeared. He hadn't even bothered to let her know and he wouldn't answer her persistent phone calls. Two weeks later, Zeus had come to her room with an NIS agent. They had presented her with a classified detailed report on him. His father had been working for the dictatorial regime in the 1970s and he had been accused for the execution of over a hundred Communists during that time. As for the jerk himself, he had been involved in a money laundering scheme and had fled London (where he lived) for Mexico to avoid trial and imprisonment. The MI5 and the Hellenic Royal Police had been after him. The Palace had managed to avoid scandal by issuing a statement saying that the Princess had been oblivious to the truth about him and that she had broken off her relationship with him as soon as she had found out. Much as Eris wanted to talk about it with someone, she couldn't. Her parents had refused to discuss it any further and her mother even had kept reminding her that she had grander plans for her, a prince perhaps? Having no one else to turn to (Aphrodite was too self-centered, Athena too intelligent, Ares was a man, Eileithyia knew nothing about love, and Hebe was too young), she had turned all that frustration and heartbreak into anger, fury, and a constant need to see the people around her as messy as she had been. Deep down, she knew that it was wrong, but she couldn't help it. It's who she was.

"You're a good person deep down, Eris," Eileithyia added. "You're just jealous. I don't know if it's Aphrodite you're after but... if you come to terms with the fact that you'll never be like her, you will become much happier!"

Eris had no idea what to say. Instead, she excused herself and walked away. Hebe, standing by the radio that was still playing random everyday songs, commented: "She needs a man." Eileithyia gave her a bewildered look. Looking at her shoes, Hebe added: "That's what Aphrodite says."

"Don't tell her that," Eileithyia replied.

Hebe rubbed her foot against the floor. "What does it mean?"

"You're too young to know."

---

11:00 AM

Aphrodite's car

The car is driving on a narrow sand road, surrounded by endless rows of pine trees. Pop music is playing softly on the radio but neither Mother and I are paying any attention to it. We're too busy to pay any attention to our surroundings or to care about what is expecting us to the end of the road. The only one who is really excited to be here is Blanche. As soon as she realized when we were going, she started to jump up and down in the car and in our laps, shredding white hair all over our clothes. She actually rather reminds me of me when I was little.

Let's just look past my own issues for a moment so that I can explain to you what is going on. We've just entered the estate of Tatoi. This vast estate of 11,600 acres is securely hiding among a thick forest. You could say it's a small world in its own right. On first glance, it does not seem reminiscent of or suitable for royalty. It is practically a very large farm, complete with cows, goats, sheep, and horses. The small village is scattered all over the estate, making sure that the Royal Family is well tended to, that the forest won't burn down, and that the Palace will stay in place next time we care to occupy it again.

After all, none of them would have been here if it wasn't for the Royal Family's former summer residence.

Kept at a safe distance from the farm and the village, it is surrounded with everything that the Royal Family needs to feel at home. Climb down the stone double staircase in the garden (with a small fountain in the middle of it) and you go to the swimming pool. A short distance away, you can find the tennis and basketball courts. If you turn to the left, you will see a small forest. The Royal Cemetery is right behind it, along with a small church for the funerals and the christenings. The garage and the residence staffers' homes are on our right. You can just jump into a jeep and from there, you can go to the helipad. That's when the Palace gardens end and the farm begins. In case you get lost, follow the smell of the horses. That's how you know you're in the village now.

But! Do not let the name fool you. Tatoi is a Palace only in name. In fact, it is a large mansion or an oversized winter chalet made exclusively of bricks and stones. Built in the early twentieth century, it is a replica of the Farm Palace in Peterhof, Russia. Ironically enough, my ancestors wanted to occupy it during the summer months, at a time when Greece still hadn't taken its current form, the Greek islands belonged to other countries, and only half of the modern mainland count count as the "official" Greek state. (The story is long, complicated, and a bit blurry, so we'll just have to keep it there).

By the way, the Palace is also encircled by the ruins of a hotel and some two-story house intended to be the Crown Princely Palace, because at some point they were considering to turn it into the full-time royal residence. It didn't work because it was too far away from Athens. No wonder why Athena made herself at home in there then. She wants to avoid people as much as possible, this one.

Also, random funny story. Once, the U.S. President and his wife visited Thunder and Peacock in here when they had come for a state visit a few years ago. He had described it as a mix between a fancier Camp David and a greener Texas ranch. (He actually was raised in that state, so he must know what he's talking about). Now, my royal distant cousins over there in Britain had also described it as a miniature Sandringham. That's where they love to spend their own Christmases. Yes, they're always kind like that. Especially when they don't like you.

Just kidding.

Back to the lecture on architecture. The Palace of Tatoi is four stories high - including the underground floor and the attic. Go to the ground floor and you will find two drawing rooms, an enormous dining room (the only room in the house that actually is reminiscent of a palace) with a sound-proved room next to it, the King's Office, a sitting room in the entrance hall, and a WC for the guests. On the second floor, you get separate bedrooms for the King and Queen and plenty of guest rooms, all complete with marble fireplaces and with an en-suite bathroom and walk-in closet. Go to the underground floor and you will find there the first-ever home cinema in Greece, if not Europe (a gift from the Greek founder of a very famous American movie productions company), and a special bunker just in case there's an emergency and we need to be safe. On top of it, there's an attic which also served as Zeus Almighty's bedroom when he was little. Nowadays, we keep some of our old possessions in there for archival purposes. To make matters worse, they all bear the same mark: the Royal Family's Coat of Arms along with the words ΒΑΣΙΛΙΚΟ ΚΤΗΜΑ ΤΑΤΟΪΟΥ [ROYAL ESTATE OF TATOI] right underneath. The items in the Royal Palace are marked similarly, except that they read ΒΑΣΙΛΙΚΑ ΑΝΑΚΤΟΡΑ [ROYAL PALACE] under the Coat. None of these should be removed from the building where they belong, or else the archivists and historians will be unable to track them down and chaos will ensue.

Fun fact: this is where Mother and Thunder's wedding rings have been hiding all along. But she kept her wedding gown. She recycled it years later, when she was pregnant with Niobe.

The decoration however stinks of Hera. She doesn't even try to hide that she's not that much of a Christmas person, probably because it steals the thunder from her birthday. Every. Single. Year. Must be really annoying. So, simply put, she wins the award for the most minimalistic Christmas decorator of all time. Honestly. She can beat even the top notch interior decorators in New York with her "simplicity". But, tradition is tradition, and so we get two Christmas trees in both Palaces. I've already mentioned the humongous real tree in the Diplomat's Hall at the Royal Palace. The second, much smaller and artificial one is in the entrance hall of the Private Quarters (because that's the only room in there with plenty of free space). Same rules apply at Tatoi. Except that both trees in there are artificial to save up costs. Experts may also say that we do it so that the average Greek household can identify with us because, well, Greece isn't really a fir tree country. (Here's looking at you, Scandinavia). So, the first tree can be found in the King's office, serving as the perfect background for his Christmas speech. As for the second one, that's in the living room. That's the fun one because that's where all the gifts are. Needless to say, all of the trees are fully decorated. Peacock has better things to do than be reminded of the one holiday she hates the most.

Honestly, what is wrong with this woman?

And here is one last fun fact. My great-great-great-grandmother, the first Queen from the House of Olympios and the one that was born a princess of Hohenzollern-Sigmarinen was the first to introduce the tradition of the Christmas tree in Greece. Before that, all the Greeks would decorate a traditional Greek fishing boat (called a trehantiri for your useless information) because they were a nation of fishermen, sailors, and anyway, we love our islands a little too much. We honour that tradition too, by the way. On the central landing in the Grand Staircase in the Royal Palace, there is one made of crystal and gold. The one in Tatoi is exclusively made of wood. We gotta act like a traditional Greek family, somehow.

Why am I wasting your time this way? Well... I need a distraction. I know, I keep telling that often. But the thought of Ares and I spending the rest of the day under the same room is enough to drive me mad.

Mother and I actually did get a better offer. Some of her friends had invited us to celebrate with them at their mansions outside Athens. When the King makes a personal invite, however, you must accept. Or else all hell will break loose, you'll be called a traitor, and he'll have you either exiled or executed.

And we don't want that I suppose. Although, metaphorically speaking, that is likely what is going to happen either way.

Mark my words.

At least Hephaestus is not allowed to join us. The invite is strictly restricted to official members of the family, thank heavens. Thinking about it, though, it is rather funny. Who could imagine a few years ago that Mother and I would spend Christmas with our exes?

I could actually turn it into a script, give it to a prominent film producer under a fake name, and voilà, you have another badly written Christmas rom-com.

"Pretty sure Hera's had botox done. You can't have such a stiff face unless you put actual poison in it!"

And here's who's going to portray me. That, actually, is my cousin, Hollywood's brightest rising star, and an all-around ray of sunshine. Also known as Astris Heliades. Her mother, Clymene, is Mother's immediate older sibling by a couple of years. They both divorced our fathers at around the same time, which led to Astris and me being attached to the hip since day one. Apologies to my darling Niobe, but our cousin is the closest thing I have to a real sister. We even fight over whose father is the biggest jerk. But that's a story for another time.

She called us to wish us a merry Christmas and to let us know she missed us, but it couldn't be further from the truth. It's nine o'clock in England as we speak, everyone else is asleep, and she is bored as heck. In typical Oceanides fashion, however, what started off as endless teasing soon turned into our favourite topic: family pictures! The official Christmas portraits of the Greek Royal Family were released a few days ago and Lydia also ensured that my maternal family also got plenty of copies to last them a lifetime. Whereas everyone else kept talking about how much Blanche has grown or how great my outfit looked on me, Astris chose to be original yet again. Apparently, Peacock's bitterness makes for a far more interesting topic.

"Peacock must have taken her shots this morning too, then," I tease. "I swear she looked bitterer than a sour lemon!"

She laughs, stifling down a yawn. It's my fault. I woke her up in the middle of the night yesterday because I desperately needed to hear a friendly voice. I must have sounded really upset, because we spent the next two hours on the phone with her telling me various funny stories and trying to make me laugh in the best way that she could, especially after I had mentioned Ares' name. (She is the only person in the whole wide world who knows the whole truth. But she'll never tell as soul. In fact, I think she rather likes it, much as she keeps admitting the opposite. And that's how you know we're related.) Long story short, I now know every little backstage shenanigan from the TV show that she's shooting. It's a spy comedy mixed with romance and drama. Sounds complicated, but it's actually pretty good. She's currently on a full-time holiday for the time being, because her character is lying in bed with a broken arm and leg following a mission in Madeira or something. In fact, the show's producers didn't want to add the pregnancy to the plot, and so they came up with that in order to cover her large baby bump with as many blankets as possible. Plus, she's a stubborn little mule who persists on doing her own stunts. Bad for her, though, she can't run around in heels while firing fake guns. Doctor's orders.

Well, I suppose that's one way to beat Russian mafia...

"Please don't talk to me about food!" Astris cries out. "I actually kept craving French fries with melted cheese and bacon all night long! God, I can't wait for brunch to start!"

"Well I'm afraid you must wait a little while!"

That is the absolute Oceanides Christmas tradition. Every morning, at eleven o'clock sharp, Grandma and Grandpa host a lavish pajama party for all their kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids. It's actually the perfect opportunity to get rid of the leftovers from the night before. It's nine o'clock in Britain right now and everyone is asleep, so she must wait a while more. Every Christmas morning, Grandma and Grandpa host their descendants to a lavish feast where they are served... the leftovers from Christmas Eve dinner. Picture it: all the Greek foods you can imagine. On bagels. And coffee. And wine. Plus fruits, Greek yogurt, cereal, jam... Astris and I once created our own unique recipe: a bagel covered with a reheated roasted lamb that's been marinated overnight and topped with vine leaves, fried feta cheese and lots of Greek olive oil. It was the best thing I've ever eaten. But I was a drunk, weird teenager, so I might be a bit biased there.

Great. If cravings are contagious, I think I just got one myself.

"Being pregnant in this family is hell, honestly," she adds. "All the women are bombarding me with advice, everyone wants to touch my belly, and my feet are so damn swollen that I can't run away if I wanted to!"

The youngest baby in the family is actually three years old. But my maternal family loves tiny little people so much that they'll stop at nothing to make sure that they stay out of harm's way. In short, Astris is in trouble. Her hormones are driving her crazy, everyone keeps saying how they know best, and her husband is torn between siding with his in-laws and defending his wife's sanity.

Thinking about it, if I had kept the baby, Astris would have gotten some of that much-needed peace and quiet she deserves. You bet that everyone will paying a lot more attention to the future King or Queen of the Hellenes than they would to yet another random Oceanides baby. No, contrary to common belief, we do not make a collection of those. We just happen to pop them out.

Still, I can't help but tease her some more. "You honestly are such a great actress, Star! For a moment there I thought that you really hated all the attention!"

"Oh, look who's talking!" she says sarcastically. "The future Queen of the Hellenes, in more ways than one!"

"Shut up!" I laugh. "You might get an Oscar!"

"Might?!"

"Girls, please!" Mother lets out. We're on speakerphone so that she could join the conversation too. She has been grinning at our bickering instead, spoiling Blanche, who rests her head on her lap, with all the pets she could give her. (Little wonder then that my own dog downright avoids me when "grandmaw" is around.) Leaning forward so that she can be heard better, she asks: "Astris, honey, are you still in London?"

"No, we're in Stansworth actually. Grandpa decided the day after you left that London was too noisy for him."

OK, my sincerest apologies, but here comes another lecture. I'll keep it short though, I promise. So, Stansworth Hall is my grandparents' 25,000-acre estate in Surrey. It consists of a Palladian 18th-century country manor which could be a palace in its own right, with various farms scattered all around it, and a nature reserve with reindeer running around wild and free. It's rather like a smaller, British, and more opulent version of Tatoi. Believe it or not, Stansworth Manor makes Tatoi Palace look like a real farmhouse in comparison. Grandpa bought it back in the 1970s, when the family started to expand and they needed as much space for the grandkids as possible. I think they did get their money's worth. The mansion is so big, in fact, that we were actually allowed to ride a bike along its long corridors to get from one room to another! Until we turned twelve. Then we were not allowed to it anymore.

(For the record, I attempted to do so in the Royal Palace too, only to end up getting scolded by Peacock for being unladylike.)

"Does that mean that the treasure hunting game is postponed?" Mother asks. Blanche howls, begging for her attention. As a sign of utter desperation, I pat her head to show her that she can come to me, if she still likes me enough.

"We're hosting it tonight, actually. Right before the Christmas dinner. We actually spent four hours yesterday trying to figure out which rooms we were going to use!" Astris laughs. "Grandma believes that it's a great way for them to learn their way around Stansworth while they're still young."

"They might get lost."

"Oh, don't worry Aunt Dione! We'll send the dogs to find them!"

Yes, this is really happening. It's odd, I know, but it's also very effective. The kids are too young to use mobile phones, so we go old school: we hang a bell on the dogs' collars and then we send them off to the rescue. When we were little, I remember how reassuring it was to hear a bell and a bark and know that Blackie is coming to find you. One year, we actually tried to get them to use walkie-talkies, but they either lost them, broke them, or downright refused to use them. We had lots of crying and tantrums that day. So, big, loud dogs it is! Unless you're allergic. Then you're in a bit of a trouble.

Things are simpler for the grown-ups, though. Since we are allowed to use mobile phones, we do let each other know that dinner has been served by sending texts or calling and just hope that they'll see it before it's too late.

"We'll make sure to take lots of pictures and we'll email them to you as soon as possible!" Astris adds. "We have finally figured out how to connect our digital cameras and our mobile phones to our laptops, so you will get to see poor Hydaspes in his Santa costume!" Friendly reminder: that's her husband. "Froufrou, will you please remember to check your emails this time?"

"I told you! I forgot the password!"

"Yeah, right. Admit it, you're such a lazy bug!"

"Wait a-"

"How about your grandparents' question?" Mother chimes in again. "Do you know what it'll be?"

"Oh, the little ones won't find it in a million years!" Astris laughs. "Froufrou, do you remember when Grandpa used to tell us about the kalikantzaros to teach us about the festive traditions in Greece?"

Screw what I said before. Here comes another lesson.

Those are little malevolent goblins, living underground and showing up between Christmas Day and January 6th. That's when the sun completes its seasonal movement or something. According to folklore, they spend the rest of the year sawing the World Tree which supports the earth so that the world will collapse. But by the time they are about to complete the task, December 25th arises and then they show up on earth, where they cause trouble to mortals. They don't have a standard appearance, but everyone pictures them to look like animals (hairy bodies and legs of a cow, goat, or horse. They're huge or tiny, have donkey ears, and laugh like mischievous little children). Since they're also creatures of the night, they show up after midnight. I'm pretty sure that Grandpa has stuck to tradition and had a piece of colander hanged outside the main entrance of all his houses to keep the kalikantzaros away. Legend has it that they will be drawn to it, start to count all the holes in it, and stay there until sunrise. As soon as the sun rises, they have to find a dark hiding place. Until the clock strikes midnight. Then they come back for more trouble. But good for all of us, Grandma thinks that it's ridiculous and embarrassing, so the colander remained in the fridge and Grandpa tried the next best thing. It is believed that they can enter the house through the chimney too, if it has one. And guess what? My grandparents' houses do. In every single room no less. So, he had instructed that the fire remained burning all night long to keep them away. In all the fireplaces. All over the house. The next day, Grandma shouted at him that he'd burn us all down and so the poor colander was once again asked to play doorman. You'd think that'd be all. But nope. Grandpa is so dedicated to this tradition that he actually avoided intercourse with his wife between March and May, so that their kids wouldn't be born between November and December and thus not look like little goblins.

Believe it or not, Grandma Tethys actually told me so.

Just to think, this man has been praised as one of the most successful businessmen of the twentieth century.

"Oh no!" I let out. "Is it about that time we were so curious to see them that we got up at midnight and made a mess in every room because we thought they were shy and we tried to make them feel comfortable?"

"Exactly!" my cousin laughs again. "I swear, it's been twenty years and they still remember it like it was yesterday! So, anyway, the question is about how all that fun ended."

"The rest of our cousins woke up and joined the fun. Then the nannies and the staffers woke up, too, and had to tidy everything up before the grown-ups came back from that party they had gone to!"

"That was the most fun I have ever had!"

"They won't try to encourage them to repeat it, will they?"

"I think they should!"

But Mother - ever the disciplinarian - can't help commenting: "You caused six million dollars worth of damages. You destroyed rare antiques, broke china vases from Japan and Arabia, tore at the carpets, and used our lipsticks to draw on the walls." Astris and I laugh louder. Mother adds: "Good for you, your grandparents adore you. It was them who had convinced us not to punish you."

My cousin is about to share another story. But at that moment, my bodyguard ruins the fun to inform us that we are about to arrive. Well, that was very nice of him, although he didn't really have to say anything. Blanche has already grown agitated, standing up on her two back feet and staring out of the window, barking and wagging her tail at the familiar surroundings.

"And this, ladies and gentlemen, is how I'll go to hell," I whisper to Astris and she giggles. "Gotta go. Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Lollipop!" That's her special nickname for me. Don't ask. "Hold on tight! Both of you! Bye!"

"You too!" I reply. "Bye-bye!"

"Bye, dear!" Mother adds.

As soon as I hang up, Mother takes my hand and holds it tight. She's staring outside the window, trying to take it all in.

She hasn't been to Tatoi since my Investiture Ceremony eight years ago. Now the Palace lay as short distance away and in all its glory.

It looked awfully homely. The window shields were wide open, the smoke was coming out of the chimneys, the balconies were decorated with colourful lights...

The rest of my royal relatives say that it's the only place where they can truly feel comfortable. Maybe it's just me, or this phone call, or Ares... but I don't.

I read somewhere that home is not a place. It's the people. I guess that does explain why I'd rather be in Stansworth right now, with all the havoc that ensues in there.

Mother takes a deep breath.

That's it. Moment of truth. Let the show begin.

---

12:00 AM

East Drawing Room, Palace of Tatoi

Demeter almost dropped the phone upon the mention of that name.

"Dione?!" she asked. "How? D-did Zeus invite her?"

Staring blankly at the ceiling, Hestia let out a long sigh. "I'm afraid so. Hera is not very pleased as you can imagine."

Demeter tangled her fingers in the cord. She could suspect that her sudden arrival to Greece was associated with the mysterious Mr. Petalas. The discussion she had had with Aphrodite on Hera's birthday gala was still troubling her. In fact, were she more willing to be a gossip, she wouldn't have hesitated to ask straight out. But she knew how her older sister felt about it.

"C-could Aphrodite have something to do with it?"

Hestia pursed her lips. "This might be a private matter between Zeus, Dione, and Aphrodite. We would be fools to believe that we should mingle."

Demeter let out a long sigh. How typical of her sister to reply in such a way! But then again, she would have done so as well. As long as her niece hadn't asked her all those questions, at least.

"You should see Mother though!" her sister replied, fixing her hair. "Her face truly lit up when she found out Dione would be joining us!"

"Well, I don't know why I'm surprised. She's always treated her like her own daughter. Especially after the divorce!"

A man's voice was suddenly heard in the background, muttering things that seemed to have no meaning at all. At least to Hestia. Demeter did speak her husband's language. She replied to him in Danish and before Hestia knew it, she was listening to a calm yet incomprehensible exchange between the two spouses. Even though Demeter had been a Danish citizen for decades, Hestia still couldn't get used to her little sister speaking such an odd language. It was so, so different from Greek that it was wonderful to think that they were both being spoken in the world today.

"I have to go," Demeter eventually said. "There is a bunch of people right underneath our balcony, begging to get waved at!"

Hestia chuckled. The first time she and Demeter had visited Denmark (while their father was planning to get one of them married off to the Crown Prince), they had both been impressed by how close Amalienborg Castle had been to the rest of Copenhagen. It didn't even have a garden or a fence to create some distance between them and the rest of the world! Citizens and tourists alike could just pass through the small square that counted as the yard, acting like it was perfectly normal of them to be near their royal family! Demeter may have been too self-conscious about it at the early years of her married life but nowadays, she didn't seem to care.

"I will call you as soon as things calm down, so that you can also talk to the rest!" Hestia replied. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas! Make sure you do have fun!" Demeter wished too, before hanging up.

As soon as she set the receiver down, Hestia took a few minutes to think. Try as she might, she couldn't fathom what had gotten into her youngest brother. Zeus' thoughts and motives had always been quite the enigma, mostly because he liked to keep them to himself. But this time, he was downright stupid.

The clouds between him and Hera had obviously been lifted. Yet he was willing to juggle it all yet again. And for what? That's what Hestia couldn't figure out, much as she had told Demeter that she wasn't dying to find out.

While Hera was staying in Corfu, she had gotten drunk one night and confessed that she had never hated another woman as much as Dione. She believed that Zeus still hadn't freed himself from her "accursed spell" as she had put it. As if there had been some kind of "unfinished business" between them that was long overdue. Puzzled, Hestia had tried to convince her that it was impossible and that she had simply been fooling herself.

For a moment, she thought whether forcing Hera to endure his ex-wife's presence all day long was a way for Zeus to punish his wife. But still - for what? She shrugged her shoulders. Personally, she didn't really mind Dione. Guiltily enough, she was even content to see her. Plus, the mere mention of her name had brought a smile to Rhea's lips, which she and Amphitrite had been trying to do since she had arrived in Athens. Besides, Hestia had also liked her a lot back in the day. Despite the hailstorm that her fame and family name had brought onto the Royal Family, she had had the decency to remain discreet in the years following the divorce. It was that refusal of hers to talk publicly about her time as Crown Princess of Greece that had earned her Hestia's uttermost respect.

Plus, she had come all the way from New York (or wherever it was that her family spent the holidays anyway) because she worried about her daughter. Didn't that prove how much she loved her daughter?

Nevertheless, she didn't know whether or not she should be happy to see her. At the end of the day, Hera was still the Queen and they were her husband's minions. But she couldn't accuse Aphrodite for ruining the day. Judging by the mess that the last few days had been, could she really blame her for needing her mother's support? Both Hestia and Demeter also turned to Rhea for advice and support, even though they were approaching old age themselves. That was how they had made amends for all the years they had been forced to spend apart.

Zeus and Hera had been the last ones to arrive, entering the Palace twenty minutes after Dione and Aphrodite. Instinctively, Amphitrite and Hestia had taken to playing the hostess, trying to make the situation as less awkward as possible.

Easier said than done.

The King and the Queen had obviously had a fight. Since the church service, they had been avoiding to talk to or look at one another if they could help it. Being masters in their craft, they had put on a show whilst in public. But now they were among family. There was no need to pretend among people who knew them a little too well.

They weren't the only ones. Ares and Aphrodite, too, acted rather strangely towards each other. Her niece looked cheerful, even joking with her uncles and teasing her little cousins. (This was, after all, the first Christmas she'd spend with both her birth parents in years). Yet, despite all that, her expressive eyes were filled with sadness and she sometimes was caught off guard, which she blamed on a lack of sleep. Hestia believed her. She did look rather exhausted. Ares, on the other hand, was bored, angry, impatient, and stank of cigarettes. Hera had blamed it on another fight that they might have had. Probably. After all, those two were holding each other's hands one day and were biting through each other's flesh the next. Amphitrite had advised her not to mind them. "The less you know, the better," she had said. At the end of the day, it was still a private matter and they still just their aunts.

When it came to Hera and Zeus, however, different rules applied. Amphitrite had convinced Hera to join her for a stroll in the gardens and they were currently outside, probably discussing various random topics until Hera felt confident enough to open up to her confidante. Amphitrite had a talent for calming down rough seas. That was probably how she had managed to remain married to Poseidon for so long. As for Zeus, he preferred to get some work done. He was currently locked in his office, going through the governmental documents that had arrived in Tatoi early the same morning.

"Spending some time alone would do him good," Rhea suggested a while later. A while after Hestia had finished the phone call, Hades had entered the drawing room to tell her that their mother wished to go trekking. He had also warned her to wear comfortable shoes. "I don't know about you, but Mother's so fit that she makes me look like an eighty-year-old!" he had joked.

As she was buttoning up her coat, Rhea added: "But how wonderful it is that Dione hasn't changed at all!"

"Shall we get a move on now?" Hades asked impatiently. He had grown sick and tired of hearing his mother gushing over Dione for the thousandth time today. If she mentioned her name again during their walk, he'd have to find an excuse to remain a few steps behind. He had no idea how Hestia could do it. She had the patience of a saint. Well, then. To remain true to the analogy, he'd have to be the devil in comparison.

"Where is Poseidon?" Rhea added, putting on her gloves.

"He's on the back yard with Ares," Hestia replied, adjusting her hat. "They're smoking."

Rhea shook her head. "What a terrible habit to have!"

Hades and Hestia exchanged looks of understanding and guilt. When it came to it, none of the siblings were as innocent as their mother believed. Hestia had joined the club in her early fifties, after Poseidon had convinced her to try it as a joke. But she never smoked more than three cigarettes a month. It was strict limit she had put on herself to keep the habit from becoming an addiction. (Although, when Hera was staying in Corfu, she did loosen that strict rule a bit to deal with her capricious sister-in-law.) As for Hades, he couldn't resist his favourite Cuban cigars - provided that his family wasn't around, of course. Since he had discovered that his brothers would steal some from the box, he kept them locked in his study. It'd be easier to convince those grown-up mulls that he had cut it down altogether than to accuse them of being sneaky. Zeus, too, had a particular love for those, although Hera - ever the loving wife - kept making sure they were as far away from her husband's reach as possible. She must have been following the same method when it came to other women too. That's why Zeus couldn't have enough of either. Last but not least, there was Demeter, the black sheep, the only one who had quit successfully. But then again, she never was a real smoker to begin with. She preferred to smoke oregano as a substitute which led her brothers to nickname her "the weed".

"Shall we?" Hestia said, pointing to the side entrance. They loved using that one, for it gave them direct access to the forest. The double doors of the main entrance, however, other than remaining locked most of the time, led directly to the swimming pool and the tennis court.

In the meantime, and while everyone else were keeping themselves busy with horse riding, playing tennis, or just trying to keep busy anyway, Poseidon was doing his wife's favour. He was determined to figure out what on earth was wrong with his nephew, so that she would stop worrying at last. Convincing Ares to join him hadn't been difficult. After all, a man-to-man talk never did any harm. It'd also do him good to get away from Aphrodite for a while. Whatever happened between them this time, it seemed pretty intense.

The night before, at the Christmas Eve gala, Poseidon had noticed Ares approaching Aphrodite in a corner of the crowded ball room. After whispering something in her ear, she had left the room and he had followed suit a few moments later. Some minutes later, Ares had stepped back into the ballroom looking like he had urgently needed to break something. Aphrodite had joined him afterwards. Her eyes had been red from crying but her makeup had looked impeccable - as always. Poseidon wouldn't have noticed that detail though hadn't Amphitrite told him. After all, women always noticed such things.

"Son, there are two ways to win a lady's heart," he said exhaling the smoke. "One is to make her believe she is the only woman in the world. The other is to prove to her that she is not."

Ares ran his polished shoe over the white pebbles, his eyes glued to the ground. He took another drag. "You know, Uncle, some of them think that the whole world revolves around them. It's hard to convince them otherwise."

Poseidon rested his right hand on his nephew's shoulder. "Listen to someone with plenty of experience in the field. Everyone makes mistakes. But only real men try to correct them and to learn from them."

His nephew was getting uncomfortable. "How do you know I have some woman trouble anyway?"

"It's written all over your face," Poseidon teased, resting his hand on Ares' shoulder. "You look like you'd erase the entirety of the female species if you could. Trust your old man, buddy. We've all been there."

"I'd be just happy if I could make just her disappear."

Poseidon tapped the burnt smoke to the ground. "Is she seeing someone else?"

"Sort of," Ares said leaning his head back and exhaling the smoke. "But it's more complicated than that."

"Aha. Go on."

Ares hesitated. He didn't want his uncle to find out Aphrodite's secret. Yet, he needed a piece of advice or two. Throwing his burnt cigarette to the ground, he asked: "What would you do if you found out that aunt Amphitrite had done something terrible behind your back? Something that concerned both of you?"

"Such as?"

"Committed an abortion, so to speak."

Poseidon flinched. Could it really be possible? That he and Aphrodite... Together... "She'd never do such a thing!"

"Hypothetically speaking."

Poseidon sighed. "Well, she obviously had her reasons. Women are the greatest enigma men ever had to solve. We'll never be able to figure out what they're thinking or why they act they way they do."

The look on Ares' face revealed that it hadn't been the reply he had been expecting. Especially from a man like his uncle.

"Is that it, then?" Poseidon furthered. "Did you get her pregnant?"

Ares preferred not to give a straight answer. "She told me straight out that she wasn't planning on telling me."

His uncle shrugged his shoulders. "She might have done it to protect you." Ares scoffed. Poseidon added: "Here's the thing. We should never tell women what to do with their bodies. Imagine a world where women have full control over men's bodies or believe they are entitled to it. How would that make you feel?"

"But the baby was also my own."

Poseidon sighed. "As long as it's in the womb, it's the woman's and the woman's alone. Its life literally depends upon her. Just think about it. They have to share the same body for nine months. That's almost a year. It's a long time." Ares lowered his gaze to contemplate his uncle's words. Poseidon furthered: "Men have a different approach to parenthood. Me, for instance. When Amphitrite was pregnant with Triton, I kept reminding myself that I was going to be a father. I realized it only after I held him in my hands for the first time. But reality sank in much later. Triton was two years old. We were in the park and something happened. He ran up to me with open arms, calling 'Dada, dada, dada'." He clapped his hands once. "That was it."

"So what do you suggest?"

"Apologize. If you admit that you've made a mistake, she'll try and forgive you. But, she might also not. You'll never know unless you try."

Ares remained silent. Looking at cigarette he squashed to the ground, he tried to picture that moment. Aphrodite would laugh at his face. Worse even, she'd try to ridicule him to her heart's desire, proving him all the more that she had been on the right side all along. He did not want to endure that humiliation. But thinking about it, his uncle wouldn't have won Amphitrite back if he had not knelt and cried, begging her to come back.

No. They were different. It was impossible to compare them to each other. Amphitrite was sweet and kind. Her husband and children meant the world to her. Aphrodite had no idea how to love. She always drew men to her like moths to the flame. Then she stood back and watched as they burned from the passion she had ignited in them.

There must be another way to win her back. But in less than forty-eight hours, he'd have to return to the base. Whatever it was that he had to do, he'd have to rush.

Still, he had one last question. "What if she doesn't want to talk to me?"

It was his uncle's turn to throw the burnt cigarette to the ground. "You'll move on. Remember, there's plenty of fish in the sea and you're still young. But! Don't let her go without a fight. Especially if there's another man involved."

Poseidon gave Ares another pat on the shoulder. Casting him a reassuring smile, he stepped back inside, to the warm Palace. He could feel his stomach growl and was already craving the stuffing. Much to his annoyance, though, lunch wouldn't be served for at least another hour. If they had been at home in Porto Heli, he'd have asked Amphitrite to fix him a ham and cheese sandwich, just to hear her complain that he was old enough to make it himself. And then, once she'd have sent him into the kitchen, she'd ask one for herself as well.

Oh, the joys of married life!

Alone at last, Ares was trying to come up with a plan. Staring the day after tomorrow, he and Aphrodite would be miles away. He couldn't be able stationed at the base, far away from her reach. But perhaps it was better that way.

Staring at the trees ahead, he put his hands in his pockets and went for a walk. Five minutes later, when he was deep into the woods, it hit him.

If there was one thing Aphrodite resented, it was feeling ignored. He could recall many incidents in which people had to face her wrath for treating her like the least important person in the room. Her pathological sense of entitlement had gotten her in trouble so many times, but despite all the scolding, yelling, and additional backlash that she had received for it, it still remained that one aspect of her personality she cherished the most. Ares could still recall her piercing childish scream when, growing up, he and his siblings would ignore her for something more interesting. If it was a toy, she'd either destroy it or hide it. If it was another kid, she'd hit them right in the face. It didn't matter whether it was a staffer's child or her own half-sibling; they had to pay for turning their backs to her. But since becoming an adult, she no longer pulled off such desperate acts to draw all the attention. She relied on her looks instead. Her fancy yet eccentric outfits made her a fashion icon and her gorgeous hair had always been compared to that of a fairy. Add to the mix her title, her background, and the world's fascination with her mother and her brief marriage to Zeus, and you got the textbook definition of the perfect modern princess.

A recipe for disaster, really.

For she was worshiped like a goddess.

His uncle had been right. He would win her back by proving to her how she wasn't the only woman on earth. In fact, he'd hit her right at her most sensitive spot.

Her vanity.

He'd force her to feel insignificant, irrelevant even. Then she'd kneel before him, begging for forgiveness. He'd spare himself that kind of humiliation. But he wouldn't apologize just yet. She'd have to fight for it.

If she wanted to play dirty, then so be it. He could abuse his right to add his own rules to the game.

He ought to hold on tight. Things were about to get heated.

---

01:00 PM

Dining Room

OK, so, here's a very long and detailed description of our lunch because my life is still an awful mess and I need to avoid eye contact with Ares because Peacock is right here and I don't want her to kill me just yet.

Please remind me in fifty years to use that as the title to my tell-all autobiography.

Yes, I know it's too long for the front cover. It could have some of the back too. If people still read books by 2056 that is.

Actually, wait. Ares is also puling off the 'Avoid At All Costs' trick. There he is, by the other side of the table, staring down on his phone from under the table and probably playing Snake or something.

Nothing about him surprises me anymore.

Mother, as is befitting the guest of honour, is sitting next to Zeus Almighty. But with Hera right across from him, there's not much they can talk about. So, they're acting like five-year-olds who have just been punished, staring down on their plate and avoiding each other as much as possible. Still, she occasionally gives me worried looks and I have to pretend I'm all right so that she can enjoy herself a little. Or try to at least. Grandmother does look cheerful, though, which is a very nice change. She is sitting next to Hera and she's trying to keep her occupied by sharing various funny stories with her. Meanwhile, Prince Hades is cracking jokes with Princesses Hestia and Amphitrite, both women burst out laughing, and Prince Poseidon takes his wife's hand possessively, in case she forgot who her real husband is.

Oh, isn't that lovely? Look at him, playing the jealous husband...

Whatever.

So, let's start from the decoration, shall we?

For better or worse, Hera is still the hostess. So, what we get is practically a miniature gala. I won't go into much detail again because it'll take forever. But still. The seating plan, the name tags, and the small menu are still there. (Need I say that they're both written in French instead of Greek? But it shouldn't come as a surprise. That's Hera hosting the party.) Same for our good old friends, the awful lot of china dishes and cutlery with our Coat of Arms engraved on them. The table is covered with an ivory tablecloth with matching embroidered flower details on them. Two strands of red tulle ribbon are the fanciest decorative. They are position right in the middle, forming a zigzag between the three large silver vases on either side and right in the middle, as well as for the two candlesticks that are also made of silver and which were placed between each vase. The flowers are not as fancy as the ones on Peacock's birthday. We keep things simple this time with a lovely combination of jasmine, lavender, and various other wild flowers which have been gathered from all around the farm.

What's more... There's a big and heavy mahogany buffet taking up the whole length of the wall right behind me. On it, there are various dishes with traditional Greek Christmas delicacies, which we will be served after lunch (and no, poor Hebe can't touch them, much to her disappointment.) There is also a bottle of expensive whiskey on top of it, which Zeus Almighty will serve to the Head Chef when he comes in from that door to the side leading to the tunnel that leads to the kitchens. That's the small, smelly house right next to the Palace. Anyway, the drink thing is a tradition and a way to thank the chef for the lovely meal he's prepared. The current one is as old as Thunder, so the two men can crack a joke, tease each other on their workloads, and congratulate themselves for putting up with everyone and everything in their respective realms. Then they raise their glasses, wishing each other a Merry Christmas, take a sip or two, and go back to their respective worlds. Needless to say, it's our Head Chef's favourite Christmas tradition.

Back to the decoration. The walls are decorated with various landscape paintings which, as you can guess, are all by Greek artists and they are all depict various areas of Greece. But, contrary to those at the Royal Palace, they're not donations from museums, but we actually own these ones. Still, we can't remove them from here or chaos will ensue. The dining table and its matching, detailed and uncomfortable chairs are also made of mahogany and can seat up to twenty people. Well, there's only ten of us in here, so half the chairs have been removed to give us more free space.

Thank goodness.

Well, since I don't feel like socializing and Athena is sitting right across from me and next to Ares, I guess it's time for me to describe the food.

Hold on tight for this is going to get wild.

Before we begin, I have a question. How many of you eat the same Christmas meal every single year? I knew it. Well, I've got some happy news for you. We're easy to identify with. I swear I've grown sick and tired of the same old turkey and all that stuffing.

Maybe I should just do it like Queen Demeter and become a vegetarian. She doesn't look like one, for she has a rather full figure, but she is. I swear, she has the slimmest waist out of every middle-aged woman I've ever met.

Anyway.

So, food time. First things first, though, let's start from the drinks. The adult guests can only be served wine as far as alcohol goes and they can choose amongst a variety of Greek red wines. (Greece has always produced fine wine, but no one knows that because the French somehow have convinced the world that they're better. But we're slowly catching up with them.) As a matter of fact, I could count them down, but they have very long names and each region produces different variations, so we'll take forever. It'll just suffice to say, though, that there is one kind of wine from each region of Greece so, in short, most of us are tipsy by the time lunch is over.

Which is great if you're coping with a breakup. So I guess I know what I'll be doing for the next hour or two.

Other than all these red wines, though, there's also a variation of sorts, called krasomelo which translates, literally, to "honeyed wine". It's basically sweet or semi-sweet red wine with a few spoonfuls of Greek honey, spiced up with cinnamon, cloves, peppercorn, cardamom, and nutmeg. It's basically magic in a glass and here's why: you have to drink it warm, which intensifies its aroma. We produce it at Tatoi too, bottle it, and stick a tag with a small sketch of the Palace of Tatoi, the crown next to it, and the words ΚΤΗΜΑ ΤΑΤΟΪΟΥ [TATOI ESTATE] underneath. (Needless to say that we have our very own vineyard somewhere in here). That's why I'm playing the wine expert. I'll own the damn place one day and our wine has won various international awards. But you can find it only to a few supermarkets, because we're a farm, not a factory. Do look out for it next time you're in Greece. You'll do us a favour now that Zeus Almighty is very much broke.

Rest assured though that the Royal Family is drinking a rather different wine from the one we're selling. That's because our wine maker also loves to add a few drops of orange juice to the mix that is reversed for us. He also marks it with a red dot, so that the distributors won't accidentally pack it along with the rest of the bunch.

That would've been a disaster, wouldn't it?

Alright, so things are about to get interesting. Let's start from the starters. Once the butler has filled the glasses of all the grown-ups with alcohol and those of the little ones with water or a Cola, the footmen proceed to do the rounds. Serving here takes a while longer because each guy holds a platter and they serve as they go instead of gather the plates to fill them in the kitchens. Very briefly, there is a selection of sauces and spreads from different regions of the country. There's tzatziki, made of yogurt, garlic, and cucumber slices. It's one of our most famous dips, so if you haven't heard about it, you're probably living under a rock. Then we have skordalia (basically garlic mashed potatoes which has a creamy taste and doesn't taste like garlic an awful lot), olive spread (I don't think I need to describe what it is in detail because it's basically what its name says. So let me just say instead that it's great for canapés), tahini lemon sauce (that actually is a favourite in Cyprus too. It's like humus, only sweeter and not as thick, so it's a bit of a pain when you want to spread it on a piece of bread and wear a designer gown at the same time, but I manage). Finally, we have some roasted garlic spread, which is basically garlic butter with a Greek twist: you can actually taste the garlic. Plus, each guest is served their very own hot pita bread or just a plain old boring slice of traditional Greek bread (again, they can choose). I know, it sounds like our breaths smell terrible when its over, but the breads help it suffice a little. That's why we always make such a fuss over it.

Thirty minutes filled with chatter, laughs, and endless attempts to avoid eye contact with the wrong people go by. The happiest people in here are Hebe and Rhode, who make sure to enjoy the joy of playing with your food while it lasts. But the food has to stay in their plates at all times. Or else the Queen will have to play the disciplinarian and you don't want that to happen. Poor Triton, though. He had to wear a tie and act more like a grown up than a teenager, but now he bears a frightening resemblance to his father. Hopefully, that's where the similarities will end.

Suddenly, the footmen rush in from the tunnel again, to remove the dirty dishes, bring on the bowls, and serve the first main dish. We're having an avgolemono chicken soup, which is basically the most underrated Greek dish ever. It's a rice soup with lemon juice, eggs, and pieces of boiled chicken. Traditionally, it's served after the Christmas Eve church service at night, but we love having it on Christmas day as well. All the kids love it, too. Hebe actually claps her hands from joy every time she sees it. It's a light meal too, so it can also work as a starter in my view.

At least that's how Grandma Tethys and Mother are serving it when they're entertaining at home.

Once more, there's the usual murmur from the discussions and don't slurp your soup please, for that is very, very rude. (I actually believe that the only way to find out whether someone is truly well-mannered is by whether or not they slurp. I should try that with Hephaestus one day.) I'm spending most of my time just talking with Eileithyia. We've been discussing our favourite films for the past hour or two. She's basically my cinema buddy. We love sneaking into the theatres incognito and enjoy a couple of peaceful hours away from the madness that is our relatives. We both loved the latest movie on Marie Antoinette.

"I agree," the footman behind us says.

Eileithyia jumps up, I laugh, and he proceeds to serve us a piece of roasted lamb. They're saving the turkey and the staffing for dinner. Its absorbing aromas of thyme, rosemary and oregano fill the room. Same for the potatoes. I love how they taste of olive oil!

"It's spent five hours in the wood oven," he explains. "The kitchen will smell for days!"

The staff don't dare engage in a chitchat with Their Majesties, but I beg to differ. Someone once joked to me that, once I am Queen, the staff will feel far more comfortable in here. Well, that's the goal. Give me the throne and I'll erase everything that Hera has done all these years.

Yes, including the decoration. It's awful.

Somehow, at long last, dessert is served. So far, Mother and Father deserve a golden star for being such well-behaved children and for not talking to each other for as long as possible. Peacock is still mad, Ares goes on pretending I don't exist, Athena is Athena, Prince Poseidon is still jealous of his older brother and talks to his son instead, his wife gossips with her sister-in-law, and Prince Hades is staring at his watch, waiting for this torture that is eating to end.

I bring my newly refilled glass of wine to my lips, but Eileithyia pushes it back.

"Enough!" she says. "You've already gulped down six of them!"

Well I can't fight it, can I?

But Ares does look at me for once. Just for a few seconds. Then he goes on teasing Triton again for all I care.

What? Oh, sorry, silly me. Maybe I am a little tipsy after all. But just a little!

So, we're not having chocolate pie this year. Actually, we never do. What we have is called a karidopita. This is a walnut cake with syrup made of honey and sugar. It does look like a chocolate cake, except that it's sweeter, fluffier, and smells of cinnamon and clove. But, in my defense, it's served with vanilla ice cream and barely enough chocolate syrup to make the flavours blend better.

Now, it looks like it has nothing to do with Christmas and that it's a year-round kind of food. You're right. But there is a nice symbolism behind it, which makes it just perfect for this time of the year. In the Ionian islands, walnuts represent happiness. So, this cake is a symbolism of you sharing your bliss and prosperity with your friends. That, in short, captures the very essence of being Greek.

Sadly, this feeling of sharing out of goodwill seems to have gone lost these days. But here's hoping it'll come back one day.

There. Now I've made my Christmas wish.

And so, lunch comes to a close with - guess what - more sweets! The footmen remove the silver platters from the buffet and carry them towards us. This is the part where we're allowed to get our hands dirty because you can't eat them otherwise. (You may try it if you want, but you'll only make a fool of yourself.) So, we have: kourabiedes, melomakarona, and - my personal favourite - diples.

Try to pronounce them correctly and I'll give you a medal and a knighthood. I mean it!

So, kourabiedes are the Christmas delicacy for many people. They're famous in Greece, Cyprus, and the Greek diaspora all over the world. Some American friends say it reminds them of shortbread, but there are almonds in it. Lots of them. It's basically the signature ingredient. As is the huge amount of butter used, flour, vanilla, and the some Greek brandy for flavouring. (Grandma Tethys prefers to add syrup made of red roses instead, honouring her Cypriot roots. I should mention that she bakes them herself. As does Mother. And all of my aunts. And Astris. I'm just the useless one who can't even crack an egg). The kourabiedes are not just served during the holiday season, though. Since they're covered in icing sugar, they're also served at weddings or christenings because they're white and white represents happiness too. In that case, they go by their alternative name: Greek Wedding Cookies.

Actually, this is widespread in Cypriot weddings, too. Except that they call it plainly "wedding cookies" in that case.

The melomakarona, now, are an egg-shaped delicacy which tastes like olive oil, honey, and - guess what - walnuts. This is served only on Christmas, though, and they're not as interesting as the kourabiedes but still, they're pretty awesome.

Last but not least, here come the diples. They're a traditional dessert from the Peloponnese, resemble another delicacy called "angel wings", and they're also dipped in a sugar and honey syrup. Like the kourabiedes, they, too, can be served at weddings too but they're also a favourite during the holiday season too. Once again, they're covered in cinnamon and walnuts.

Lesson learned today: we love honey and walnuts. A lot.

In our case, these sweets are served with coffee and seasonal fruits. But, as you can guess, the sweets are much more preferable than oranges and tangerines.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how we spend our Christmases. The minute Zeus Almighty sets down his fork and gets up, we have to follow his lead. It doesn't matter whether we have finished eating or not. He's the leader, we're the pack. We go where he goes.

Upstairs it is, to brush our teeth and change into something more comfortable because the day is only halfway through and we still haven't greeted the people in the farm.

I guess I should feel glad about it. It'll be easier to avoid Ares altogether in an open space full of people.

Oh boy, the day is just going to drag on forever...

---

03:00 PM

Tatoi Village, wider estate of Tatoi

The oblong tables had already been set and adorned with red nylon tablecloths. The oval silver platters full of kourabiedes, melomakarona, and diples looked tempting enough to touch and the red honeyed wine in the barrels smelled too good to resist.

Despite some thick clouds gathering overhead, no one was worried that it might rain. They had checked all the weather broadcasts beforehand. It wouldn't be stormy this year, unlike the previous one. No one wanted to host this small party inside the various surrounding buildings. It took away the sense of unity and the team spirit.

For most of the staff at Tatoi, this was their favourite Christmas tradition. And what a joy it was that journalists were kept away and so the public had no idea about it! The Royal Family would join them, dressed as casually as possible, for an hour of chatting, joking, laughing, and drinking. To some newcomers, the sight of the Queen and the Crown Princess in blue jeans and near cows, goats, sheep, and guard dogs may seem odd and out of place, but soon they'd get used to it too.

Like every year, the King permitted each staffer to bring up to five members of their extended families with them just for the celebration. As always, it made quite the buzzing audience. Despite it being a holiday, many relatives took the unique chance to see the Royal Family up close. But, due to security, they had to be thoroughly checked and to be given 'Visitor' tags which they wore around their necks. Nevertheless, it was easy to tell the first-time visitors from the 'experienced' ones. The latter had only come bearing their cameras and IDs, were more familiar with the surroundings, and did not hesitate to joke with the royals.

It was refreshing to see the country's most famous family so relaxed and at ease with the crowd. There were no ropes or rack barricades to keep the "commoners" at a distance. So, the royals didn't have to put on a show either - or if they did, they played their parts well. But for those who had known Zeus since his youth, they could tell that there was a small tension between Their Majesties again and they interpreted Hera constantly holding Zeus' hand like a lovestruck teenager as a way for her to keep him out of the danger that was Dione's charm. She had joined them, too, even if just for a little while and mostly by her daughter's side. She had a spotted a few familiar faces amidst the crowd and she immediately proceeded to shake hands with them and ask them how they were. To everyone in attendance, her presence felt like they had somehow ended up with a golden ticket. Dione Oceanides was known to be a very private person who rarely, if ever, gave interviews in Greece. Like her daughter, though, she, too, was the star of every show.

The Crown Princess had put aside her designer outfits for once and was now in cowgirl boots, a pair of blue jeans, and a plaid red shirt with a thick black jacket on top. She also ate a lot. Much more than usual. Her paper plate was always filled and she didn't care that she had gotten her fingers filled with melted honey or with powdered sugar. Most people blamed it on her mother's presence. They could imagine it was a big deal for her to spend Christmas with both her parents, perhaps for the first time in her life. However, some couldn't help speculating on the reason for Dione's travel. Surely it wasn't just because her daughter asked her to?

Amphitrite was also one of these people. Since Dione had first stepped foot into the Palace, she had had a funny feeling about her. But she couldn't tell Hera, not today. She wouldn't like to throw fuel into the fire for nothing.

Suddenly, a big, loud guffaw made all heads turn. Poseidon was laughing at the Chief Electrician's dirty joke, which Amphitrite had not paid even the slightest attention to. As he prepared to tell another, he handed out two dhiples in napkins - one for each. Poseidon took a large bite immediately but Amphitrite had had enough of eating. She turned her attention elsewhere.

Ares was passing them by, arms crossed on his back. He was looking at all the makeshift counters absentmindedly, like a visitor who had come at an open-air market without any money. The staffers, ever so kind, were greeting him and asking him if he'd like anything, but his hands remained empty. However, he was always in a short distance from Aphrodite, as if he had suddenly become her bodyguard. Aphrodite was at least trying to appear cheerful, holding Hebe's hand, showing her around, and taking everything that the villagers offered her.

Much as she hated to draw her own conclusions based on mere suspicions, Amphitrite couldn't help noticing that Aphrodite was eating a lot more than usual. Not only had she eaten everything during lunch but she was also currently enjoying all the delicacies and the wine she could get. Amphitrite had known her niece-in-law for long enough to know when she was nervous or upset. After all, as is befitting of a family, Poseidon ate a lot when he was nervous as well. When Ares approached Aphrodite, however, and did accept the yogurt with honey and walnuts that he had been offered, Aphrodite walked off. She had even held Hebe's hand so forcefully that the poor girl almost threw her own jar to the ground. Despite her baby sister's complaints, though, Aphrodite proceeded to move on to the next counter - and stand right next to Athena.

Amphitrite knew both Ares and Aphrodite well enough to figure out when they had a fight. Relieved as she was at the prospect of them breaking up - if they had ever had anything going on that is -, she also knew that Aphrodite's behaviour was only making Ares all the angrier. She had no idea what Poseidon had told Ares exactly but, by the look of it, he'd have to talk to him again.

If only he would stop making those dreadful jokes! "What's the one secret spot all kings must hit during intercourse? The hole in the sheet!"

The electrician and a few other curious (male) spectators burst out laughing. For Amphitrite, that was the cue to make her husband stop. While he was reassuring everyone that they wouldn't lose their jobs for enjoying a good funny stunt, Amphitrite pinched his arm and, apologizing to everyone, told them that they had to move on.

"There now, Pearl!" Poseidon complained once they were out of earshot. "Where's your sense of humour?"

"Down the drain like yours apparently," Amphitrite didn't hesitate to reply. "Ares is not acting like himself today."

The Prince scoffed. He knew what had prompted that remark. But still, he refused to believe Hera's ludicrous concerns. "I spoke with him. He had a fight with that girlfriend of his. But, he's crazy about her. They'll make up. Just wait and see!"

Amphitrite nodded. With a small grin, Poseidon returned to the nasty crowd. She spotted Ares again. He was walking away now, towards the woods. As for Aphrodite, she remained in place, next to Athena but not close enough to raise suspicions that something is odd. In fact, if she hadn't let Hera's ideas get to her own head as well, she would have imagined that Aphrodite was trying to steal the spotlight from Athena instead of avoiding her own half-brother.

The worst part is that the more she wanted not to believe her sister-in-law, sadly, the more she did. Perhaps the Queen wasn't being absurd without a valid reason after all. But then again, it might just be yet another of their downfalls and they will make up in an hour or two.

Oh, why did things have to be so complicated!

---

04:00 P.M.

Private Movie Theatre

We walk down the spiraled stairs that take us to a small, dark room with an awful green carpet on the floor and which looks like it's been stuck in the 1960s. Except for two things. First, the old seats have been replaced with bigger and more comfortable ones and, second, the technology has been updated.

Ladies and gents, welcome to the first ever home cinema in all of Greece, if not in Europe. Also known as currently the biggest TV screen in all the land.

As is the case with pretty much everything in here, this room too has its own story to tell. Back to the reign of the great and fearful King Cronus, he was expected to do a significant state visit to the US and so, for the sake of fine diplomacy, the Greek founder and owner of one of the biggest movie production companies in Hollywood (which is still going strong, by the way, and no, I won't reveal its name), offered this miniature movie theatre as a 'thank-you' gift for some kind of an offer as far as we're concerned. No one actually bothers to find out the truth.

But the real question is why on earth do I have to watch Zeus Almighty's Christmas speech live, in that very room. I hated it when I was five but I downright despise it right now.

Everyone is taking their seats. Hera sits on the front row, as always, Amphitrite sits next to her, Poseidon next to his wife, and Ares next to his uncle. Mother brushes my arm gently, to show me to two empty seats next to Princess Hestia, who is sitting next to Queen Rhea who, in turn, is sitting next to Prince Hades.

And that's the story of how I ended up facing my ex/adoptive half-brother's backside for the next ten minutes and I still somehow managed to remain calm.

In all honesty, though, I don't know what's worse. Being so close to your ex that you can touch him if you want, even though you know you can't undo what's already been done? Or having to watch him talk to the people of this country, with his current wife in the room looking proudly at him, whilst you're trying to deal with your own daughter's issues?

I'm so, so sorry, Mother! Your Christmas has been horrible and it's all my fault...

Ares promptly and downright avoids me, choosing to chat with Poseidon and Amphitrite instead. They might as well be talking about the weather for all I care.

Suddenly, the room gets dark, Mother holds my hand, the giant screen comes to life, and we all pretend to hold our breaths, awaiting Zeus Almighty's Christmas broadcast. It's a tradition that all European royals and other heads of state in Christian countries have to do. It's also the most boring thing you'll ever watch all year. Niobe once perfectly summed it up when she said, "It's just a guy in a tie sitting there, talking and looking stern." This is the perfect way to describe Thunder at this moment.

So, each year, there is a different opening for it. Last year, it was an aerial view of the Royal Palace. This year, it's just a close shot of the Palace of Tatoi. Only the credits remain the same. They read, in short, "His Majesty's Christmas Message."

Then we see him, as he is currently in his office. He's sitting behind his desk, dressed in his three-piece dark suit and a matching royal blue tie, with a landscape portrait and the Christmas tree in the background, and he's looking straight at the camera. But he's cheating. He's got a teleprompter.

Still, he's broadcasting his speech live. Everything has to be perfect. But it was his idea that he does not tape it before hand. Therefore, if anything unexpected happens, it's all his fault.

He starts by wishing us all a good evening. That's how he opens all of his speeches for this occasion. It's plain, simple, kind, and - most importantly of all - politically neutral.

Then he adds: "On behalf of my family and me, I would like to wish you all a joyful Christmas. If 2005 was a year of prosperity, 2006 was a year of lessons learned. Not only has Greece continued to successfully undertake and compete in international sporting and entertainment events, but the political changes that have occurred have also helped make the country more European and modern."

You can guess what's coming. He's now giving a full report on all the major political decisions that have "modernized" the country, although he doesn't get partisan at all. He knows that, if he starts blabbering on and on about a clear political agenda, that'll be the end of him.

I mean, even I am smart enough to know that...

He furthers: "I would like now to take the opportunity and address all the Greeks who live abroad. We at home need to maintain a strong bond with our compatriots who reside in different parts of the world but whose love of Greece is stronger than the distance that separates them from their relatives back home.

"Seven months ago, the Crown Princess embarked on a colossal tour to visit as many Greek communities abroad as she could. Starting from her beloved Cyprus, a country with whom we share strong bonds of deep historical and political friendship, she then visited the Balkan countries, Italy, Central Europe, Russia, Scandinavia, West Europe before, finally, visiting Australia, Canada, and the USA.

"As she has told me on several occasions, she was impressed by the warm welcome she received from the Greek communities there. This helped reaffirm, once again, my deeply-routed belief that the Greeks of the diaspora are the greatest ambassadors of Greek values and traditions, for they still follow them religiously. Thus, they make us all one nation which is not defined by geographical boundaries.

"I speak now to all the parents whose children live abroad, either for studies or due to their career. Your children are the brilliant young minds of the future, who thrive in universities and businesses abroad. They are solid proof that Greece still has not lost its reputation that has been following us since the most ancient of times, about being a nation that thinks, creates, and innovates. One of these young people happens to be Princess Athena, whose recent path does not differ much to that most young people have followed. After her successful graduate studies in one of the world's most prestigious universities, she continues to work on behalf of Greece in our embassy in London."

Of course he'd go on and on about Athena and me, talking about us both like we're the best thing that could have ever happened to the country. Well, I may be. I'm not so sure about poor Athena sitting in the corner though. She's never been a fan of watching her father's speeches either but at least Hera lets her get away with not paying any attention to him.

Yes, I know it's weird. I don't know why she does that either. But I do expect her to scold her a lot in private. If she doesn't, I need a refund for all the times I had to endure my wicked stepmother's endless advice and concerns over "what will people say".

That's why Thunder now presents our relationship as if we're very close.

As if...

Anyway, he adds that Athena and I are meeting (or have met) with Greeks from all walks of life during our time abroad, and that they're very happy and proud because they see that the Royal Family is united. Then he says that this is is basically the role of the Greek Royal Family as well as the essence and meaning of Monarchy altogether.

You may forget about what I said earlier, about having a political agenda. Thunder just confirmed that he's a staunch monarchist.

Just in case you doubted it. Or were just wondering. Or are just downright stupid.

Pardon. I'm still not in the best of moods today.

And, heavens, Zeus Almighty's speech is just dragging on...

"However, as in every family, we, too, have faced our own challenges," he blabbers on. "The most severe of all has been the Queen's long illness. In order to get a treatment, she had to move to the milder climate of Corfu, where she successfully recovered. During her absence, however, Princesses Eris and Eileithyia resumed her duties, proving once again how Greek families work together for the best and our family is no exception.

"In this context, I am also glad to announce that Princess Athena will be returning to Greece again in a few months' time to resume her official duties. May her homecoming set an example for all the young Greeks out there, especially the ones born abroad, who debate whether starting their life anew in Greece is worth it or not."

Now he just goes on about all the major things that we have experienced in the past year. If only he knew...

On the spur of a moment, I unzip my purse. (It has been resting on my knees the whole time, just to give me an odd sense of reassurance.) My mobile phone is in there and I contemplate for a moment whether I should actually do it. If I sent Ares a text message, perhaps, explaining as much as I could within the character limit, maybe we could make up.

But I hesitate. At the end of the day, our fight and separation is not my fault. He's the one that persisted to ask all these questions and then he refused to acknowledge the truth. What was done was done. End of story.

He'll have to come to me first. Only then will I forgive him.

I keep my eyes on him throughout the broadcast. He hasn't moved an inch, like he's some sort of a statue. Instead, he remains glued to the screen, as if he doesn't want to miss any second of the "historical" and "legendary" speech of Zeus Almighty.

That's how you know he's trying to hide from the mess he's made. But at least he does dare show his face to the world. Blanche just... disappears altogether and won't show up unless you ask her straight out what she did. Then she just runs to the crime scene by herself.

I actually wish that people worked in a similar way. It could have saved everyone in here an awful lot of time and nerves.

And Thunder just blabbers on: "In conclusion, I want to thank those of you abroad who are actively involved in Hellenic clubs and organizations abroad. Your contribution with keeping the Greek spirit alive is a significant asset to our country, in particular when it comes to educating the younger generation that is born on foreign soil about Greece. I would also like to congratulate and further encourage those who have founded such clubs and who work in them voluntarily. Both the Crown Princess and Princess Athena have visited them and are associated with them through their role as patrons or ambassadors. Their own contribution underlines the very essential message: We are one people!"

Well that explains why we're at such a constant war with ourselves, then.

Sorry, that was downright stupid.

Mother lets out a deep sigh, and I am already missing my bed. I just want to curl into a ball, have lots of chocolates in tow, and watch Gilda and All About Eve on repeat. At least I'll be out of here.

I'm can't leave before dinner has finished first, though. Mother's orders.

Oh, gosh, we still have a few hours to go until then! I don't think I'm strong enough to endure this kind of a torture...

Zeus Almighty then sits up and everyone in here is glad that it's over. But we don't dare tell Hera that.

Here's what he says: "Thus I end my Christmas message," he says. "Once more, my family and I would like to wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year 2007!"

Yeah, thanks. You two.

I don't think I ever left a room faster than I am doing now.

As long as I don't smell Ares' accursed cologne anymore...

---

04:45 PM

Dining Room

Zeus' knuckles turned white. Yet, he wouldn't let go of the dining table that was already set for dinner. If he hadn't cared one bit about his presence in the room becoming known, he'd have turned over the table and to hell with the expensive china. He could feel the adrenaline rush into his bloodstream and he took a few deep breaths to calm down.

Right behind him was a heavy secret door that led to a soundproofed room. It was in there that some of the most significant decisions had been taken, from his great-grandfather signing the treaty that allied Greece with the Entente during World War One to his father inaugurating the dictatorial regime into power in 1967, in the false hopes that he'd be granted absolute political power. But for Zeus, that room was associated with a woman.

The very same woman waiting for him inside.

Some thirty years ago, he had bent centuries of royal tradition when he had convinced his father and the conservative prime minister to allow him to marry a commoner - the love of his life.

Or so he had thought at the time.

Up until then, it had been customary for the Royal Family to seek their future spouses amongst royal circles. Cronus, too, had made the right decision (the only one he'd ever take in his entire life) when he had chosen not to marry a Germanic princess following the harsh German occupation of Greece during the Second World War. The daughter of a deposed Russian Grand Duke, who had sought refuge in a nearby Greek island after the October Revolution and who had made a fortune as a captain, had been a better choice by far. From the little that was known about her, Queen Rhea had been born and raised as a Greek, yet her aristocratic background made her the perfect candidate for the consort of a monarch.

It made Dione look insignificant in comparison. Her own ancestors had been Greek Cypriot fishermen and shepherds. Somehow, her paternal great-grandparents had managed to escape poverty by immigrating to Argentina and making a fortune in shipping and oil. "At least her money can make up for it," Cronus had remarked before signing the paper that made her the bride to his youngest son. It had confirmed what Zeus had been suspecting all along. His father had been eying Dione as his golden ticket out of their relative poverty. They had the lifestyle but no assets to support it.

How ironic, Zeus thought.

Dione's ascent to royalty had gone more smoothly than the Royal Court had predicted. Outwardly, she was the perfect princess. She had definitely grown up as one. Born in Cyprus but raised largely in England and France, she had attended private schools in Switzerland and the U.S.. Growing up, she had learned how to mingle with the most powerful people in the world by watching her parents entertain them at their house. Yet, despite their country of residence or their British citizenship, the Oceanides family had been widely admired and respected in both Greece and Cyprus for their intense love of their home countries. Their countless contributions varied from funding universities and hospitals to registering their enormous fleet under the Greek and Cypriot flags, making them a prestigious maritime power. The Greeks had been willing to overlook her strong English accent. They had been more excited that, at long last, they'd get to see the human side of the awfully rich yet extremely private tycoon dynasty.

Plus, her vigor, charm, stubbornness and outspokenness had been a pleasant change from the dull, old, traditional and private Queen Rhea with the unknown past, which she kept a deeply buried secret.

She had not disappointed. Since her relationship with Zeus had become known, she had broken one centuries-old royal tradition after another. First, she had announced her pregnancy shortly after their engagement. Then, she had refused to hide her - rather obvious - baby bump underneath layers and layers of tulle for her wedding day. Following her becoming the Crown Princess, she had began to train and volunteer as a midwife whilst lobbying with the feminists for the legalization of abortion in Greece. Like an exotic creature, she was feared, adored, and detested. Sometimes all at once. But she had yet to show her true force. After she had filed for divorce, she had kept demanding joint custody for Aphrodite. Rumours at the time had also kept focusing on her decision to pay a generous sum to the Royal Family and the Greek government to ensure that she would get what she had wanted.

That's how things worked in their world. Their money could buy everything and everyone off. The big fish always ate the smaller, meeker ones. It was how her ancestors had ended up with that vast fortune, after all. The Oceanides family may have enjoyed a reputation of decency and fairness, but they never hesitated to play hardball if the situations called for it.

And they were masters at the game.

Looking back, Zeus and Dione would have divorced one way or another. Her refusal to play the supportive wife and her desire to have her voice heard would have led to it sooner or later. But, for better or worse, his own infidelity had forced them both to face the ugly truth. They had been too young and immature for marriage and parenthood. Hadn't been for that unexpected pregnancy, or for Dione's persistence to have that baby, things would have turned out differently. They would have had more time to know each other.

Following their bitter and very public separation, they had settled into a cold, business-like relationship. He had not forgiven her for dating Tantalus (his childhood best friend!) any more than she had forgiven him for his affair with Hera. It had taken them years until they had finally made amends - for Aphrodite's sake. At the end of the day, Hera and Tantalus deserved most of the blame. Over time, their allegiance had turned into an odd kind of friendship.

But as soon as he'd open that door, that, too, would fall into pieces.

Zeus wasn't a fool. Aphrodite's panicked email was only the motive for Dione's return to Greece. In fact, it had been him she had wanted to see all along. As a display of hospitality, he had agreed to make it easier for her. Hera may have been displeased by his decision to invite her to Tatoi for Christmas, but Zeus was certain that it was a great idea. Surrounded by his family to a place she had once called home, acting as the embodiment of everything Dione had turned her back to... She had looked very uncomfortable.

He had to use that to his own advantage.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled open the door. The small room was mostly dark, save for the bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The windows were always kept shut to keep away prying eyes and ears. It was also very modestly furnished. AN old and worn-out oak table stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by four uncomfortable-looking wooden chairs. There were no decorative items anywhere, except from the few authentic antiquities that were discovered in the estate and were kept there for additional security. Dione was sitting on the desk, savoring the rest of her red wine. The way she held her body, though, indicated that she wanted to be done with as soon as possible. They knew they didn't have much time. Sooner or later, his relatives would come back into the Palace after hours of trekking and horse riding, eager for a cup of coffee. The staffers, too, would soon begin to storm into the dining room to add the final details before dinner would be served.

It wouldn't do for the King and his ex-wife to be seen exiting the most secretive room of the Palace together, would it?

"Alone at last!" Zeus joked to ease the tension.

Dione grinned. Placing her glass next to her, she crossed her knees. Zeus couldn't resist staring, although he knew what she was playing at. He had confessed to her once that her long, slender legs never ceased to drive him crazy. Their eyes met for a moment and Zeus tried very hard to resist that familiar tingle between his legs. He could already feel his trousers getting tighter. But he had to fight it. For as long as possible.

"Don't play games with me, Zeus," she replied. "You know why I'm here."

"Well then," he said trying hard to swallow his resurrected lust for her. "Ladies first."

Dione had noticed the way his body reacted to her. Holding the glass of wine again and bringing it to her lips, she asked: "Have you thought about the offer I made you?"

That was the moment Zeus had been waiting for. It was his turn to humiliate her. He had regretted telling her about his debt and revealing to her the plans to get Aphrodite married off to Hephaestus. Since then, she had kept bombarding him with various suggestions to prevent that from happening. Yet the more offers she made, the more powerless he felt. He had considered whether he should have stopped her early on by telling her it was a done deal. But he knew, deep inside, that he'd have fallen on deaf ears.

That's why he both respected and disliked women in power. They were perfectly aware of their value. It made them very tough to beat.

"I cannot accept it," he replied confidently. "I am aware that all parties involved would have benefited from it. But you know how sexist the Greeks are. If she divorces him, they will put the blame on her while Hephaestus will be getting away with murder. I don't want another skeleton in my closet."

Dione had proposed that Aphrodite and Hephaestus would remain married for only four years. In the meantime, Zeus would invest the money that the Petalas family would have offered him as "dowry" for their son. By the time Aphrodite's marriage would be over, he'd have earned back twice the money he had lost (with some "help" from the Oceanides family of course). As soon as the divorce was finalized and everything had been arranged to favour the future Queen, the Oceanides family would present Zeus with fifteen million euros as a thank-you gift for getting their beloved little princess out of that unfortunate situation. It sounded ridiculous, yet terribly good. But he couldn't risk it.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," Dione pointed out. "Unless we gain the upper hand early on, the Petalas family will use you and the rest of the family for their own advantage. We both know what social climbers are like. They'll stop at nothing to get what they want. We have to stop them before they drag all of you into the mud. Especially Aphrodite."

He sat on the chair opposite her, but he kept a safe distance. It would prevent him from giving into his desire. Plus, it also allowed him to steal a few glimpses of her gorgeous legs.

Rubbing his bearded chin, he asked: "How can I rest assured that you give me your word?"

The hint of menace in his voice didn't go unnoticed. Good for Dione, though, she still had a few aces up her sleeve. Removing her heels with her feet, she rubbed her legs together. She knew that Zeus was staring. The fool.

"Look at us!" she uttered. "We're just sitting here, playing Russian roulette with our daughter's future!" She paused for a moment to make sure she had Zeus' full attention. "She means the world to both of us. Both the Royal Family and mine had to bend fundamental rules to get her to where she is now. We're not always that generous. Believe me, darling, any smart man in your shoes would rush to take advantage of that."

Zeus had to admit, she was quite the diplomat. She had turned to affection to get what she wanted. Yet, he couldn't help noticing the slight irony in her voice as she had called him 'darling'.

"After our divorce, your father had forbidden me to invest in his companies," he reminded her. "He practically shut the door to my face when I asked him why. Since then, he has ensured that all the doors that may lead me to you or your money remained firmly locked. I can't help but wonder. Is our daughter really worth fifteen million in his view? Or is it something else that you wish to keep a secret?"

Dione smirked. Unbeknown to him, Zeus had fallen into his own trap. "You misheard," she replied uncrossing her legs and crossing her ankles. "I said fifty million."

Zeus choked. "Fif-"

"Think about it," Dione furthered. "You will be one of the wealthiest monarchs in Europe. But, seeing that the game has changed, I have different conditions this time. You should break off the match. Effective immediately. No one has to know, least of all the Petalas family. You want Deutsche Telekommunikation to pursue Hellenic Telecommunications just so you can invest it in. The Greeks aren't happy about it and your public support of the merging has done irrevocable damage to your reputation. Not to mention a few other... surprise factors."

Zeus got the reference to Hera's three-month absence. The Queen's absence was still raising many questions that would not help improve his reputation at all. Perhaps his days as king were numbered. Dione kept staring at his face. He turned to the side, avoiding her gaze, and cleared his throat.

"Surely you do remember my eldest brother, Aias?" she asked. "He is the head of the Oceanides Business Group now. He can reverse that purchase with one phone call. HT remains Greek, your reign is secured for at least another decade, and you can invest it in without living in fear that you might lose all your money again."

Zeus rubbed his chin again. It was a great offer. In fact, it was the best one he had received until now. Not only did it spare him the scandal from Aphrodite's divorce but it also slammed the door right to the nasty faces of the Petalas family. Still, something wasn't right. All that sudden generosity of the Oceanides family surely came at a price.

"And in return?"

Dione twirled her glass around. "In return, you invest to some of the companies of our choice and you no longer interfere in Aphrodite's personal life." Zeus scoffed. "I need to protect them from harm. Shall I remind you what happened with Eris?"

"I am not here because of Eris, dear."

There it was again, the ironic term of endearment.

He couldn't take it anymore. Standing up, he bent forward on the desk, his hands on Dione's sides and their faces so close that they could feel each other's breath on their faces. If anyone walked inside now, they would misunderstand their negotiation for an amorous romp.

"Aphrodite is my heir!" he yelled through clenched teeth. "Her personal life is a matter of the state!"

"Exactly," Dione replied calmly. "She needs a husband that can assist her in her future role in the best way possible." Gently, she pulled Zeus back to free herself from his grasp. "You haven't realized the level of Aphrodite's celebrity yet, Zeus. She is practically a superstar in the U.S! Her engagement will make headlines worldwide. Everyone will be rushing to find out more about that mysterious partner of hers. Journalists will try to dig in as much as possible. If they find out the true reasons for their marriage, your decision will backfire. You cannot afford that risk."

So she was basically threatening him with the downfall of the Monarchy...

Letting out a long sigh, Zeus stepped back. Hands in pockets, he stepped aside to think.

There was no debating it. At long last, the Oceanides family were willing to side with him and he needed their contribution now more than ever. But what Dione was asking was impossible. Unless he kept a close eye on Aphrodite, she would get the whole of the Royal Family in trouble.

"Give Aphrodite a chance!" Dione added. "I understand that it is our duty as parents to keep them out of harm's way, but... they're not little children anymore."

He turned to look at her. Once again, she had crossed her knees. But he couldn't look at her legs now. He felt that they were mocking his disposition. "So, you are criticizing my abilities as a father and a king."

"Neither. You have been great at both. But when it comes to fatherhood, you have been doing it the wrong way."

She'd have liked to add that Zeus had been hardly there to see it, but it would make matters worse.

"And fifty million euros will magically fix that?" he asked sarcastically.

"It's a start. Once the Petalas family are out of the picture and your own reign has been secured, you have plenty of time to make amends with her."

He hated nothing else in the world like he hated Dione's smirk at that moment. Like she knew she was going to win eventually... But she was right. He had invested most of his time with Athena, teaching her all he knew and always encouraging her to be herself, in order to ensure that she was accepted both by the Royal Family and by the nation. Aphrodite had never needed all that amount of care. Her maternal relatives always made sure to shower her with all the love and attention in the world.

She was right. Athena had always been treated like she had been the rightful heir all along. But, knowing Aphrodite, she wouldn't accept to be sold off for the second time.

It was too late to bridge the gap.

Dione couldn't take her eyes off him. He looked like he was carrying the weight of the whole world on his shoulders at that moment. She hated seeing him like that. But then again, he had brought the bankruptcy upon himself.

Zeus figured that there was no need for debating it any longer. His family would be back in a few minutes.

"You'll have my final answer in a week."

Dione smiled wider. It was a yes. He'd be a fool to turn down such a grand opportunity. But she wouldn't tell Aphrodite anything yet. She'd wait until everything was said and done to share the news with her.

Getting off the desk, she walked up to Zeus and held his hands in hers. She was looking into his eyes, rubbing his fingers softly. It was enough to drive Zeus mad. But his defeat had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Thank you!" she whispered.

Whatever that meant.

---

08:00 PM

A guest room

OK, you know what? Screw it. Screw everything!

I've spent the whole day just crying over some worthless guy. Yes, it's Ares I'm talking about. The fool doesn't even bother to look at me! Alright then. If he wants it to be this way, then so be it. It's his own damn loss. There's plenty of other fish in the sea and I have quite the net.

Mother has kept out of it. She told me this wasn't my first breakup and, by the looks of it, it certainly wouldn't be the last one either. I know what I have to do. My cousins in Surrey were shocked to hear it when I called them earlier but I don't care. It's an old trick that always works. But I will follow Mother's sole warning not to make things more complicated than they already are. She's going to try and bribe Father to get me out of this situation, I know it. I'll be surprised if they don't try at least.

Don't worry. It has nothing to do with the 'usual suspects'. They disappeared from my life and I am sure that Zeus Almighty and the NIS have something to do with it. They make for quite the duo, those two. Oh, well. They were nothing but trouble anyway. And I still haven't found out what the heck happened to that dress of mine.

Whatever. I'm better off without them, frankly. After all, I've always loved myself more anyway.

If there is one thing over here that men hate, it's a woman showing off her body. They condemn it like it's the work of the devil. They make women feel ashamed and guilty in their own skin. (It's also the reason male journalists just hate me so much). But I was brought up to believe it is the greatest weapon we can have. They fight it because they cannot resist it. It's very typical of men to do so, trying to prove that they are much stronger than their emotions.

We can use it to our advantage. We could make them weak at the knees, have them bend at our very will. And these fools won't know what hit them.

The Herrera dress will do just the trick. It's a dark blue floor-length strapless gown with black embellishments all over it. Anna has just finished doing my side braid and I am standing before the vanity mirror, adding the last touches to my makeup. You can never go wrong with nude colours and dark outfits. You want to look freshened up, not like the Corpse Bride in her reception dress... I complement the appearance with the long oval embellished earrings. Perfect!

But the nude tones also serve another purpose. It'll draw the attention away from my eyes and where it should go. Standing up, I walk up to the full-length body mirror. As is befitting of column gowns, mine, too, accentuates all the right places. But let's give it a slight twist, shall we?

Taking hold of the skirt, I pull it down slightly. Just enough to reveal some more cleavage. There we go. Plus, the Chanel ivory shawl over it shall make for quite the combination. It'll be teasing but still modest enough for a family occasion. I'd hate for Mother to feel more uncomfortable than she already does.

Speaking of, I should call Astris first thing tomorrow and tell her about how Peacock's five latest botox injections were utterly destroyed after she had realized how everyone - even Amphitrite! - had been trying to make Mother feel at home. She'll have the baby two months early!

In fact, I have an idea...

Better yet, a plan.

There is a designer crimson tie waiting for Ares in a square box underneath the Christmas tree in the entrance hall. It's supposed to be my gift for him. But his real present is far from material and doesn't come with an exchange card.

Ares loves the thrill of competition. He doesn't know it, but he adores it. He lives for it. It gives him a battle to fight and it makes him feel alive. So, I am using the old-fashion trick: jealousy. No, it's not Hephaestus. Ares can eat the poor man for breakfast. It's someone else. Some guy he's always been awfully jealous of.

That other guy won't be surprised I called him. Since we broke up, we've always been honest with each other and he won't refuse if I ask him just a simple favour. Nothing more. No strings attached.

He'll love it. It's always been our little game.

I grab my mobile phone from the nightstand and type his number. A few seconds later, I can hear his familiar, throaty voice: "Hello?"

"Anchises hi. It's me. Can you talk?"

He laughs. "What does my favourite little naughty Crown Princess have in mind now?"

"Let's just say... I'm feeling rather playful. Are you in?"

"With you? Always!" I can picture him grinning from the other line. "Name a time and a place."

"Tomorrow. Eight thirty. Your treat. Your girl feels like being surprised!"

"Is there anything in it for me?"

I smirk at the innuendo. "If you're a good boy, maybe!"

He laughs louder. "Alright. What are the rules?"

"Just take me out for a nice little dinner and make sure I am the talk of the town tomorrow!"

"Your wish is my command! I'll pick you up."

"You may come upstairs too if you wish. Mother will be thrilled to see you!"

"Dione? Dione Oceanides is here?!"

"That's the one! She still likes you, you know."

"So I'll make sure to buy some chocolates along with those red roses!" I scoff. He's always been cheesy like that! "Alright, Your Highness. See you soon!"

"Merry Christmas to you too!"

I flip the phone and jump up at once. This is the best gift I could've ever wish for! I'm such an idiot, though. Why had I not thought of that sooner?

It'll be hitting two birds with one stone. Poor Ares will never know what hit him!

But I love it. While he'll be busier reuniting with an old enemy, I'll be trying to make Hephaestus see how he deserves way better than me.

He deserves a faithful, loving wife. I am not that kind of person and neither will I ever be. They did try to change me. It didn't work.

Great. I'm all set. Bring it on!

---

The King's Office

Athena couldn't believe her eyes.

She read the memo again: STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL. Manh. 5-2 new offer: 50Mil., condition: Seafoam not marrying. Will discuss at next audience.

It was addressed to the Prime Minister. Deciphering it wasn't hard, since everyone was referred to with their security names. Manh. 5-2 was Dione, Seafoam was Aphrodite, and the offer stood at an extravagant fifty million. Dollars? Euros? She couldn't be sure. But she had warned her father about it. More than once.

Since she was not one to believe in coincidences, she blamed her own sense of tidiness for coming across it. She had entered the room looking for a few moments of peace away from her rousing, jousting relatives. Rude as it'd be to admit it, their pointless and repetitive chatter was giving her a headache. As soon as she had stepped in, however, she had noticed the sole flaw in the perfect picture.

A white folder had laid open on her father's elaborate desk. Right next to it, left closed but not secured, had been the King's Box (a black leather attache briefcase with His Majesty's monogram painted in gold on each side which contained all the confidential governmental documents that had to be delivered to the PM). Carefully, she had closed the file and proceeded to place it in the Box. Yet she couldn't help being drawn to that yellow post-it on the very top of the pile.

She hoped that no one else had seen it - especially Poseidon. Her uncle had a nasty habit of sneaking into the King's Office when he was in Tatoi, picturing an alternative universe in which he had won the elections and had been the current monarch instead. Or it could also be out of sheer nostalgia for the time he'd act as Regent, before Aphrodite had come of age. She didn't have the time to figure that out.

But her father's absentmindedness didn't surprise her either. Quite the contrary. It seemed to be getting all the worse lately. Just the day before, she had overheard two housemaids - one of whom also worked at the Royal Palace - mention how the King had placed his tie in his cigar box before abandoning said box in the fridge at the small kitchen in the Private Quarters. But they seemed to confirm what she had been worrying about a lot since Hera had left for Corfu.

The King was getting too old to continue reigning the country.

He couldn't abdicate as long as Cronus was still alive. The country couldn't afford two living former kings. Perhaps that's why he hadn't announced anything to his family yet.

But still. If Zeus was considering to abdicate after Cronus' death (which wasn't likely to happen for at least the next couple of years), why did Aphrodite have to be married? Having a spouse wasn't a prerequisite for men to become monarchs. Unless the stark double standard regarding royal women also declared that they still needed a man by their side to be taken seriously.

Especially in a country like Greece.

Oh. How stupid of her. It was all about having heirs.

Preferably legitimate ones.

She locked the Box. Letting out a sigh, she sat on the throne-like chair and she opened her book. She was currently reading a very interesting and well-analyzed report on women's rights in modern Greece - ironically enough.

"Athena?"

Caught by surprised, she turned to face the intruder. Zeus was standing by the door, already dressed in his tuxedo as the tradition for Christmas dinner declared. At the sight of him, Athena also became self-conscious about her own appearance. She never felt comfortable in floor-length gowns and high heels. Especially if she was being stared at like that.

Acting on reflex, she hid the memo behind her. If she wasn't caught red-handed, she might have found the odd deja-vu rather amusing. Hera used to scold her like that when she was younger and she'd sneakingly get a book out of her purse to read in public occasions. But this time, she wasn't the cat that spilled the milk.

When the initial shock wore off, she held up the memo. In mere moments, Zeus went from surprised to shocked. Athena could guess what was going on in his mind at that moment. If only he had been more careful... If only he had put the file back into the Box... If only the door to his office had been locked... If only Athena wouldn't let her damn curiosity overcome her...

Maybe it was for the best that she had, after all.

Athena felt so much taller than she actually was at that moment. Her heart was beating wildly at what she was about to do, but she had no other choice.

It was for the best.

Angry and disappointed, she spat: "When were you going to tell me?"

Zeus rushed into the room, closing the door behind him. He approached her like an unarmed man would approach a wild animal. All the while, his gaze never left her strict silver eyes.

Fury doesn't become her, he thought. It makes her look much more powerful than she actually is. It was in moments like this that Athena resembled Metis the most. She was as levelheaded and stubborn as her late mother. Yet, Metis was loud and harmless. Athena was silent but lethal.

Nevertheless, he knew how to handle her. At the end of the day, he was still the one who raised her.

Holding her by the shoulders, he tried to explain. "I understand that you are disappointed. But it is an offer I cannot refuse."

She took a step back. Free from his grip, she bit her bottom lip and looked away. Never could she believe that her father would agree to fall to such a low level...

"So either you sell her off or they buy you off."

Her eyes met Zeus' again. He furrowed his eyebrows, revealing his own resentment about himself. She could see it. He hated to be used for other people's gain. But, most of all, he detested the idea that his children - his own flesh and blood - would believe him to be a weakling. A coward.

At least Athena could understand that he was only doing it to ensure what was best for his family. She was a pragmatist - unlike the rest of her siblings.

"The only way to get rid of the Petalas family is by intimidating them," he added. "They offer twenty million for Aphrodite's hand in marriage, plus another ten in stocks and bonds. I cannot beat them unless I rise above them. That's why I need Dione's money."

She nodded out of sheer habit. It was extraordinary. The same man who had taught her not to fear the harsh truth was now hiding from himself. But he couldn't run away from it forever. Sooner or later, it would come back to haunt him.

"They're playing a game of chess," she said. "You are the sole pawn on the board. It's up to you to decide whether you'll be black or white."

She wasn't fooling herself. Her father wasn't the powerful man that everyone said he was. Still, he did have some dignity in him. But, apparently, he had lost that as well.

"We don't have any private funds at all, Athena." he replied calmly. "When I told you that all our money was gone, I meant it. The Civil List and Tatoi are our only source of income at the moment. But we need to pay for the upkeep of the farm ourselves."

She scoffed, once again avoiding her father's gaze, and did the sum in her head. This wasn't the first time the Oceanides family were so... "generous" towards him. During the bitter battle over Aphrodite's custody, Dione's father had bribed King Cronus and his government with 2.7 billion drachmas in order to convince him to bend the Greek law, all for the sake of his favourite daughter. Today, this amount equaled eight million euros. Likewise, when Hera married into the family, both her dowry and her inheritance would amount to four million euros nowadays. Plus the annual revenues from Zeus' investments, Cronus' own off-shore secret business activities, and the earnings from the products of Tatoi... Until two years ago, they were worth almost twenty million euros in private funds alone. It was humanly impossible to lose all that money in so little time.

Unless you weren't careful enough.

She crossed her arms while Zeus continued his blabbering: "We're the poorest Royal Family in Europe, if not the world, at the moment. I won't have the rest of our peers take pity in us."

He was referring to the European royals. Even the deposed ones could make a laughing stock out of him if the occasion called for it. No one wanted to have an embarrassing relative, let alone hang out with them.

But then again, wasn't that the case with the normal families as well?

It shouldn't come as a surprise, then, that Zeus was trying to figure out ways to keep them afloat. Although, surely, he didn't have to turn to such medieval practices.

"What about our donors?" she asked sternly. "All those Greek tycoons and affluent businessmen gladly donate us huge amount of money every year. It's all about network, isn't it? Some sort of give and take. We give them part of our charm and they pay us back. Why couldn't we stick to that business transaction?"

She had uttered those words so bitterly that Zeus almost became furious at her. He was already staring at her like he had gazed Aphrodite plenty of times in the past. Athena knew she could pull the strings a little further, but even she knew better than to attract the King's fury.

"Wasn't that the reason Aphrodite had been requested to prolong her visit to the U.K and the U.S.? So that she could convince them to increase their generous contribution?"

Zeus hit his fist on the desk. "Questions will be raised and we do not need that under any circumstances. You do not know those people, Athena! Their world is a very exclusive club, like ours. But they go where the money goes. The Oceanides family are the jewel of their crown. Everyone wants to be their friends, for they are the most ruthless enemies you could possibly make. They can just squash you to the ground like the most insignificant insect. After Dione and I got divorced, they shut the door to my face and convinced their peers to do the same. It took me years to convince them to change their mind."

Without hesitation, she approached her father so that she could deal with him face to face. They made rather the ridiculous sight, for he was the giant and she looked as meek as a mouse due to her short height. Through clenched teeth, she asked: "But what about their donations?"

He couldn't take it anymore. "Who do you think pays for you to study at Oxford?!" he yelled.

Regretting his action immediately, Zeus stepped aside and walked towards the window. It was dark outside. Perhaps it'd rain later on as well. In the middle of the room, Athena was waiting for his next moves. Seeing him stand by the window, she couldn't help picturing him as standing at a precipice. Either he jumped by himself, was pushed off the hill, or he waited for the rocks beneath him to crumble and fall.

In the end, he'd die anyway.

But he was too preoccupied with his own downfall to care about the consequences his decisions had on others. He needed to be pushed back. And fast.

"And what if Aphrodite had never been born?"

It took far more courage to utter that question, although it did bring forth the desired outcome. Zeus faced her, not quite believing that that such a thing could dare be asked.

She furthered: "What if I was the Crown Princess and we found ourselves in this situation? Would I also have to be married off so that we could be relieved of your debt?"

In that alternative universe, Metis would have been a commoner, middle-class Queen (provided that she had survived childbirth). From the little Athena actually knew about her birth mother, she had not been a wealthy woman. So, her own maternal relatives couldn't "buy her back" like the Oceanideses were trying to do with Aphrodite. So, she'd have no other choice but to say yes. She'd have to be forced to step aside, watching her husband's relatives cash off from her family as much as they could, tearing their own self-worth apart little by little. Eventually, by the time she would ascend the throne, it'd have been too late. The damage would have been irreparable. She would have tried to ensure, however, that the Monarchy remained as unaffected from that vile display of vanity as possible. She'd have to plant the shaky throne firmly into the ground if need be, provided that she would keep the rest of her royal relatives as far away from harm as possible.

But she couldn't just do it on her own. She'd need them to help her.

It was the mistake that her father was making and which he wasn't even trying to fix. Her nanny's words could sum it up perfectly: "It's not how many friends you have. It's how many of them actually respect you."

Zeus walked up to her and took her face in her hands. She knew that look. "You're different!" he said, with an oddly soft voice.

How predictable of him, Athena thought. She hated to be sweet-talked into being convinced that he was right. That trick may have worked when she was a little girl with ballerinas and piggy tails, but she was too old for that now. The age of lollipops and chocolate candies was over. Now was the time to be rational. And calm. But didn't those two often go hand-in-hand?

She didn't want to stay in there anymore. The longer she looked at her father, the more disgusted she grew at him. For years, she had believed Poseidon to be the family's Mr. Megalomaniac. How great for him that his younger brother beat him at his own game!

She knew how they ended up in that situation. It didn't really take an expert to see the obvious. Hera's relentless and self-indulgent spending on clothes and luxury items; Zeus' agreement early on in his reign and under pressure by the Socialist government at the time to pay rent in order to occupy the Private Quarters (which the Conservatives kept promising to overturn but never really did); her and her half-siblings' education in the best private schools in Greece and abroad; their vain efforts to be as glamorous as other European royals... Zeus was right. Their "club" was awfully exclusive, with a membership granted solely due to birthright or because of marriage. Any attempt from "outsiders" (as most married-into members usually were) to fit in was regarded as pretentious and pathetic.

Unless you had a very good network. In that case, you could practically be counted as an elite member of that "club".

"You might as well sabotage both families and accept both offers," she replied calmly but bitterly. "The more the merrier. Isn't that what they say?"

Theoretically, the King was the most powerful and influential man in the country. In practice, however, his powerless title often did him more harm than good. He was the brightest, fanciest, and priciest merchandise in this endless store of opportunities and ambitions. Those who brought him to his knees could basically shadow-run the country. All the well-heeled sharks knew that. That's why the Petalas family made such a big fuss about Aphrodite.

She was the newer and shinier model of that same, boring, and dusty stock.

The Oceanides family were only trying to protect her. But Athena feared that they, too, might end up wanting a piece of the pie for themselves. After all, they could just shut down the country whenever they wished. Still, though, they didn't need Zeus to give them his blessing. Aphrodite had already done that. The Petalases were trying to follow on their footsteps, except that they were playing it safer.

Ostensibly, Athena had nothing to do with the dispute. She could never overshadow Aphrodite if she tried. The Crown Princess was born to be the bride at every wedding. As for her sisters, they were merely the bridesmaids, forever cursed to remain on the sidelines, being the supportive player. The day Aphrodite would become a mother, Athena would lose the position she had held since she could remember herself. And then Aphrodite would have another baby. And then Athena would be pushed back further down the line.

It was a rather vicious circle.

Maybe she was being too selfish. As Hestia had told her one day, her generation enjoyed way more freedom than her aunt's had done. "Your own cage is bigger," she had told her. To which Athena had replied: "Nevertheless, it is still a cage."

Unlike her or Aphrodite, though, Zeus had the keys. He could have set them free if he wanted to.

She didn't curtsy before she exited the room. It would be interpreted as a sign of respect and a recognition of his power. Simply put, it'd send out the wrong message. She hoped that he'd be smart enough to see that.

Closing the door behind her, she realized that heavy weigh on her heart. She and Zeus had never disagreed like that. She wouldn't let guilty overcome her though. She had a battle to prepare for.

She wouldn't even try to face the Oceanides family. Grateful as she was to Dione for giving her the family she now had, she still was very much a stranger to her. As for the Petalas family, the only way to get rid of them was to go against the current.

It was such a crazy idea that it was already doomed to fail. But then again, she'd never know for sure unless she tried.

She and Aphrodite would have to work together in order to get rid of Hephaestus. If her half-sister was indeed as desperate to get out of the situation as she kept saying she was, convincing her wouldn't be hard. Besides, only she could talk the Oceanides family into doing what Athena had in mind. As soon as they were out of the picture, Athena would turn the tables to her family's advantage behind Aphrodite's back. But she'd have to keep her out of trouble. Otherwise, the Oceanides family would once again make an appearance.

She would make sure that Aphrodite stayed away from harm.

That's what sisters were for, after all.