It was a joyful day for Hera.
She stood before her mirror, tilting her chin this way and that, carefully studying her reflection.
She adjusted the fall of her silver hair, smoothing it over her shoulders, then fixed the clasp of her gown until it sat just right.
Her fingers lingered on the edge of the fabric, her lips curving in quiet satisfaction.
Today was her date with Hades—or as she stubbornly called it, an "inspection."
The word made her feel safe, kept things proper, but she could not deny the warmth that spread through her chest every time she thought of him waiting for her.
Once she was satisfied, she exhaled, almost giddy, and turned into a beam of golden light.
Her radiance cut through the air as she soared toward Hades' Fortress, which hung like a great black citadel over the City of Nox.
Her heels clicked against the polished stone floor when she landed.
She walked the fortress halls with her usual dignity, back straight, expression composed.
