Chapter 39Some mortals called the little wench the lady of Kythira. Personally Hera found the title rather crass, but she couldn’t fault Aphrodite’s choice of home. Kythira was a little island tucked away to the south of the Greek mainland. A waterfall whispered through Aphrodite’s grove, blue rills reflecting the heavens above. The scent of myrtle flowers filled the air. She scarcely had time to admire the scenery, for she found a pair of bright green eyes glaring at her as soon as she materialised.
‘What do you want, Hera?’
‘Straight to business, Aphrodite? As you wish.’ She paused. ‘I underestimated you. I thought you nothing but a silly girl, jealous over a beauty pageant. It never occurred to me that you were Zeus’s deadliest weapon. Despite all my efforts, that boy of yours has rea
