The God-King who had, at every moment and every fraction of a moment, been yearning, hoping, and coveting at last arrived.
The Goddess of Night sprang to her feet, her skirts falling like a cascade. Her figure swayed as she was about to rush, heedless of all else, to the side of the God-King she missed so deeply.
Yet at the very step of crossing the threshold, she forced herself to halt.
On her lovely face, as noble and delicate as a night-blooming cereus, light and shadow chased each other.
In her long-lashed eyes flashed a hint of sternness, and her dark, slender lips pressed tight.
With a heavy, cold snort, she sat down again.
But the instant she sat, the anxiety in her heart curled back like a tidal bore, slapping higher and higher.
She knew—she knew—the beloved God-King must have come for her.
But… what if?
What if he were only passing through on urgent business, here in haste and gone in a rush?
What then should she do?
Zeus, Zeus, my Zeus—
You hateful scoundrel!
Seated, the Goddess of Night was sheathed in chill, yet the thoughts on her pretty face swayed like blossoming branches.
In one breath she hated, in the next she blamed, then she worried, then she secretly rejoiced.
She wanted to pin him to the divine throne and scold him without end, yet also to wrap her arms around his neck and pour out her longing.
So much so that Hemera, the gentlest goddess of daylight by her side, was growing flustered.
Dear Mother had been far too unstable of late.
This did not match at all the majestic, serene, self-contained sovereign of night from her memory.
In the past, Mother would grow angry and her mood would shift, but those changes were subtle, and her joys and angers always had causes.
And those emotions were always fully under her control.
But lately her mood had soared and plunged, falling from the sky to the ground and flying up again.
It was now obvious: Mother really couldn't quite control her emotions!
That was truly terrifying!
The embodiment of supreme and noble Night, the Mistress of Night—she was one of the most fundamental sources of law in the cosmos!
If she erupted, the consequences were unthinkable.
Likely no one but His Majesty the God-King could stop her.
Her siblings nearby had long since found one excuse or another and slipped away.
Anywhere would do—so long as they weren't by Mother's side.
In truth, she herself wanted to retreat too…
Only…
She was the "surprise"…
That… was hard to bow out of…
Besides… she missed the God-King so very much!
The more Hemera thought, the more she panicked; the more she panicked, the likelier she was to slip up.
Her once steady aura frayed slightly from excessive tension.
Only for an instant, almost imperceptible.
But this tiny change, before Lady Night as she was now, was as glaring as noon sunlight.
In the next moment, the Goddess of Night's deep gaze fell upon Hemera.
Hemera's heart lurched once, then again.
Lady Night's expression shifted once more.
She suddenly called softly to Hemera: "Hemera."
"Here! Mother, I'm here!" Hemera jolted and answered at once.
Lady Night waved lightly, signaling her not to be nervous.
She saw right through her children's little thoughts.
Inwardly, she was exasperated and amused.
These children, loved by her yet long cowed in the old days, were truly too timid.
No matter how angry she was, how could she possibly do anything to her own children?
It was all Zeus's fault!
Whatever resentment she had, she would vent it on him alone!
At the thought of Zeus, waves of grievance surged through the Goddess of Night.
Sorrow, gloom, and blame—like three parallel bitter dark rivers—crowded in her chest, splashing bitterness along the banks of her heart.
But thoughts were thoughts; there was still business to do.
She drew a deep breath, shook her head slightly to cast off her grievances for now, and said gently, "Hemera, Zeus is here."
"Ah?!" At this news, Hemera started, then grew both startled and delighted; after surprise and delight came shyness and fear. Complex expressions flickered across her clear features.
Mm… just like her mother…
Before she could speak, Lady Night went on: "Originally, our plan was… hmm…"
Here she paused. The cool, alabaster planes of her face sank slightly; her expression clearly darkened.
"But now, I think the plan needs a small change."
"We can't let Zeus off so cheaply! He went too far this time."
"We must make him realize his mistake—and we absolutely can't just let it slide."
"You go to Aitron (the Moon of the Underworld) and keep Hecate company for a while. And be ready—watch for my message at all times."
Hemera felt a twinge of disappointment, but obediently nodded, turned into a formless white light, and sped toward the Underworld Moon.
Disappointed, yes—but also a bit relieved. The pressure had been truly heavy at Mother's side lately.
The moment her good daughter left, the posture Lady Night had been holding up collapsed with a whoosh.
She was restless—standing, then sitting, then standing again—until at last she stood and paced anxiously within her temple.
Her flawless, peerless face was overcast one moment and bright the next; her cloudlike brows knit and loosened.
Her proud, full curves rose and fell with her quick breaths, like moonlight rippling.
Her thoughts churned like an undercurrent, impossible to still:
Be tough!
Make him understand I am not a Night to be summoned and dismissed at whim!
If I beg you to come and you dawdle, then don't bother coming at all!
But…
Is that too tough?
What if I'm too tough and I scare him off, and he turns on his heel…
And if I just bow my head and give in…
Um…
Though she didn't really mind.
It would still sit bitter in her heart.
No!
He has to come first!
This time, don't expect me to go out and meet you!
He also has to admit he was wrong first!
This time he can't just "say a few nice words, give a couple of kisses, hold me for a bit," and get away with it!
This time she had to make that hateful, infuriating, lovable God-King know, plainly and clearly: Night can be angry too!
After that…
Fine, fine—I'll just hold him tighter and give him more of what he likes to eat.
But even as she thought so, the Goddess of Night's heart pounded like drums; she still couldn't make up her mind.
She had sent off her beloved daughter, saying she didn't want to let Zeus off cheaply.
But in truth, she herself couldn't decide how to face this God-King who was both hateful and loved beyond bearing.
In front of her beloved God-King, saving face didn't matter.
But in front of the children, dignity mattered a great deal!
After only a few breaths of fretting, she was already at wit's end.
At the God-King's speed, he should already be at her temple!
Why wasn't he here yet?
He… he couldn't really be here on other business and only detouring through the Underworld, could he?!
The thought fell like a boulder into her heart's lake, splashing up waves that capsized what little composure remained in her chest.
Lady Night's heart lurched up and down. She pondered, then pondered again.
The reins of reason and the wild horse of anxiety wrestled fiercely in the depths of her divinity.
In the end, she bit her silver teeth—and the reins snapped…
Noble as she was, she still, against her better judgment, decided to go and "grab" that beloved God-King first!
If he really turned and left again, it would be too late to say anything.
The dignified Lady of Night scolded herself in her heart:
Nyx, oh Nyx, how have you become so undignified?
Where have your habitual poise and calm gone?
Ugh! How has that scoundrel gotten such a tight hold on you?
What, can you really not live without him?
But no matter how she thought and how she scolded herself, worry was worry and resentment was resentment—her movements didn't slow a bit.
With a distinctly girlish stamp of her foot, she immediately followed that most familiar, most yearned-for aura.
In fact, all of this was within Zeus's plan.
When he entered the Underworld and found that the Goddess of Night had not appeared to meet him at once,
he was certain this proud eternal goddess had a little notion of being hard on him this time.
So he deliberately slowed his steps, ambling toward the Temple of Night.
Along the way, he even took a leisurely interest in inspecting the Underworld's development—unhurried, unflustered, not the least bit anxious.
This philandering God-King knew all too well:
In the tug-of-war between man and woman, the more you take the initiative, the more you're on the back foot.
Whoever gets antsy, loses.
The one who rushes in ends up squarely at the other's mercy.
Besides, how proud and noble is the Goddess of Night?
Aloft as she was—self-regarding and proud—well, she had simply met her match in him.
Had it been anyone else bold enough to provoke her like this, she would have ground them to dust, body and soul, ten thousand times over.
But precisely because of that noble station and proud nature, he couldn't cater to her in all things.
Otherwise, greedy Night would only push further.
The notion of "quitting while ahead" did not exist in Lady Night's divinity at all.
A goddess of her type had to have her heartstrings plucked hard, back and forth.
Near and far by turns, cold then warm—she had to be sternly schooled.
Otherwise, she could never be held down.
To think you could conquer a supreme and eternal goddess like Lady Night with mere "warmth" and "tenderness"—don't even dream of it.
As for those so-called "nice guys"…
They rank below a dog.
______
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