A/N: At long last, here comes the moment you've all been waiting for :P I truly apologize for taking you back to December in the middle of spring, but these past few months have been too busy for me to focus on anything other than university and stuff. There'll be three NYE chapters because, well, I can't resist the drama :P I had to do LOTS of research on orders, sashes and stuff. I hope this chapter teaches you yet another useless fact or two on royalty which you'll probably never even need to know :P So sit back, relax, and I hope you like it :)

Oh, the orders mentioned there are actual for the most part. Zappeion Megaron is real too (all the buildings I mention in here are real, btw, that's how inspired I am...) You can look it up if you want and its official website also has a virtual tour which is damn convenient for visuals :P

Credit to the "shopping and martinis" idea goes to the lovely ImpersonatingSugar :)

ETA: I changed a bit of Dione's storyline because I wanted to incorporate Dodona (i.e. Dione's place of worship in ancient Greece) into her arch. Seeing that divorced royals these days do get to keep their titles, I figured that Dione would have a title nonetheless and so we decided to make her the Duchess of Dodona.


31 December 2006

5:00 P.M.

Royal Suite, Hotel GB

I'm lost, confused, and overwhelmed. All at once. And heaven too.

Nevertheless, I'll try to give you a small summary of everything that has happened in these past four days or so. Here goes. Remember the Christmas photo shoot at Tatoi the day of Peacock's birthday? These pictures have finally been released. So, for the next year or two, you'll be able to see what a big, happy family the Olympios dynasty is next time you walk into a tourist store and look at the postcards there. Believe me, it truly is a sight you don't want to miss. Yes, I know, this doesn't really sound like an attention-grabber. So, for your consideration, here comes the real juicy stuff. First off, Mother told me yesterday that she's not leaving until she's given Thunder the money that he needs to leave me alone already. Although that doesn't sound bad (quite the contrary, in fact), I can't help thinking that Athena may have been right after all. All that preaching I have been doing about self-respect all these years was mere cloud talk. I'm not worth fifty million euros. Heck, that makes me sound like I'm reducing myself into a freaking object! No, there must be another way for me to get out of this mess. There has to!

Ares is out of the question. Period. Full stop. He's not the solution and never will be. But, since I did mention him, I need to point out here that we still don't talk to one another. I nearly texted him about that... girl... once or twice, but luckily gave up before I even started. I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing I can't live without him. Damn well I can! And I'll prove it, both to him and to myself. Besides, I'm not the one on the wrong side here. So why would I relent? I don't care how long he'll take to figure it out. If he loves me, he'll realize it soon enough.

Oh gosh, I hate my life...

In the meantime, Lydia has been tasked with finding the identity of that... Eos. He obviously sent me that message to test me. Well, if he can play dirty, so can I. I know, this isn't normally part of Lydia's job but she knows just which people to call. So there you have it.

Then we have everyone's favourite double act that is Thunder and Peacock. Rumour has it that they have had yet another fight and are now giving each other the silent treatment. Surprising enough, a woman is to blame for that. But don't start rubbing your hands in anticipation for yet another juicy scandal. Everyone in the Royal Court thinks that I'm this woman. Well, I beg to differ. I think that Mother is the one to blame here, but don't tell her I told you that.

And finally, here come all the supporting players: Anchises is still on stand-by, waiting for me to give him the next instructions, the rest of my family go on with their lives as expected, that Gossip article did cause a bit of a fuss and here I am, about to look the best that I have in the longest while.

So, without further ado, I welcome you all to the grandest royal occasion in all the land. It's the greatest show you've ever seen: bright tiaras, lavish jewels, and the most gorgeous floor-length dresses and ball gowns you've ever seen. (And yes, contrary to common belief, those are two different kinds of formal wear. Don't make me go into great detail because I can give you an entire lecture on that).

Oooh, wait! I almost skipped the best part yet. This will be Mama Rose's first-ever public appearance before the Greek press the longest while. She's nervous as heck, but she still manages to look far calmer than me for some reason. Who am I kidding? The Greek press is child's play compared to the American one and they adore her over there in the US. Plus, she realized that, since the King (who's also her ex-husband) has given her a personal invite, she has no choice but to endure the press. Oh, well. It'll be fun to watch how Peacock will deal with it, though. Bet all you want that she'll try to avoid her at all costs.

As a matter of fact, Mother has been trying to do that with Ares. She downright refuses to talk to him, even just a little. Look, I get it, she doesn't approve of him and she's trying to wake me up from my slumber about him sooner rather than later. Yes, I know, hooking up with him has been the greatest mistake I've ever made. But I can't help it. You know how those things are. You do them once, you want to do them again. And again. And again.

For heaven's sake, Aphrodite, wake up already! Here you are, in your room, with your entire 'pretty-me-up' team at your beck and call and you keep wasting your time with such irrelevant thoughts! So, stop it, sit back, relax, and enjoy the damn show. After all, it's not every day that you get to wear your favourite tiara, is it?

Alright, then. I know what to do. I'll show you around! I mean, that's supposedly what I have been doing quite a lot lately anyway, isn't it? So, my hairstylist is standing right in front of me, with his face so close to mine that it would be damn awkward wasn't he getting paid for it. "This has to be my favourite item in your entire collection," he says, putting his thumb on the dimple of my chin and his index finger between my eyebrows. Then he moves his thumb to where my finger is and, likewise, his finger moves to my hair. It looks like he's actually flirting with me in the most awful way imaginable, but that's not what he's doing. Believe it or not, he's actually trying to count. This is the most essential part of the process of rocking a tiara. He moves his fingers this way so he can find the exact spot on the top of my head where the tiara should be placed. He has to be very careful and very gentle. Place the tiara slightly to the left or to the right, disaster will occur, the world will fall apart, and Thunder will get mad.

And we don't want that, I guess.

Now, since I mentioned that, here are a few more lessons on how to put on a tiara the right way. First, your hair should have been left unwashed for a day, no conditioner used, and lacquered before you put on the tiara. This way, you will have a better grip and the tiara won't look dull. It's the shiniest of all your accessories. It has to be nothing short of bright.

What next... It has to suit your facial shape and your hair colour. I think it's pretty easy to understand why. Pointy tiaras are an absolute no-go for long faces because then you'll end up with a far longer face than the one you already have. On the other hand, a round face doesn't need a round tiara. So now you know the trick: if you have a long face, go for a short tiara and if you have a round face, go for the long ones. (This "match the opposites" rule sometimes applies to fashion too, but that's a story for another time.) In the case of inherited tiaras though, which are the ones you'll find us wearing the most, the first rule doesn't always apply. Yes, we do buy new ones which don't always belong to the royal vault (that is, we can sell them if we've grown tired of them), but we can't keep on buying new tiaras for every single royal occasion we happen to attend. Do you even know how much they cost?!

Anyway, as I was saying, the Rose Crystal is an inherited tiara. Plus, it's definitely much smaller than my face and voila, I strove for perfection. Before I wore it in public for the first time though, I had to have the velvet-covered base changed. My great-grandmother who I think used to wear it a lot as well had dark hair and so she had put a brownish base to it. But that colour would look odd on blond hair and so I kindly asked the royal jeweler to change it. And now we're here.

Next rule... Make sure that the tiara has a long and oval frame. It feels lighter this way. Round ones might look classier, but they are guaranteed to give you a headache for days. (By the way, the Rose Crystal is round... Whoops... Oh, well. I guess now I have an excuse to avoid my responsibilities for the next two days.) Also, if you want to make sure that they'll frame your face the way they're supposed to, place them on a table and make sure that they almost touch it. If they do, they're good.

And back to the hair. You can't just wear it in a ponytail, put on a tiara, and you're good to go. Oh, no. Tiaras need big hair in order to look pretty. Especially the long and/or very lavish ones. If you want to wear your own tiara with your hair down or if you have short hair, make sure they have volume, but please, do yourself a favour and don't look like you've come straight out of the 1980s... The world can't afford this kind of monstrosity anymore. If you prompt to wear your long hair down, just pull the sides back over the ends of the tiara or just cover the them with your own hair somehow. It won't look out of place on your head this way. Plus, curls are your best friend in this case (soft or otherwise). They can add a nice little romantic feel to the whole look.

What more... tiaras are pretty sensitive works of art and they can break, so that's why you must make sure your hairstyle fits the tiara and not the other wary around. The tiara is supposed to be the cherry on top when it comes to your appearance and, well, you'll surely want the rest of the cake to match.

(Geez, I'm so not good with metaphors...)

But yeah, purchasing and repairing tiaras is rather costly. Especially if they're a good hundred years old. So just make sure you take good care of them. Oh, and one more thing: fine thread hat elastic is your new best friend. All those tips I gave you about your hair do work, but if you want to make sure that the tiara will stay on your head, you can sew the tiara into the back of your hairstyle using that kind of elastic. That works better with chignons than it does with hair down, but I use it anyway. It's better to be safe than sorry when it comes to those things.

A few more tips and tricks. Um... Well, traditionally, royal women get their first tiaras when they get married. The British actually stick to this rule to this day, but this firm is kinda stuck to the Middle Ages still when it comes to protocol and tradition. But us more modern societies have changed the rules and declare that all born-into princesses get to wear their first tiara once they've turned eighteen. It actually makes you eager to grow up, as you can imagine. Eileithyia has been allowed to wear hers since last year and she's still pretty excited about it, much to Hebe and Rhode's dismay, who just can't wait to turn eighteen and get their very first tiara. It'll be fun when Rhode turns eighteen, actually. Hebe will be fifteen then and girls at that age can be pretty vain and too focused on looks and appearances. Plus, she'll still be Peacock's daughter. So you can guess how things will turn out.

There's also the general assumption that tiaras can be worn only after six p.m. because they are part of a formal wear. That is true, but there are some exceptions to this rule as well. Royal weddings, for instance, may have a dress code that requires tiaras and gowns to be worn on day time so you have no other choice. But you may wear your tiara without a sash and your honours. If the occasion calls for it. It's too complicated for me to explain in detail how it works, but I did happen to attend a few awards shows where the organizers asked me to wear a tiara but not my sash and honours. Basically, just stick to the dress code. It can save your life.

Wait, what? Have I not told you where we keep them? Damn, sorry. My bad. First off, as I said, we do make a distinction between the items that belong to the crown jewels collection and those that we own privately. All of them are more often than not kept in a vault at one of the Palaces that we own (I won't tell you which one for security reasons). You may imagine them be beautifully stored on satin fabrics etc but this is so not the case. They are actually kept in boxes and drawers for additional security. But some of my own private jewels are kept at a vault in a bank - again, I won't tell you which one. It might seem impractical but, hey, I'd much rather be safe than sorry. To make matters worse, every time I want to wear one of them, they arrive in a bulletproof car accompanied by two police officers, two men of my own security detail, and the royal jeweler because she's the only one I trust to take care of them. It might seem a bit too much for you but, hey, those jewels are worth hundreds of thousands of euros. Millions too, even. It's definitely far more than your parents have spent on you. Don't look at me, though. I seem to be the exception to the rules quite a lot lately.

Oh, and one more thing about tiaras before I forget. The Queen always gets to have the biggest and most lavish collection of all the tiaras and the former Queen passes them down to her successor, but she can keep a few for her own use or borrow from the royal vault. Lower-ranking royals (like Princesses Eris, Eileithyia, or Amphitrite) may borrow from the Queen's collection if they want, as long as they don't wear the ones that the Queen wears the most. Different rules may apply to other royal families but in ours, we're stuck with Peacock and she's not one to share much. Mine is the second largest and most of the pieces in my collection are private gifts, so once I do become Queen, I'll get to wear the jewels in the royal vault as well, making my collection the largest one there is. So there you go, that's all you need to know about tiaras.

Ooh, I mentioned sashes and honours already. Now, take a deep breath and fasten your seat belts, because this is going to be a long and complicated ride (don't say I didn't warn you.)

Let's start from the sashes. They're part of the insignia that shows that one belongs in an order of chivalry or merit. Basically, they're an order of honour and every country has to have some sort of order, even if they don't have a monarchy. I won't get into much detail over who is allowed to get what and how so I'll just stick to that: you can get it if you're a citizen of the country that awards you the order, a civilian or a royal, or a foreign official who is awarded an order of a country they're visiting as a means of friendship. Now, there is one sash for each order and each country has their own, unique ones, so it's easy to tell them apart just by looking at the honour.

Greece has seven orders in total, ranked here from highest to lowest: the Order of the Redeemer (the oldest decoration - an indigo sash with white borders), the Order of King Uranus I (given to royal men only - a black sash with white and red striped borders), the Order of Queen Gaia (given to royal women only - a black sash with white and grey striped lines on the borders), the Order of King Cronus I (a burgundy sash, plain and simple), the Order of Honour (an indigo sash with yellow borders), the Order of the Phoenix (orange sash with dark blue borders), and the Order of Beneficence (yellow sash with blue borders - restricted to women only).

Each of these orders also has five classes, again ranked here from lowest to highest: Grand Cross, Grand Commander, Commander, Gold Cross, Silver Cross. Yes, each grade has different rules of how you should wear a the sash, badge, and star. Actually, the star is only reserved for the two highest grades. The recipients of the Grand Cross wear the sash from the right shoulder and the star on the left chest, whereas the Grand Commanders wear the badge on a bow tie and the star on the left chest. Commanders simply wear the badge on a bow tie, Gold and Silver Crosses wear the badge on a ribbon on the left chest (no sash for them, poor things).

Does this all sound a bit overwhelming? Well, that's not even half of it.

So, the badge of every order is pinned at the end of the sash (hanging from the bow below the hip) and the stars are pinned under the chest (for the women) or on the jacket (for the men). But they're not pinned on the sash. If, say, the sash is placed to the right side, then the silver pin that is the star of the order is placed to the left side. But, don't get into a headache just yet. Whether the sash is placed on the right or the left shoulder and location of the pins depends on the Order, the grade, and the country. Some have similar-looking sashes (because that's only how inspired you can be...) and you can tell them apart because they have a different badge and width and are also worn differently. Now, that little pin that you do see us wear on the sash and below the shoulder sometimes... is actually not that big a deal. No, really. It doesn't mean anything. It's can either be a random pin that you bought at a jeweler's store or part of the royal jewels. But we only ever wear it to keep the sash in place. And if we don't want to wear it to the front of the dress, we wear it to the back of our dresses. There!

Phew! So, the three orders that are named after my ancestors are the dynastic ones, meaning that they can be awarded as a personal gift from the King to the people that bestowed good service upon him. More often than not, those people are his very own relatives because they're family and who doesn't trust his own family (tee-hee). Every royal family out there has such dynastic orders. They're actually considered to be a part of the cultural patrimony of each royal family. The rest are state orders, which means that they're not bestowed by dynasties but by monarch. I can't tell you exactly what the difference is because I don't know it in detail either and no amount of secret dates with Ares can change that. I'll make your life easier now and simply tell you that There are different orders for men and women. Some are awarded only on either gender and others are for for both. Plus, each time we visit a foreign country, we are often offered those as a gift that also symbolically marks the good relationship and alliance between the two countries. Once we have been awarded it, we must wear the order we received from that country every single time we visit it on official capacity as a display of alliance and friendship. If you don't have any, you are obliged to wear the highest order of your home country. I'll tell you more of that when the right time comes. But let me just say for now that I have an entire collection of those.

Back on home ground. Zeus Almighty has the highest classes of all seven of them. Just because he's the sovereign. That's the case with every monarch out there, by the way. Since I'm the bright future of this country, I have five and Hera only has four. That's how you know I already outrank her.

Actually, every single born-into member of the Royal Family is made Knight Grand Cross of the Order of the Redeemer, whether they're male or female. Triton, Hebe and Rhode will receive that order as well, once they've turned eighteen. As for the married into ones, well... they have to fight for it. Poor Princess Amphitrite has endured this family for almost twenty years and she's stuck with the Order of Queen Gaia. Oh, well.

Damn, I almost forgot. Ares has the Order of King Uranus I and not the Order of the Redeemer. That's what you get when you are adopted into a royal family.

See? Double standards are everywhere with us!

Anyway, one last thing and then we're done with this mess. Some royal families also have this thing called "family orders" which is basically a framed miniature portrait of the current monarch hanging from a bow and which is awarded by the monarch himself (or herself) to members of their royal family. They can always be seen pinned below the left shoulder, regardless of how the sash is worn. But we don't have them in Greece. We have the dynastic orders instead. I don't know whether the one is a consequence of the other and I've never cared to ask, so I guess we're done here.

Now you might be wondering, how come I can explain all those things. Well... For better or worse, two of my half-sisters are eight years old. Hebe has realized only recently that she's a real-life Princess and Niobe is all too excited to be related to one. And since I'm definitely old enough to be a Mama Bear to them both, I teach them those things. Over and over again, until they finally learn them by heart. So there you go.

Back to reality. My hair is styled in a messy Edwardian bun, I am wearing my tiara, my royal blue lace dress looks gorgeous on me and my two maids are just finishing steam-ironing the matching see-through cape and the sash of the Order of the Redeemer. That's an indigo one and yes, I did pick the dress to match the ribbon, thank you very much.

Speaking of, she also insisted I put on the earrings Hephaestus made for me as well. She saw them on my vanity table and she's still far more excited about them than I was. But no, I can't do it. It'd send out the wrong message. He's supposed to be escorting me tonight, so he will make sure to see if I wear them. As a matter of fact, he hasn't communicated with me lately either. I guess that article on Gossip did work it's magic after all. Who knows, I may have finally gotten my chance to get rid of him. Then I won't have to play friends with Athena anymore and my maternal family will get to keep their money.

Could it really have been that easy all along?

My dresser walks up to me, holding the sash. Right behind her, Anna and her assistants hold the cape of the dress and the pins I need. They all wear surgeon's gloves, so that they won't get anything dirty. And, as you would expect, my hairdresser doesn't miss his chance to shine: "Are you ready to become a Majesty, Your Highness?"

"Very funny!" I reply.

Everyone chuckles and I let them help me put them on. Come to think, it's also rather ridiculous. It's just a dress, a long ribbon, and a few shiny accessories. No big deal. And yet... if you put them together, they create something that's almost magical.

Who knows? You may never be too old to believe in fairy tales after all.


The Queen's bedroom, Palace of Tatoi, Acharnai, East Attica

Amphitrite hugged herself tight. Her white silk kimono robe was too light to keep her warm but she didn't care. She didn't mind the cold. As a matter of fact, she had gotten used to it since her childhood in Naxos. Winters in the Greek islands could be harsh and their inhabitants often lacked oil or firewood for the heating. Her own parents may have been relatively better off than most other families there, yet she could still recall having to share her tiny bed and itchy blanket with her sister, Galatea, so that they wouldn't shiver at nights.

She shouldn't complain. Being a member of the Royal Family had grown her accustomed to luxury. Still, all the privilege in the world couldn't keep her from feeling nostalgic. She did miss her old life sometimes. For one thing, it was simple. People worked hard, they complained about being neglected by the Greek state and were sometimes unable to make ends meet, but they always found ways to be happy. They lived for the day. There was no schedule set for them three months in advance or any official engagements to attend to. Journalists didn't judge their every word, their outfits weren't talked about for days, and the government didn't impose limits on what they could or couldn't do.

Nowadays, every time she went back home, she was treated as some sort of goddess. The girl next door who married the dashing Prince. Her close friends and family, the people she had known her entire life, continued to treat her like the person she had once been. But she could always detect the awe in their stare, as if they still couldn't believe that "their very own" Amphitrite was now famous all over the country.

Truth be told, she had yet to get used to it as well. Perhaps she never would. Who knows, maybe she was too old to play the fairytale princess anymore. But there was no use regretting her choices now. It was too late for that.

Her embellished light blue-grey taffeta ball gown was hanging outside her wooden wardrobe; the Serene Crystal Waterdrop Tiara (which was much smaller than its grand, yet well-fitting name suggested) shone bright in its velvet case, and the Order of Queen Gaia, with its dark blue ribbon with the horizontal blue-and-white border stripes lay on her bed, freshly ironed. Next to it was the star of the Order and a random diamond brooch to keep the sash in place.

Each of those items was part of a perfect whole. And yet... it didn't make sense...

She kept staring at her gown, hoping that it could somehow work its nonexistent magic. It might help her to forget. But, try as she might, the same old thought was constantly coming back to haunt her. Ares and Aphrodite, Ares and Aphrodite, Ares and Aphrodite...

How long had this been going on? Why? And if Ares hadn't told her all about it when he was drunk, would she have found out somehow? Would anyone?

Muffled laughter broke the silence, coming from behind the closed door. It was probably her hairdresser. She had asked her team to leave her alone for a while. They had been awfully cheerful while they had been doing her hair and makeup but she couldn't share their joy. It made her feel even more horrible about herself. Normally, she loved being around boisterous people. They oozed liveliness and she adored that. That's why she had married the loudest man she could find, after all.

But now it all felt so... distant... So foreign...

Looking at her freshly manicured nails, she resisted the urge to dig them deep into her skin. She'd always do that when she was nervous. The pain made her weep. Tears helped her calm down.

Not this time. She could clench her teeth until they hurt or bite her bottom lip until it bled, but all she'd end up ruining her makeup. There wasn't enough time for her team to start all over and she'd end up feeling even worse, all because she forced them to fix a damage that could have easily been avoided.

Poseidon hated that attitude. He'd often remind her that some things were simply meant to be broken and that they shouldn't stop them from falling down. Well, of course. That's why he'd apologize to her every single time he had done something wrong. She didn't trust his promises anymore. They were just a desperate attempt to keep together what had been glued back a thousand times over.

The Serene Crystal was one of his many ways to fool her. Same for the diamond bracelet around her right wrist and the matching ring on her left middle finger. She didn't know why she was still wearing them instead of throwing them to his face, like any other woman would've done in her place. She wanted to make sure that he wouldn't stray again perhaps. That's why she had worn his conciliatory gift at Hera's birthday as well. But tonight would be a grander and far more populous affair. If he couldn't prove that he was worth keeping her, she'd leave him and never look back.

It was the night she dreaded the most.

She scoffed. What a fool she was... All those years of being his wife and she still hadn't learned to read the signs. Guilty people behaved in an odd fashion. Either they drew all eyes on them (like her darling Poseidon always did...) or they did their best to disappear, either among the crowd or in the darkest corner of the room.

Like Ares...

In all those years that she had known him, he had become something between an adoptive son and a much younger brother to her. Yet, he still remained very much an enigma. She blamed his secretiveness for that. He had definitely learned from the best...

She clenched her arm tighter. The same old memories were coming back to haunt her. She shook her head and stared at the view from the window, but try as she might, they kept storming in.

Since the early years of their marriage, Poseidon would be gone for days, sometimes even weeks on end. "On business," as he'd always say. Amphitrite had no idea why he had to travel all over Europe since her father's business was relatively small, let alone why he had to prolong some of his trips out of the blue. Yet, over time, she had figured out that it was pointless to ask. Poseidon would always give her the same old, bitter answer: "Because I must, Pearl." Each night, as she lay next to Poseidon's cold and empty pillow, a voice inside her kept urging her not to believe him. However, his behaviour always convinced her otherwise. He always gave her the phone numbers of the hotels he'd be staying at in case of an emergency. He never came back home smelling of another woman's perfume and neither did his clothes in the suitcase. As a matter of fact, he was so confident of his own innocence that he even let Amphitrite unpack every single time. On purpose. He'd hide gifts in there for her to find. Expensive perfumes in shiny gift wrap, lavish jewels in heavy cases, even new dresses and lingerie with the price tag still attached. "To make up for the lost time," he'd whisper in her ear, holding her close and sending shivers down her spine

Every single time.

Yet her own family had a different opinion. Her mother, Doris, insisted that she had better take the children and come back to Naxos before it was too late. "He leaves you on your own, with a toddler in one arm and a baby in the other and you have to take care of them all by yourself, while he just... disappears. What sort of a husband treats his wife like that?" Even Nerites, her beloved only brother and staunchest supporter, dubbed him "the fraud", a nickname that her sisters were also quick to adopt. But they didn't have any proof either. Their suspicions came primarily from what they'd read about him in the press and what they'd heard from gossip.

Until that fateful day arrived in May. She had attended a two-day international conference for the environment in Athens, both due to her role as Princess Poseidon of Greece and on her capacity as the president and co-founder of Hellenic Seas Initiative, a non-profit foundation for marine conservation. She was so happy to go back home that she couldn't stop making plans about dinner during the three-hour drive to Porto Heli. After all, it wasn't every day that she got to cook for her own family...

Once she stepped into the living room, she noticed Poseidon's jacket and tie first thing. They had been thrown on the sofa in a hurry. Was he home early then? But why hadn't he told her? Normally, he never left his office before six in the afternoon unless he had fallen ill or had somewhere else to go. Another "sudden" business trip for instance, as was the case quite a lot recently. But then, she spotted the bottle of Chardonnay on the dining table. That was odd... He never opened that one unless they had guests over. She looked around her. Two empty glasses of wine stood on the kitchen counter nearby. As she held them in her hands to carry them to the sink, she noticed the marks. Red lipstick.

The glass fell to the floor. Her hands were trembling; her heart was beating wildly. Then she noticed it. A pair of black high heels, right by the armchair.

Could it... be?

She didn't think twice. She rushed upstairs at once, thankful that her aides had been dismissed for the rest of the day and that her bodyguard was waiting outside, as he had been instructed to do. She entered their own bedroom first. It was empty. Even the bed was untouched. In the blur of the moment, she searched the children's rooms. Nothing there either, thank goodness. Then the guest rooms. Same.

Then it hit her. If Poseidon had even the tiniest sense of decency about him, he'd use the one room in the entire house in which his wife never entered.

The one that the housekeeper occupied.

Conveniently enough, today was her day off...

Not wasting a second, she rushed to the other side of the mansion, swearing at the complicated architecture of the place. Her heart was beating so wildly that she thought it'd break any moment now.

A bad dream, she kept saying to herself. Please let it all be a bad dream...

She wished that she was back to one of the guest rooms at the Royal Palace, that Hera was waiting for her in the dining room and that Hebe was also there, eager to give her the small drawing she had prepared for her.

But she wasn't. She was touching those walls, smelling that smell... There was no mistaking it. She was home.

And that's what made it all so hard to believe...

Closing her eyes, she took deep breaths. She was standing outside the room, yet she couldn't bring herself to enter. The giggles woke her up from her slumber. No, she wasn't dreaming. Poseidon's hoarse laughter was heard. She knew it well...

She opened the door at once. There he was. Curled on top of a woman with stained makeup, who was laughing too loudly for her own good...

Her darling husband noticed her of course... He looked shocked for a change. "Amphitrite?!"

She didn't say a word. Leaving the door wide open, she turned her back to him and left. He called her name. She wouldn't look back. He was running after her, trying to explain, but she seemed to have grown deaf to the sound of his own voice. Finding an empty suitcase, she made her way to the children's rooms and began to throw some of Rhode and Triton's clothes in it. They'd for now. But if they needed any more, there were plenty of stores in Naxos that they could visit.

Poseidon continued to chase after her, despite her many attempts to avoid him. He even tried to hold her, to make her see his face, but she kept pushing him back. And just like that, she stormed out of the house.

Doris was right. She should have left before it was too late.

She didn't close the front door behind her. On purpose. Before she walked up to the SUV, she looked back one last time. Poseidon was nowhere to be seen. Naturally. It wouldn't do for him to be seen in such an... inappropriate state.

Her security agent was stunned to see her. He was waiting by her car, holding her suitcase and waiting for her orders. But he knew better than to ask the wrong questions. Neither did he put up a fight when the Princess told him she'd take the wheel, despite her trembling hands. First, they drove to Rhode and Triton's private school at a nearby town, an hour's drive away. He noticed how she was driving a lot faster than her normal speed. Like a wary driving instructor, he figured that he ought to make sure that she wouldn't do anything crazy. He could guess what had played out in there.

There was nothing more dangerous or frightening than a woman who had been hurt and deceived...

Deep down, though, he was glad that she had finally left the Prince. His infidelities had been an open secret among their staff for years. Yet, much as they all felt sorry for her, they never told her a thing. They shouldn't mingle into their personal business and, besides, as far as they were concerned, she might have known all along. She was definitely far from stupid. And Poseidon didn't deserve her either. She was too good for him.

Rhode and Triton were so thrilled to see their mother again that they fell straight into her arms. Their classmates would have scolded their own parents for picking them up instead of letting them take the school bus back home, but Poseidon had been so volatile these past three days that they couldn't wait for Amphitrite to return. Drawing a deep breath, their mother made the announcement. "We'll be staying at grandma's for a few days. Your father isn't coming." Both children shocked. As far as they were concerned, both Doris and Rhea lived a few good hours away from the mainland. Yet, the more questions they asked, the louder Amphitrite turned on the radio. She'd explain everything later, when she'd be calm enough. Their agent wouldn't tell them a thing either. He was busier calling the Princess' staff to inform them on the sudden change of plans and the captain in the Prince Couple's service to tell him to wait for them at port.

Two hours later, they reached the port at the town of Patra and boarded their yacht. Amphitrite had told her bodyguard that he was free to go but he persisted. His job was to make sure that she and her children were safe. He even tried to keep Rhode and Triton entertained during their seven hours on board, while Amphitrite locked herself in her cabin, asking not to be disturbed. No matter how many board games they played, they kept asking him the same question over and over: why did they suddenly have to leave? Yet, all he could tell them was that their parents had had a nasty fight.

The night had already fallen by the time they docked at the town of Naxos. Doris was already waiting for them on the pier. She didn't say a word either. She simply held her daughter in her arms and let her cry on her shoulder.

Odd, how some things never really seemed to change... Seven months ago, she had spent hours on her own, trapped in the void of her own thoughts. In either case, what happened was no fault of her own. Yet, pointless as it was, she couldn't help blaming herself.

Sometimes, there just was no other ways to cope...

Ares and Aphrodite were different though. Their... romance (god, what a disgusting word!) had been blooming under everyone's noses for years. Still, no one had suspected a thing, let alone tried to stop it.

Poor Hera, she thought. Her best friend would be devastated to find out the truth. But she ought to. She was Ares' mother for heaven's sake! Besides, she was the only person in the family who could keep the two apart. Poseidon had been trying to convince his wife that doing so was crazy and that she had better forget all about it. Easier said than done, even for him. For the past four days, he'd wake up in the middle of the night and ask her again and again if she was certain that she'd heard Ares right.

Of course she was! She still remembered their conversation vividly. Ares had been so drunk and unable to think clearly that he had admitted to doing things he'd never claim had he been sober. He had burst into tears the moment she had embraced him, trying to soothe his pain. After a few comforting words, he had told her everything. He had gotten involved with a girl called Eos because he had wanted to get back at a woman that had hurt him a lot. Aphrodite... He had uttered her name with so much sorrow and disgust that left no room for doubt. There was no mistaking it... He loved her a lot... She had asked him who that woman was exactly, in the vain hope that it might be someone who shared her name. After all, she wasn't the only Aphrodite in the land... But he had persisted. It had been her.

His very own sister...!

Amphitrite clenched her fist. She had not slept well the night before either. Once more, she had dreamed about Ares and Aphrodite's dance on Hera's birthday. Their bodies had touched - a little too much. They had looked into each other's eyes like they had been the only two people left on earth. They had giggled like naughty little children, whispered to each other's ears one too many secrets, even held each other's hands... The other guests - the outsiders - had thought it was awfully sweet, another sign of their particular closeness and love for one another. But little did they know, those words could have a thousand different meanings...

But... what about Hephaestus? Was he just a cover? She wouldn't be surprised, to be honest. Then again, why him? Why not someone more handsome, who wouldn't raise any eyebrows once his betrothal to Aphrodite would become official? Could it be her niece's own way to ensure that Ares wouldn't get any jealous? And that marriage proposal she had received? Was that the reason Dione was back in Greece? Did Zeus and Hera stop talking again because of her? Or was something else going on?

She hid her face in her hands and let out a loud groan. So many questions... They could drive her mad if she let them.

Thankfully, someone knocked on the door. "Ma'am? Are you alright?"

She recognized her dresser's voice. That woman was the most talkative member of her team. Amphitrite smiled. She had hired her because she never failed to make her laugh. The perfect antidote to thinking. Perhaps the time had come for her to get dressed. Odd as it sounded, she liked having people get her dressed. It took her back to her wedding day, when her sisters and her friends had helped her put on her gown, singing all the while.

But she had been a different person back then. Luckily for her, she wasn't as naive anymore. Or so she liked to think.

There was another knock at the door. "Yes," she said fixing her robe. "Do come in!"


5:15 P.M.

Royal Suite, Hotel GB

"Alright, Your Highness. You can open your eyes now."

Ooh, here it comes. The moment of the truth. The deciding verdict. The final countdown.

Where on earth is a freaking drum roll when you need it?

Aaand here we go. The first thing I see is my dresser, standing beside the full-body mirror and beaming with pride as if she's just created her greatest masterpiece. Well, tell you what, I don't really blame her. This dress feels incredibly soft and it looks even more gorgeous on me than it does on paper.

Ladies and gentlemen, we've done it again! My royal blue gown matches just perfectly with the indigo sash of the Order of the Redeemer, the Rose Crystal Tiara, and the rest of my jewels: a big diamond brooch with a few blue sapphires for detail and long diamond earrings resembling a rose with its leaves. No rings, no bracelets. The dress is already grand enough as it is and I don't want to look like a walking jewelry box. And judging by the smiles on everyone's faces right now, it was the best idea I have had in quite a while.

One of my dresser's assistants walks up to me, holding two long white gloves. I had asked for those to be prepared as well, just in case I might wish to wear them after all. But, um... I renewed my French manicure this morning and, well, it'd be a pity if I kept it a hidden from the world.

"Oh, I won't need them. Thank you."

She simply nods and walks away. I'm pretty sure she's blaming me for the extra work I made her do but, hey, sometimes you have to make sacrifices for your art.

So, I seem to be good and ready to go. The dress and the cape are where they should be, all the insignia are pinned on me, I adorn all of the jewelry I'm supposed to wear, and I even have my shoes on. Don't you dare forget about those, for they're the most significant accessory you own, believe it or not. Sadly, you won't get to see much of them tonight unless I lift my skirt, but thank heavens I bought them. They look too good for me not to own them and, besides, I have never owned royal blue lace heels, believe it or not. Talk about professionalism though, the Greek fashion house that my dresser worked with in order to create my gown also made sure to make the matching shoes. Why? Because it's couture. We wouldn't have it any other way. Simple as that.

Even my hairstylist agrees that we've done a pretty grand job. "You'll be the belle of the ball at Zappeion Megaron tonight!"

What? Oh, sorry, I must have forgotten to mention that tiny little detail. Yes, I know that I told you that the New Year's Eve Gala normally takes place at the Royal Palace but um... this isn't always the case. Well, look, traditionally, it does. But turns out that Zeus Almighty thought he'd go back to being modern for a change and so he decided to host the party in Athens' most famous spot after the Parthenon. But he wouldn't even dare to host it up there for three reasons: first, the Greek government wouldn't let us (high heels are actually forbidden up there because they destroy the ancient ruins); second, the Acropolis is damn difficult to climb; and third, Athena wouldn't let him. It's actually her favourite spot in the entire country and you bet that she treats it like the apple of her eye.

Speaking of, I don't know why they didn't tell me about it sooner. They must have thought that I get driven around everywhere, so I don't have to know where the heck I'm going most of the time. Let's just overlook the metaphor about my disastrous love life in there for a second and, well, had I known about it sooner, Stupid, I wouldn't have picked a dress that flows nicely when I climb down stairs...

But! Don't you worry just yet! Zappeion Megaron is right at the heart of Athens. For real. It's located in the National Gardens of Athens, south of the Hellenic Parliament and west to the Panathenaic Stadium. Plus, it's massive. I think it must be around three or five times the size of the Royal Palace, or so I was told once. Thunder and Peacock must have invited over a thousand guests, from politicians, diplomats, foreign ambassadors, and military officials to academics, celebrities, businessmen, and everyone who has been honoured by Zeus Almighty in service to the country. So, in short, everyone in there will be wearing Orders. Yes, the Petalas family too. Just stop reminding me about it for a few seconds.

Back to Zappeion. It's a neoclassical building constructed in 1888 in order to be used during the 1896 Olympic Games, either as a stadium or an Olympic Village but I can't remember right now. At some point, in the 1930s or so, it even served as the headquarters of the Athens Radio Station but for the past forty years or so it's been used exclusively for meetings, conferences, and ceremonies. The party will take place in the big round atrium with the Corinthian columns all around us. More on that later, when I'll come back to playing the (rather fancily dressed) tourist guide because I'll have no other choice.

You really need to thank Anna for giving you a break. She just walked in to announce that Mother is here. And as you would expect, everyone rushed out of the room with the speed of light because Anna looked stern and that could only mean that Mama Rose would like to talk to me in private. For your information, Mother is dressed far more simply than me. She didn't have enough time to order a custom made gown and so she asked for a simple ready-to-wear silver Ellie Saab gown which she had bought a few months back and which she was planning to wear at her parents' New Year party in Stansworth to be transferred all the way from London. It actually had its own seat in the helicopter. Pretty sure it wore a head-speaker too, just in case.

For some reason, though, she forgot that she had to ask for jewelry to be brought along too. Oh, well, don't you worry. I came to her rescue for a change. Since she's wearing the light yellow sash with dark blue borders of the Order of the Beneficence (more on that later), I figured we'd play around with the blue there. The sash looks terrible on sparkling silver, but we did try to work our way through it somehow. Conveniently enough, I own an entire collection of jewels with blue sapphires and ivory diamonds. So, she's wearing a big ring on her left hand which I bought from Harrods (that also suits her red nails just perfectly), a Cartier bracelet, a pair of long Channel earrings which, truth be told, I forgot I even owned, a brooch that belonged to a parure that Queen Gaia owned and which somehow got lost, or so legend has it anyway, and, finally, a Cartier necklace that I had be converted into a tiara. Mother does have one, but it's in a deposit box in New York. They couldn't bring it all the way from there because tiaras are delicate and it might have broken. That's why we decided to go with the far safer choice here. My jeweler hated me because the Cartier necklace wasn't made with that in mind but he did his wonders. Truth be told, it would have looked better if Mother hadn't cut her hair and styled it in a bun, like another sane person would've done, but nevertheless, the tiara looks great on her. So, voilà. Now you know how to create a colourful harmony through this whole mess that is Mother's appearance.

Which is why I'm telling you: fashion is fun because it's versatile. You'll be surprised by how many endless choices you have to wear and combine. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise.

Now, about the Order. Its name sounds grand, but don't be fooled. It's actually the lowest one that Zeus Almighty can hand out. Yes, I know, I think she's the only Greek Duchess out there and worth far more than that, but let's be real. King Cronus was her father-in-law and Peacock's her successor. Considering that she's still my mother, that she's done a lot more about charity that my beloved stepmother would even dream of, and the fact that she has redeemed her Greek nationality which she acquired when she married Thunder, I'd say she's done pretty well for herself. Wait until I ascend the throne, though. I'll definitely give her a higher one. It'll be the least I could do.

Anyway, back to the main plot. Mother looks nervous and it's not my fault. No, really. Turns out she was just on the phone to Uncle Aias, who told her that they could find a way to combine Athena's plan with the one they came up with for my sake.

"He's also in talks with his advisors and associates these days to draft out an agreement which Mr. Petalas will be unable to turn down," she adds. "They'll try to convince them to sell off all of their assets and investments to the Oceanides Business Group and at the same time, they'll find a way to shut the door to their faces and leave them bankrupt eventually. It's very, very complicated, but they'll find their way around it somehow." I can tell that she's got a very bad gut feeling about it all, much as she refuses to let it show. Taking my face in her hands, she takes a very careful look at me. "Tonight, Mr. Petalas might come to talk to you. Whatever he tells to you, do remember this: you are far more important and powerful than they'll ever be. And they depend on you as much as your father depends on them."

Oh, dear she really is nervous! She wouldn't sound so... threatening if she didn't feel the need to protect me. But, for the life of me, I can't tell if it's because of the whole Petalas family thing or the offer.

"Why don't we go shopping?" I ask, taking us both by surprise. It looks like we both need it, though. "The stores open again on January third. We'll make the necessary arrangements and have the stores we want all to ourselves. Think about it! We'll buy new outfits, take each other out for some coffee... We'll just hang out and chime in the new year like we used to do!"

She scoffs. It's a yes then. But her mobile phone ruins the perfect moment with its perfect sense of timing. Mother takes it out of her matching silver clutch immediately and furrows her brow the minute she looks at the screen. Oh, boy. What has happened now?

"It's your father." Just what I needed to hear right now... "He says he wants to talk to me after midnight. In private."

"It... It can't be about the offer, can it?"

She sighs, reading the message again. "I actually hope so." She takes my hand in hers. "The sooner we're done with it, the better. For all of us."

I fiddle with my cape a little. Mother asks me what's wrong. "What if..." I hesitate. "What if he turns it down?"

She frowns. "This is your father we're talking about, darling. Has he ever said 'no' to more power?" I chuckle. She holds me close, careful not to ruin my hair. "Nevertheless, you shouldn't let anything ruin your good mood tonight. If he doesn't accept, we'll find another way. There's no such thing as an unsolvable problem after all."

I hope so, Mother. I really, really do. But you never know how other people think. Especially not someone like Thunder...

One thing's for sure though. He constantly keeps you at the edge of your seat, doesn't he?

Well, then, I guess I do have a New Year's resolution ready already. Make sure he produces and directs his very first political thriller. He'd be great in it.

Besides, it'd be a pity if the fifty million euros got wasted for the well-being of Peacock's family and not be invested for something more useful now, wouldn't it? I mean, Mother founded the Gynae Foundation with nearly the same amount of money.

Damn you, Thunder! I could've rescued humanity if only you'd let me!

Oh, well. Knowing him, he'll play matchmaker to me sooner or later either way. I guess I know what favour I'll ask of him then.

Never a boring moment with him, huh?


Hebe's room, Private Quarters, Royal Palace

The nanny could tell that her little Princess had been out of sorts lately. Especially today. All the previous years, she acted like any other child would if they had to wear a pretty dress and attend a fairy tale-like dinner. She wouldn't stop about it for days and she'd even drive everyone crazy asking them if she was now old enough to wear a tiara herself. Good for her, her nanny had bought her a fake yet fancy one, so that she could get her to wear the dress that the Queen had picked for her. But Hebe didn't like the plain dresses that Her Majesty always picked out for her. To quote her, the were either pink or blue or green or yellow or purple. All of her sisters, from Aphrodite to Eileithyia, wore outfits that were "more fun", with lots of different patterns, fabrics, and layers. Plus, they had many different hairstyles and adorned fancy jewelry. Yet, for some reason, Hebe hadn't mentioned them at all tonight.

Although her nanny had studied child psychology in training, she didn't need to look back on the things she had learned to figure out what the cause was. Something happened between the King and the Queen again and they're going through another frosty time in their marriage. Although she had studied children's psychology in training, it didn't really take a genius to realize that Hebe's change in attitude was influenced by her the way her parents treated each other again. Secretly, she felt sorry for her. She, too, had heard the rumours surrounding her conception and birth. Some staffers who were around during that time were talkative enough to inform her. But she didn't care about Their Majesties. Their marriage was between them and them alone. She was getting paid to take care of their youngest daughter and she had better do the job right. Her Majesty was very strict when it came to their children's upbringing and Hebe was definitely no exception. Yet they had developed a particular closeness and she often had to remind Hebe not to call her "Mommy", especially in front of the Queen.

Yet, sometimes, it seemed inevitable not to be mother. Tonight was one of these case. As she was styling the Princess' hair with a curler (another one of the Queen's orders), she decided to ask her straight out what the matter was.

Hebe scoffed. "My parents fought again. I heard Father yell."

"Were you eavesdropping again?"

Though she didn't mean to sound threatening in any way, Hebe perceived it so. Without warning, she tried to face her nanny, but she put her back in her place since a strand of hair was still caught up in the curler. "I didn't want to do it," Hebe protested. "I promise! I was just... out of that door?"

"And what were you doing outside your parents' chambers?"

She hesitated. "I was playing with Elsa!"

That was the name of the porcelain doll that Aphrodite had given her for her fifth birthday. Despite the many reminders that it was meant to be a decorative item, Hebe carried it around with her at all times. She had even given it that name because it sounded regal enough. Even now, as she was getting ready, she refused to let go of it. Again, the nanny could tell why.

"Were you showing her around again? I'm pretty sure she knows the place as well as you do by now."

"I was just telling her that I'd love to have a pet dog or a cat but Mother is allergic to cats and she doesn't like dogs and how I should ask Aphrodite or Athena to get me one on my next birthday but then Mother will get angry and Father will take it away from me."

The nanny smiled. Hebe had been talking about getting a dog since Aphrodite had adopted Blanche. It might have been the fact that she let her play with her every single time they saw the friendly Samoyed but Their Majesties had been absolute when it came to pets. It was a big no. But still, their conversation was far from over.

"Let me guess. You were hoping that your parents might hear you and change their minds?"

"Exactly!" Hebe let out. "But they kept yelling." She turned around. This time, the nanny pulled the curler away to make sure the Princess wouldn't touch it by accident. "Mommy, why do grown-ups keep shouting?"

She sighed. "It's what they do. Especially married couples. They can't agree on anything and they are too stubborn to change their minds. So, they shout hoping to make each other listen to what they want to tell them."

"But if they keep shouting like that, won't their throats hurt?"

She chuckled. "Sometimes they do. If they can keep calm enough." She turned Hebe around again. Her hair wasn't finished yet. "But you should not have eavesdropped. It's not right, especially for a young lady like you."

Hebe held on to Elsa tighter. "I don't want Mother to leave again."

The Nanny didn't know what to say. She could still recall how devastated the Princess was at the time the Queen had announced her so-called illness. Not only had she had trouble sleeping, but she also kept asking everyone if her mother would divorce her father. She had heard about that in school and some of her classmates came from broken homes. Although her own parents wouldn't even consider it for it'd ruin their image, it was still devastating to think that a young girl like her would even come to that conclusion.

With another sigh, she went back to curling the little one's hair. It was amazing, how dysfunctional this family was and how they had to sacrifice their own happiness for the sake of the country. But it reflected badly on the children. For a moment, she wondered whether that was also the reason Hebe's siblings also ended up how they ended up. They were traumatized for sure, especially the Crown Princess. But when they were children, they would find comfort in each other during such times. Hebe was on her own. Ares and Aphrodite may have treated her like they were her own parents instead, but still, she was the King and the Queen's daughter. She had to endure their disaster of a marriage every single day of her life, hence her need to cling on to the things and the people she loved the most.

Poor girl, the nanny thought. My poor, poor girl...

The Crown Princess was right, then. "Monarchs and parenthood do not mix."

Not at all...


Athenian Drawing Room, Private Quarters, Royal Palace

Taking a sip of his vodka, Zeus scanned the room. Even though he hardly praised Hera for anything, he had to admit that she had done a marvelous job redecorating it back in the day. She had been criticized for importing furniture from her parents' apartment in Paris instead of hiring Greek carpenters for the job but that room deserved to look more European than Hellenic. It had an odd kind of harmony that way. A big vertical golden mirror above the marble fireplace reflected the light of the crystal chandelier; there were two sitting rooms on either side of the room, one with a mahogany and another with an oak glass coffee table. The drapes and the wide carpet matched the red-and-gold sofas and Chippendale upholstered armchairs.

Without a doubt, it was a place fit for a king. Named for the city of Athens to preserve the Greek element, it was the only part of the Private Quarters that the nation could get a glimpse of. Over the years, foreign guests, royal relatives, members of the government, as well as ambassadors (both Greek and foreign) had been entertained in its regal opulence.

But that had not always been the case. As long as he could remember the Royal Palace, it was a drawing room only in name. When he was little, it would be used as a makeshift warehouse, where they kept all the items they could store at the attic of Tatoi. After the Monarchy was restored in 1974 and the family returned to Greece, following a six-year-exile in Rome and in London, the Private Quarters had been left locked and abandoned. They had found everything in its place, as if they had never left.

Apparently, no one had seemed to care much about the Royal Family's impact to the country's long history and they had not sorted them through, let alone take better care of them. Zeus could still recall how happy he had been when he and his siblings had decided to open those boxes. It had been like a treasure hunt. They had found their mother's wedding gown and veil, portraits of their ancestors they had never seen before, and various other items that they had shared among them to decorate their own homes - a few antiquities included. Without a doubt though, his favourite discovery had been the ring he was currently wearing on his right hand. Legend had it that it had belonged to his great-great-grandfather, the founder of the Olympios dynasty. So he wore it constantly, as some sort of sign that he was the current and rightful monarch.

But he was no fool. He knew that rings didn't make the kings in this day and age. It was the insignia. They were symbols of power, yet to most people they were just part of the show. And everyone knew, the royals had to pull that off every once in a while...

He hated that notion. They weren't performers in a circus. But, since that frenzy was inevitable, he had sought solace in here for a little while. It was the perfect place where he could forget all about the argument he had had with Hera earlier. She had dared to ask him to release the engagement announcement. Again!

He wouldn't think about her now. Even he had to allow himself to indulge in the sense of power that his outfit oozed. His tuxedo had been ironed just two hours ago, as had the light blue sash with the narrow white borders of the Order of the Redeemer that he had to wear across from his body from the right shoulder. The star of the Order shone bright on the left side of his jacket accompanied by those of the other Orders he had received due to his status as Sovereign: the Order of the Phoenix, the Order of the Beneficence, and the Royal Decoration of the Greek Royal House. Under the collar of his shirt, he wore the necklace of the dynastic Order of King Uranus and all his military and naval honours hang from the lapel of his jacket, for he was the de juris head of all the armed forces in the country. They all felt heavy on him, like a head that bore the crown. Yet, much as he'd love to remove his jacket just for five minutes, his vanity wouldn't let him.

Yes, much as some people loved to remind him of how little real power he had, it still felt good to be King.

He scoffed. Setting the crystal glass on the oak glass table in front of him, he took a glimpse at his watch. They still had about an hour to kill before they'd have to leave. That was more than enough time.

Taking his private mobile phone from the inner pocket of his jacket, he scrolled through his contacts list. Luckily for him, the number he wished to call was at the very top, saved under the name "1A." That was the only way he could ensure it wouldn't get lost in the void.

Without hesitation, he pressed the call button and brought the device to his ear. A few seconds later, he heard a familiar voice on the other line: "Your Majesty?!"

The younger man sounded incredibly surprised. Zeus jumped straight to the topic: "I hear SEAFOAM asked you to go out with her a few days ago. I saw the cover."

He used Aphrodite's security code name for additional security. Years at the highest peak of the country's politics had taught him not to trust that his personal phone calls would not be spied on. That's how Hera had found out about him and Ganymede in the first place after all.

Anchises stammered. "O-of course, Sir. It was all her idea."

"Did she tell you why?"

"Sh-she told me she was s-seeing someone." He cleared his throat. "They had a fight and she needed to show him that she wouldn't be waiting for him forever."

Typical Aphrodite..., Zeus thought before adding: "I trust you don't know who that someone might be."

"No, Sir. She never tells me such things."

Zeus clenched his jaw. He should have been expecting that his daughter would be smart enough to keep her love life a secret, even to her countless lovers. "Fine. If she asks you to keep this up, you must tell me at once. Same if she reveals to you the identity of that man. He might be someone irrelevant again but it wouldn't hurt to know."

"Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes. Play by the rules."

Zeus hang up before Anchises could even dare reply. As soon as his phone was back in his pocket, he took another sip of his drink.

He was still angry that the whole plan with Anchises had gone downhill. The idea to throw him at Aphrodite's feet had seemed perfect at first, despite Hera's countless warnings. His daughter's love life had long become a favourite topic of the paparazzi, gossip magazines, and caricaturists in newspapers. As if that wasn't enough, crazy stories circulated about her and her presumed lovers constantly. Not just in Greece. The U.S. was the biggest part of the problem, for the Greek journalists would reproduce the crap that their American colleagues would come up with and present it as "valid information". Zeus had feared that all that madness would put the Monarchy at risk and so he had decided to teach his daughter a lesson. Sure, he did have his own fair share of scandals, but he still remained largely untouchable, both thanks to his position and Hera being so widely respected by the Greeks. They didn't dare cross the line for fear of they might get to her.

For better or worse, Aphrodite was different. Women were always considered to be the easier victim, especially in this country. It was Zeus' duty as a father to ensure that she'd stay out of harm. He hadn't planned to beat her at her own game at first. Yet, considering how stubborn she was, he had no other choice. Anchises was the perfect bait. He ticked all the boxes on the list: he was stupid enough to let other people use him, his father was a media mogul and - most importantly - he was just Aphrodite's type. Tall, well-built, handsome, and enigmatic. But Zeus hadn't intended to let them cross the line. Anchises would never become his son-in-law, no matter how bad Aphrodite had fallen for him. That's why he had told her that he had disapproved of the match.

As a matter of fact, he still did.

He chuckled. If only Hera were here, she'd tell him once more that he had gone too far. But then again, she had never really trusted Anchises or his family in the first place, even though they had known them personally for the past six years. In the spring of 2000, while Aphrodite had been studying in New York City, the King and the Queen of the Hellenes had made a rare and much-discussed official visit to Turkey. It had been the first time that a Greek head of state had been invited to the country that had been the most prominent enemy of Greece for centuries on end. Their first stop, after Ankara, had been Constantinople, also known as Istanbul. It had always been a city of great importance to the Greeks for it was the former capital of the long-gone Byzantine Empire. Capys and Themiste Dardanos, Anchises' parents, had invited them for a private luncheon in their mansions on the outskirts of the town. Zeus and Hera had been impressed by their fluent Greek and genuine love for their home country, even though they had spent their entire lives as members of the Greek minority in Turkey. Anchises was a little older than Aphrodite and he had already completed his studies in Business and Public Relations - which his father had wanted. He had been planning to pursue his Master's in Athens, but he had been worried that his Turkish passport, the Greek and Turkish bureaucracy, and the strenuous diplomatic relationship between the two countries would make it impossible for him to achieve his goal. Hera had suspected that the luncheon in their honour had been a way to bribe them. But Anchises' motivation had made such a big impression on Zeus that he had rushed to help. He had signed him a certificate, guaranteeing that he was a personal acquaintance and that he was free to study at any Greek university he'd choose.

Real power or not, no one could doubt the power of the King's signature.

Three years ago, he had invited Anchises to a private audience at the Royal Palace. Zeus knew that he couldn't say no. The Dardanos family owed him a great deal. It was thanks to his connections that Capys had managed to expand his business to Greece. Zeus had even prepared to threaten him that, unless he did as he was told, Anchises would never receive the Greek nationality he had already applied for.

But now, Zeus cursed his luck - or the lack thereof. By the looks of it, Aphrodite had turned the tables and was now using Anchises for her own advantage instead. Unless he regained control of the strings, Zeus would have to find another way to keep his daughter's feet on the ground.

There was no way in hell that he'd accept the fifty million and do as Dione wished. He was even determined to negotiate that part of the deal with his ex-wife. Every time Aphrodite got in trouble, he had come to her rescue. Yes, all of her problems had to do with her personal life. But there was another reason why he wouldn't stand to be bought off like that.

He was The King for heaven's sake!


5:45 P.M.

Royal Suite, Hotel GB

"We had a deal, Aphrodite!"

Aaand here comes my darling sister again, being mad at me for absolutely no obvious reason whatsoever. That's how she rolls. At first, she catches you by surprise. Almost immediately, she disappears from your life for an entire week, making you the happiest person on earth. Then, all of a sudden, she comes back, demanding an explanation you had no idea you owed her in the first place.

If that doesn't sound terrible enough, just think that there are people out there who actually think we do like each other. Thunder chief among them. Or Peacock too, even. But yeah, those two aren't the smartest cookies out there to begin with.

Well, what can I say? Their bad.

I rest my private mobile phone against my shoulder, staring at the ceiling all the while. Athena continues to just... blabber on but I can only hear her muffled voice. I can't be missing any interesting bits because she continues to sound like she's too mad at me for my own good.

Whatever that means.

Eventually, I do bring it back against my ear. Yes, I hate myself for that as well. "It still stands as we arranged!" I reply, trying my best to imitate Mother's voice every time she closes another business deal or arranges for yet another press conference to take place. I have to admit, Mama Rose is a great teacher but I might be a disappointment of a student, for Athena doesn't sound very convinced. If at all.

Listen for yourselves: "One of the conditions or, if I remember correctly, the sole condition that we have agreed on states that I do not betray you as long as you do not embarrass me!"

Wait... Have we signed a contract or something? Or did she scribble a document overnight and forged my signature on it? Well, I wouldn't be surprised in either case. She had actually tried that trick when we were four years old and I'd steal the chocolate candy that was intended for her. On purpose. And what did Little Miss Genius do? She had already learned to read and write by that age and so she wrote a "contract" in which she stated that I was forbidden from touching her things ever again. To make matters worse, she had made everyone sign it. Really. From the second assistant plumber to Zeus Almighty in all his might. Needless to say, the signatures took a lot more space and paper than the "contract" itself. I think she still has it, by the way. I know better than to ask, though.

But that was still three hundred years ago and now we're both older, wiser, and much better at this whole frenemies thing. At least I know better than to stab her with my pair of scissors, even though the urge to do so is a little too great at times. If I do it, though, Eris will become my heir. And no one would like that. Except for Peacock. Maybe.

"Look, Athena, is this getting anywhere?"

Oh, come on now, don't give me that look! If her time is precious, so is mine. Yes, I know, I have to be fashionably late. But there's a lot more things I could be doing instead of being... stuck in here.

She sighs. There we go. "Why did you go out with your ex and have pictures taken?"

Oh, god, not her too! I swear, this has become the talk of the town now. Honestly can't people just... find something else to discuss? Just for a day or two? It's already bad enough that Mother, Lydia, and almost every single one of my Oceanides cousins keep asking me what had gotten into me. No wait, Astris and Aganippe (another cousin of mine) also said that they liked my hair in that photo of me and Anchises exiting the bar and holding hands, so I guess they do deserve a few extra golden stars for the compliment. They found out about it because I forwarded them the email that Anchises had sent me, the one with the pictures and the article.

But, nevertheless, they whined.

And Athena seems to be following on their grand footsteps... "Don't try to fool me, Aphrodite! Those aren't old photographs and I am not our father!"

Damn, I should have been recording this phone call! It's not every day that I get her to say such a thing. Thunder would just love to hear it, don't you think?

Yet, I still have to explain myself to my not-so-younger half-sister, who still remains of a lesser status than me. Guess one has to experience everything in life, huh?

"Look, it's part of the plan a-"

"An allegiance means that all parties involved take every single decision together!" Thanks a lot for the definition, Merriam-Webster... "Now, do you want in or do you want out?"

What sort of a stupid question is that? "Of course I want in! My own future is at stake here!"

"Good!" Oh won't you look at that, she sounds awfully pleased with herself... "Then you'll do as I tell you!"

"Why?"

Last time I checked, I was the one supposed to be giving orders to her and not the other way around. Should I just... let it drop? She's definitely smart enough to realize her mistake by herself at some point. I hope.

"I don't want you to step the wrong foot again!" Yes, I know. I was expecting a more original response as well. But you know what comes next. Some sweet talking never harmed anyone. "It's not that I don't trust you." See? "It's just that I don't trust your... urges."

My... what? Good riddance, is that a remark on my sex life? Well, that's definitely a first... "I can control my urges!"

"Really? Last time I checked, Father was getting you married to the only man in the country under forty who had not yet slept with you!"

Nice try there, Dorothy Zbornak...

As you would expect, I cannot not reply to such a criminal offense. "You're not funny."

"And you're not smart enough."

Fine. I get it. But I still make far better jokes than that Bea Arthur wannabe over there. In fact, I think she'd resemble her a lot. If she was older. And taller. And actually talented in anything other than getting on my nerves for a change.

I guess I could just... hung up. I mean, that's the easiest way to get rid of someone. Not to mention how terribly relaxing it is to close flip phones. It actually does make you feel incredibly powerful. Plus, it's a great way to get rid of the frustration, as I've come to find with that beloved royal family of mine.

Still, I can't help explaining myself. "There's a reason why I did it. I can't tell you exactly what it is, but it's serious. I promise."

Never mind me, I'll just play the drama queen for a little while longer, in the vain hope that she might actually take pity in me for a change.

Yet, by the sound of it, it isn't going to happen any time soon... "Does it have to do with your personal life?"

Please, do tell me that you can also picture her fully dressed, tiara and sashes and all that jazz, in the King's Office in Tatoi, one hand resting against the elbow of the arm with which she's holding the receiver. You do? Oh, splendid. Now, try to imagine Blanche walking towards me with her head and tail down, as she does every single time she is guilty and she knows it. Let's just pretend that Blanche is me for twenty seconds. Now you know what I feel like.

And, as you would expect, a hesitant reply is in order: "Yes..."

"Then whatever it is, it has to stop." I love her precision there. "You may not have realized it yet, but our plan does have to do with your personal life!"

She can go on and on and on, but I've had enough. "See you at Zappeion!"

And just like that, I flip my phone shut. Gosh... This girl is always giving me such a nasty headache. For those few out there who do support her, yes, I am sure it's her to blame and not my tiara. The Rose Crystal actually feels like I'm wearing a hat, even though it doesn't really look like it.

In other news, the people in the sitting room break into applause and Blanche barks in unison. My 'pretty-me-up' team have covered my pet dog in a special blouse to keep her from shredding all over the place and now they're all sitting together, listening to the makeshift concert that Mother is giving. She was playing Strangers In The Night when my darling sister called and long story short, the Sinatra tribute is still going strong. She's playing New York, New York now. Well, I don't blame her for feeling nostalgic really. What I wouldn't give to be back there... We could take a stroll through snowy Central Park, see the windows of all the stores in Fifth Avenue, visit Brooklyn and see all those houses all lit up, see the Christmas trees at the Rockefeller Center and at the MET... Damn, I miss the time my life was very much like one of those cheesy movies set in NYC...

I do have to admit though, Athens is pretty wonderful at Christmas too. But New York overshadows it. Oh, there I go again, comparing incomparable things... Who knows, maybe I could join Mother. We often do play duets together but my skills are a bit rustier than hers, I'm afraid. The last time I played, Ares was self-trapped in here, trying to get on my stupid nerves. Speaking of, he's still nowhere to be found. Or heard. Or seen. Whispered about even, for that matter.

Oh, no. Don't you worry. I won't ruin tonight worrying about him.

New Year's Eve comes but once a year, after all.


6:00 P.M.

East Drawing Room, Palace of Tatoi, Acharnai, East Attica

Clenching his jaw, Poseidon fixed a second glass of whiskey on the rocks. He hated to see his little Pearl like that. Four days had gone by since that fateful night Ares had made that outrageous confession and she had yet to recover from the shock it had left her with. For his part, Poseidon kept trying to convince her that it had been mere nonsense and drunk talk. Amphitrite knew he was lying. Truth be told, he couldn't let it sink in either. He couldn't hide from her. They were sleeping on the same bed after all...

As he threw ice in the two drinks, he contemplated once more whether he should sleep in the adjoining King's Bedroom from now on. For one thing, he'd spare Amphitrite from his endless tossing and turning. Perhaps she'd manage to get enough sleep this way. But it'd be pointless. Sooner or later, they'd find themselves in each other's arms again, seeking solace in each other. It sounded childish, for sure, but that's how they had always coped with the hardships they had faced for as long as they had been together.

Still, he missed her smile. It had been his favourite feature of hers. Her face would glow from happiness, only increasing her already marvelous beauty. In the dark of the night, while everyone had long fallen asleep, he had been trying to think of ways to cheer her up. Thankfully, the Queen's Bedroom was spacious enough to afford them all the privacy they needed. He had tried everything, from pulling funny faces and whispering shocking jokes in her ear to tickling her all over. But she'd either look the other way, turn her back to him or, even worse, give him the same reassuring smirk that she gave to the rest of the family every time they asked her if she was alright. Poseidon despised it with all his might. He was her husband, for heaven's sake! He knew her better than anyone else in this world and he could read her like an open book. Or so he liked to think, at least. Yet, every time she turned to herself, he felt pointless. Like she was keeping a secret from him.

Things would have been far easier for them if they were on their own in Tatoi or, even better, if they were at their own home in Porto Heli right now. For one thing, they wouldn't have had to deal with their relatives that way. Somehow, speculation had arisen both among them and the staff about him and Amphitrite's odd behaviour. According to their genius, either Amphitrite had had a pregnancy scare or she and Poseidon had been trying for a third child but to no avail. That explained the disapproving icy stares Hestia had been throwing Poseidon every single time he joined them in the Dining Room then. Adding insult to injury, she kept implying how her sister-in-law was too old for that kind of thing and "just because Hera and Demeter had children at that age, doesn't mean it ought to become a family tradition." Poseidon would love to lash out one day and tell her the whole truth, but he couldn't. Amphitrite had made him promise no one else would find out about Ares and Aphrodite, except for Zeus and Hera. At the end of the day, they were still their parents. They could stop it before it was too late. But in either case, Poseidon was prepared to take yet another bullet for his beloved nephew instead of letting him untangle himself from the mess that he had made by himself. Thankfully, they didn't have to worry about Rhode and Triton. Their father had threatened to cut their holidays short if they dared ask any questions about the things they heard, especially to their mother's face.

Taking the drinks in his hands, Poseidon walked towards his wife. She was sitting on the heavy Edwardian sofa across the room, staring at her hands absentmindedly. He stopped halfway through to take in the sight. She looked astonishing. Heck, breathtaking even! In her beautiful gown, her lavish jewels, and the blue sash of the Order of Queen Gaia across her body, she rather resembled those old-fashioned royal portraits. Normally, he'd also think how he hated that sash with the matching star of the Order pinned on her left hip. They were a harsh reminder that Amphitrite also belonged to the Crown. And who represented it? Right. His stupid younger brother.

Still, tonight came but once a year. It'd be a great pity if Amphitrite wouldn't enjoy it and he'd hate himself if he did not at least try to help her.

He handed her one glass, certain that she'd leave it untouched. She had told him time and again how much she despised whiskey on the rocks because of its funny smell. Nevertheless, she looked like she needed something strong. Badly.

Much to his surprise, she took a long sip at once, closing her eyes in disgust as she did so. He was about to do the same but her voice stopped him: "Be careful. You don't want to spoil your sash."

He chuckled. "I hope you don't say the same thing to Rhode and Triton, Dolphin. They'll never leave their rooms otherwise."

Setting the glass on her coffee table nearby, Amphitrite fiddled with the fabric of her skirt. "Maybe we shouldn't have let Rhode take part in the interviews segment this year," she said staring as her fingers played with the taffeta. "Girls that age... You know what they can be like."

Poseidon brought his arm around her neck and drew her close. He knew why she was doing that. She wanted to change the subject, as if that would somehow make the issue at hand dissolve into thin air. She had acted like that quite a lot these past few days. Amphitrite rested her head on his shoulder, not caring that she might ruin her hair or misplace her tiara.

"They have interviewed the guests since they were seven," he reassured her. "They're quite the professionals now. At least Triton won't throw his mike into Zeus' tomato soup ever again!"

Amphitrite chuckled. It lasted only for a moment, yet Poseidon felt like he had just heard the prettiest sound. But it wasn't enough. He still missed the sound of her laughter. There had to be a way he could get it out of her somehow.

Suddenly, he noticed a wooden stereo cabinet a short distance away from the buffet where he had fixed their drinks. Bingo! That thing was almost forty years old, but it still played music. As a matter of fact, he might have kept that record somewhere... Their collection of vinyl discs was actually one of the very few things they had brought back to Greece from London after the Monarchy was restored and their time in exile had ended.

Much to Amphitrite's disappointment, he broke their embrace and approached it. She kept her eyes fixed on him out of curiosity. She suspected what he had in mind and she hoped that he wouldn't do it. But when she saw Poseidon open a small door and rummage through the old records, she laughed to herself.

Foolish her! What was stopping him?

"Aha!" he exclaimed, pulling out an old, worn out record. The big red dot on the back side signified that it was one of the oldest items in the royal collection and, as such, they had to treat it very carefully. Yet Poseidon seemed too excited to care about that. He put it on the console immediately. After meddling with the needle until he found the right spot, a familiar melody filled the room:

You can dance

Every dance with the guy who gives you the eye

Let him hold you tight

You can smile

Every smile for the man who held your hand

'Neath the pale moonlight

But don't forget who's takin' you home

And in whose arms you're gonna be

So darlin' save the last dance for me.

Amphitrite brought her hand to her lips, trying to stifle her giggles. Out of all the songs that he could have picked...! She still cringed at the memory of drunk Poseidon singing it right outside her window at her parents' home in Naxos with a loudspeaker as his mike, a very strong Greek accent, and trying to imitate Elvis Priestley's dancing in the most terrible way imaginable. Had she been more confident back in the day, she would have found the whole thing a lot more amusing than she had actually done. No one had ever serenaded her before! On broad daylight no less! But his marvelous rendition had been cut short when her mother had thrown a bucket of cold water right at him to make him stop.

Thankfully, Doris wasn't anywhere near by now and, hopefully, he wouldn't sing again this time around either. Perhaps he had picked that song to cheer her up. He had run out of ways to tell her that she should stop worrying about her nephew and enjoy the rest of the holidays apparently. He could be right. She was spending too much time thinking of other people. It was about time that she just... let go.

Poseidon had noticed the small smile on her lips. He'd be playful, then. Trying to adopt the most regal posture he could muster, he rested his left arm on the small of his back and his right arm on his stomach, fist closed. Yet as he approached her, he stretched it out and opened his hand. Amphitrite looked up.

"M'lady," he grinned. "May I have the honour?" She stared at him for a few seconds, not quite believing that it was the same man and the same song, all those years later. But Poseidon was growing impatient. "It's your last chance to dance with me this year, Pearl."

With a smirk, she let him lead her to the middle of the room. Good for them, there was lots of empty space there for them to move around freely. Poseidon began to sway to the music, holding her close with a steady hand on the small of his back. Amphitrite simply followed his lead. Before she realized it, she felt... lighter. As if the weight she had been carrying on her shoulders had somehow been lifted. She didn't know whether it was Poseidon to blame and neither did she care to find out. Not now, not anymore. For the time being, she was just a woman in a pretty ball gown, swaying to an old song and looking into her husband's eyes. Poseidon was the best partner she could find. He was experienced, for sure, and obedient only when he wanted to be. But still, he was full of surprises. Like this one. And he always remained gentle with her, even though he was harsh at times. She definitely wouldn't want to be with anyone else right now, no matter the easier life they could've offered her.

And the song went on...

Cause don't forget who's takin' you home

And in whose arms you're gonna be

So darlin' save the last dance for me

As the melody began to fade out, she closed her eyes and rested her head against Poseidon's chest. But all of a sudden, she heard a strange sound.

Applause.

But it wasn't Poseidon. He couldn't be embracing her and clapping so enthusiastically at the same time. She must have been dreaming about it, then. It was definitely the whiskey doing tricks on her. Last time she checked, Poseidon was locking the door to make sure that they'd enjoy some time by themselves without being bothered.

But wait... It wasn't just one person clapping. It was louder than that.

She heard a familiar, gentle voice whisper in her ear: "Darling, we've got an audience!"

Stunned, she turned to look behind her, only to come across an extraordinary sight. Rhode, Athena, and Hestia were all standing by the door, beaming proudly. Even Hades was poking his head inside, trying to see what all that fuss was about. She couldn't help blushing. Truth be told, it did feel like they had walked in on her and Poseidon. But her husband had a better idea.

Pinching her hand just a little, he motioned for her to curtsy to them. True to his word, he bowed, as if he wished to lead the way once more. Thankfully, though, Athena rushed to the rescue. "Right," she said, patting on her cousin's shoulder. "Show's over. Come on."

But Rhode wouldn't leave until she said what she had in mind. Freeing herself from Athena's grip, she waited until Poseidon walked up to her and put his arm around her shoulders, like he always did. She didn't waste a second: "Father? Can I tell you something?"

"Sure, darling. Would you like to dance as well?"

"Actually... could you never dance again? Like, ever? I don't know why Mum keeps dancing with you but you're by far the worst dancer I've ever seen!"

That remark received mixed reactions. Hades snickered, Athena tried not to, and Amphitrite gave her husband a reassuring smile. Much as Poseidon disliked to be ridiculed by his very own family, he decided not to pay any further attention on that. He figured that he had better change the subject before it was too late.

His hand still resting protectively on Rhode's shoulder, he asked: "Where's your grandmother?"

"Upstairs," Rhode replied, eager to leave this old house already. "Triton went to find her and she told him she needed to be on her own for a while."

Amphitrite sighed, which Hades noticed. "We still have time," he told her. "Besides, Zeus and Hera will be the first to arrive and, well, we can rest assured that Aphrodite will be fashionably late, as always."

"Well then," she replied, trying to hide her worry about Rhea. "I guess we can always wait for her in the sitting room."

Poseidon looked at Rhode. "Or an angry daughter could dance with her trained father for a change."

She got the message. "For the last time, I'm not dancing with you!"

Poseidon raised his arms in defeat. He had no idea who Rhode had taken after. She had neither her mother's timidity nor his own spark to try out new things. Yet Amphitrite kept reminding him that it was normal for children not to take after their parents when it came to personality.

He was confident, however, that he made a far better father and husband than Zeus.

At least he tried. Which, judging by Athena's behaviour lately, he couldn't say also applied to his younger brother.


Army base, Alexandroupoli, Northern Greece

Ares gave up. Closing the folder in frustration, he leaned back on his chair and let out a frustrated sigh. He had been locked in that goddamn room for hours trying to concentrate on that pile of folders the Colonel asked him to read but no matter how hard he tried to pay attention, his mind kept wandering back to... her.

They were back in that abandoned house. He was chasing after her from room to room. She entered the room where the mattress and the candles were. And just like that, she vanished. Into thin air. Like a ghost.

He was having that dream for the past four days. Her laughter would echo in his ears. It was mocking him all the more each time. He'd see her again tonight. He was sure of it.

But he wouldn't give in. Maybe it was just his body doing tricks on him. If so, he'd find different ways to satisfy that need of his. There were plenty of women out there, both in Greece and abroad, ready to fall on their knees just for him to notice them. He could offer her a life of many privileges and few obligations. Who would be stupid enough to resist him?

Not Eos, that's for sure. She texted him every day for the most random things. Like a needy puppy. He replied to her messages just for the heck of it. He had even promised to see her as soon as he'd be back to Athens. But he wouldn't keep this relationship going for long. He'd break up with her the first chance he got. Women like her made him sick. They were no fun at all if they were willing to succumb to his every wish just like that. He needed them to challenge him. The harder they were to bend, the better. They made victory taste all the sweeter. That's why he was so obsessed with Aphrodite. She was stubborn as a mule, hard as a rock, and one hell of a tough act to follow.

There he was doing it again! Hell, he was the biggest idiot in the planet. She was just a woman, for fuck's sake. No big deal.

But he was still jealous of her. The mere thought that she'd look her best tonight only to be escorted by that... crude Hephaestus was driving him crazy. It was him whose arm she should have been holding on to, he who'd make her laugh by comparing his tux to a 'penguin costume', he who'd put his arm around her and flirt with her in his own, secretive way. Suddenly, he felt the need to smell her perfume again, if only for a few seconds. Just to make sure that she was closer to him than he liked to think.

He laughed to himself. No, that was asking for too much. She was there and he was here. She'd don a tiara tonight and he'd still be in the same uniform he was wearing every day. They belonged in two different worlds now. He was only wasting his time and energy by thinking about her.

Yes, there were plenty of things he could be doing tonight instead. He could drive to town and find an empty bar. He'd spent the night drinking until he'd fall asleep on the counter. Or he'd visit one of those girls he went to often. They'd be more than happy to comfort him on a night like this. Heck, he could even join the small makeshift party in the canteen that the soldiers had arranged. He could listen to their songs echoing through the vast corridor. But he wouldn't be allowed to drink there. He was obliged to set out the good example to those of lower ranking than him.

To hell with them! He'd find a way to make it through the celebrations tonight. The night wouldn't last forever, after all. Besides, he could rest assured that no one would disturb him unless, say, a war was to break out all of a sudden. But that was just as unlikely as Aphrodite being in love with him.

Bringing a cigarette to his lips, he lit it up and let the smoke fill his lungs. He closed his eyes for a moment, wishing that he'd feel nothing when he opened them again.

Nothing at all.

He needed to grow numb to everything. That was the only way to free himself of Aphrodite's accursed charm. But he couldn't. She was making him feel like fire, like he could burn everything to the ground with a simple snap of her fingers. But whereas he was ready to lift up mountains for her sake, she constantly put up an icy wall between them and she kept pushing him back with even more force than he had ever believed tangible for someone like her.

He couldn't take it anymore. He needed to see her. Now.

The tiny portable TV was still in his bottom drawer. It was nearly as big as a radio, had a terrible signal and its batteries could only run for a couple of hours, but it was more than enough for him. All he wanted was to look at her face. To see if she was suffering as much as he did.

Not that she'd show it in public, of course. She was a master at acting. She was probably beaming with pride too every time she thought about him and how much she'd made him suffer. What an idiot he was... Allowing himself to be fooled like that...

Yet, he couldn't find her. All the channels he could tune in featured those stupid live shows with music, dancing, and the most annoying hosts they could find. He wasn't in the mood for some silly chatter and their stupid wishes. He had heard those a thousand times before. But what he needed was a glimpse at Zappeion Megaron. Hell, the New Year's Eve gala that his parents hosted was the most famous and talked-about occasion in this whole fucking country! Why wouldn't those stupid journalists just talk about that already?

He tuned into another channel. There it was. A full shot of the old building with its Grecian colonnade and the row of limousines parked outside. A royal car showed up, decorated with the Greek flag that featured a small golden crown in the middle. It was Zeus and Hera. Of course they were the first to appear. They had to greet their guests. As tradition declared.

Aphrodite wouldn't show up anytime soon by the looks of it. As always. She'd go to great lengths to ensure that she'd be the centre of attention.

But she deserved it.

Damn well she did.

Screw it. If she could enjoy this bloody evening, so could he.

He threw the TV back into the drawer and stomped out the cigarette on the floor. One of the soldiers would take care of it later.

The laughter and music became louder as he approached the canteen. There'd be no drinking for him tonight. It might be better this way. Perhaps he wouldn't dream of her tonight for a change. Plus, he'd have a bit of a fun later on as well.

What the heck was wrong with that?


The Queen's bedroom, Palace of Tatoi, Acharnai, East Attica

Rhea brought a gloved hand to her chest. Standing still for a few minutes, she paid attention to her breathing and the sound of her heartbeat. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

What an astonishing thing it was, knowing that she was still alive...

Yet it scared her. It brought back memories. Cronus' heavy footsteps echoing in the corridor... Her hiding under the sheets, praying that it was all a bad dream... That she was just a little girl... And this world was far, far away...

But it wasn't. She was right here, in the very room where she had spent all those terrifying nights. These walls had heard her muffled cries for help, they had seen the tears rolling down her face... It was by that very window that she had stayed up until the early morning hours, dreaming about and planning her escape...

She could hardly recognize it now. The bed had changed, as had the colour on the walls. A different kind of perfume was lingering in the air, the one that Amphitrite always wore. She was the mistress of the tower now. Her own clothes were hanging in the boudoir and it was her jewels that were scattered all over the dressing table.

As if the past could be rewritten... As if everything could start all over again...

Perhaps that was the secret to survival after all. Moving on. Putting things behind you. Forgetting...

Rhea had been trying to do so for years. She had moved to Crete in a desperate attempt to escape. The tranquility of her small estate and a predictable life of routine seemed ideal for her at first. At long last, she'd be free to do whatever she wanted, go wherever she pleased... Every morning, she took long strolls along the beach. Then, she tended to her flowers and vegetables. Some friends came over for visit. Her staff treated her like an old lady and she scolded them for doing so...

But that's exactly what she was. Most of her grandchildren would soon have children of their own. Her hair had turned white, her face was full of wrinkles... She had to confront them every time she looked into the mirror. Like a curse she couldn't hide from...

Yet here she was. Listening to the sound of her own heartbeat. Overwhelmed by the magic of her very own breathing...

Tonight, she felt young again. She knew what it was. Anticipation. Eagerness. Impatience. Enthusiasm.

Life.

The night before, right before she had closed her eyes, she had made a promise to herself. It sounded crazy. Still, she was determined to fulfill it.

Hopefully, her children wouldn't stop her.

Walking towards the full-length mirror, she kept her eyes fixed at her reflection. She could not recognize that old woman who was staring back at her. She was wearing a wonderful long purple gown and heavy jewelery. Even makeup...

She seemed lost. Like she did not belong to that world. Not anymore...

Her face looked familiar. She had seen it in an old photograph. That girl was wearing the exact same ornaments. She was smiling innocently, as if that could erase her future sadness.

Easier said than done...

With trembling hands, the old lady removed the heavy jewel on her head. She turned it carefully and stared at it for a while. The Antique Flame Tiara. As old as the country itself. That's how Queen Gaia had described it when she had passed it down to her. Like the equivalent of a crown, it'd be passed down from Queen to Queen for generations. The endless line of its succession had stopped at her. She took the blame for that.

It had been presumed lost since 1968, when the Royal Family had been urged by the military regime to flee the country for Rome. She remembered that night well. They had packed their personal belongings in a hurry, making sure to take all the royal jewels with them. Everything had been happening too fast for anyone to think. They had been obligated to leave before midnight. Or else.

What? No one knew. They were never told.

She marveled at its beauty and majesty. It was a great piece of art, an excellent array of silver metal and ivory diamonds, round and big on the top and bottom yet smaller in the middle. Two aquamarine stones stood out at the very front. The Flame still shone bright, even after all these years...

She had rescued it by hiding it underneath her clothes. She had held the suitcase tight, all the while fearing that she might lose her children in the crowd. Reporters had stood in their way, taking pictures and asking them questions... Their guards had been trying to clear the road for them... There had been light, too much light for the dark of the night and the sound from the plane engines had been nothing short of deafening.

Yet she had held it close to her chest. As if her life had depended upon it.

That's what she had believed back then.

Years ago, when she had been pregnant to Hades, she had wished to sell it. Somehow, she'd have managed to feign robbery and she'd have been able to flee Greece with her two daughters the soonest possible. The Antique Flame had definitely been worth the price of three one-way tickets to Australia, plus enough money for them to get by until they could settle down. Looking back, it had been a crazy idea. Sooner or later, she'd have been tracked down. Cronus wouldn't have been merciful. The Crown Princess couldn't just... disappear. Especially when she was obviously carrying the heir to the throne...

Still, it had been a dream. Something to look forward to...

It gave her hope.

At the end of the day, that's all it came down to. That's all that truly mattered.

Had she wasted her life? Since she could remember herself, she had been doing other people's bidding. Her parents, who had never forgotten their noble background, had groomed her to become the perfect young lady. Sometimes, when she knelt on the ground in her garden, she could still hear her mother scolding her for getting her hands dirty. When she had grown up, she had restored some of their forgone Romanov glory by marrying the future King. She had now become her husband's property. For twenty years, she had had to endure his venomous desires. Every night, she had clenched her teeth and succumbed to his every wish, trying to endure the pain.

Yes, she had been reluctant. She had suffered in silence. But she had done her duty.

That had been all that mattered, hadn't it? But not anymore. In the end, everything seemed to have found its right place. Her children were happy in their own, twisted ways. All of her grandchildren respected her, even though she was very much a stranger to them. Her daughters-in-law loved her and cared for her, even though they didn't know her well. Better yet, she had even started to forget what her husband looked like...

At long last, she was free.

Or so she thought. Until last night.

She couldn't remember when the nightmares had started. It may have been three years ago, if not more. Each night, she'd wake up covered in sweat, panting and feeling how her heart beat wild. She had come to think that she'd die this way. Sooner or later, one of those dreams would have given her the final blow..

Recently, she kept having the same vision. Cronus' footsteps echoed down the corridor, becoming louder with each passing second. She was lying on her bed, a young girl of twenty again, dreading the speed of time. The door flung open. But instead of him, a monster showed up. With six arms, six legs, and five heads. He didn't approach her. Someone was holding him back. Despite the darkness, she could recognize Zeus and Poseidon. They were fully grown men and dressed like the kings they were never born to become. They were threatening to kill him. But, suddenly, Hades stood by her side and told her to look at her hands. She was holding a knife... She was trembling all over. She couldn't do it. Yet her sons were urging her to. They were encouraging her to attack him. She was the only one who could...

Amphitrite had once again stopped her hallucination, as she had done every single night since she and Poseidon had traveled to Crete the month before. She had held her close, reassuring her that everything would be alright. But Rhea had not believed her. No matter what she had said...

She looked out of the window. For a fleeting moment, she had wondered what it might have felt like. To open it... and jump down... She'd never see the sun again. She'd never stroll along the beach or hear the sound of her loved ones' voice. She'd no longer sit on the sand and stare at the Aegean Sea for hours, reminiscing the island she had grown up in. She'd never smile at the memory of little Zeus running around barefoot, happy that his mommy had come for a visit.

She stared at her reflection again. The stranger in the purple gown was still staring back at her. They resembled each other a lot - like twin sisters. But they were strangers to each other. Rhea wanted nothing to do with that woman. She was a coward who had fallen from grace. Someone who had been trying to cover her fear underneath fine silk, soft satin, and sparkling diamonds...

What had she done to deserve such a life? She didn't know. Neither could she waste precious time trying to figure it out. It may have been a sign, like those demonstrations on her wedding day sixty years ago. It was a different era back then, which now existed only in black and white. Her grandchildren could read all about it in the family archives and their history books. But she was still here. A living relic of another time, cursed in the eternal charm of being associated with the "glorious" past...

And yet... she felt like she had hardly lived at all.

Outwardly, she looked like she had found her peace at last. But there was still an open wound, deep inside her. It strained her of her remaining strength little by little, digging its nails into her skin and sucking the rest of her life out of her. One day at a time.

There was only one way for it to stop. For the wound to heal.

Her family didn't have to know. Especially Zeus. They'd try to pull her back and keep her from doing such an outrageous thing.

But they didn't know. They didn't have to.

She placed the tiara back on her head and fixed her posture. Now she resembled her reflection a little bit more. That stranger in that other world, the coward, was staring back at her. She was smiling...

Better late than never. She had spent years, decades even, preparing for her catharsis. She had chosen her most favourite place in all the land, for mustering up the courage took a lot more strength than she thought it would.

Yet she would not step back. Not now. Not after all she'd been through.

The time had come. After all, she didn't have much life left to live...

It was her final wish. The first and last favour she'd ever do to herself. The final promise to the girl she used to be.

Her most sacred duty.

No, not to the country. To herself.

She wasn't ready. Truth be told, she'd never be. But she knew that she had to do it. The soonest possible.

No matter what it took...