Atop Mount Olympus, the atmosphere in the God-King's palace was not as joyful as the outside world imagined, but filled with a subtle tension.
Zeus sat on his throne of thunder, his golden eyes carefully scrutinizing the few important goddesses in the hall.
He had just raised a matter—the consideration of a Queen of Olympus.
A God-King needed a suitable wife; it concerned not only emotions but also the stability and authority of the divine system.
However, what he received in response was not eagerness, but a silence laced with their own calculations, and... a faint hint of barely perceptible mockery.
"Queen of Heaven?" Hera was the first to break the silence.
The corners of her mouth curved into a perfect arc, but her eyes were cold as ice.
"Zeus, do you think I still care about the so-called title of 'queen' tied to you, one that requires me to constantly monitor your 'romances'?"
Her voice was not loud, but it clearly echoed in the temple, with an unmistakable sarcasm.
After experiencing the solemn wedding in Hades and personally feeling the leap in power of the marriage god, Hera's vision had long since diverged from the past.
An empty reputation was far less valuable than the power in one's own hands.
Zeus's face darkened. Hera's direct confrontation displeased him, and he also felt a slight anger at the challenge to his authority.
"Hera, watch your words. The dignity of the Queen of Heaven symbolizes..."
"Symbolizes restraint, compromise, and endless troubles."
Hera interrupted him and stood up. The divine light of marriage radiated around her with inviolable solemnity.
"Instead of being your queen, Zeus, I am more interested in the identity of the 'witness'."
She looked at the God-King with sharp eyes: "Imagine, the union of the God-King and the Queen of Heaven, personally witnessed and blessed by me, the patroness of marriage! What a grand ceremony that would be! The increase in power it would bring me is far better than an ethereal crown that can be erased at any moment due to your fickle heart!"
This was what Hera truly wanted.
In the name of the goddess of marriage, she wanted to incorporate the God-King's marriage into her authority, to draw greater divine power.
She did not want to become Zeus's vassal, but to be a presence that he and all of Olympus would have to rely on and revere in matters of marriage.
Zeus gripped the armrest of his throne, thunder gathering at his fingertips. Hera's ambition and directness both shocked and angered him.
He had thought that with the power and charm of the God-King, it would be enough to make Hera swoon like the other goddesses, but he had not expected to hit such a hard nail.
In the corner of the temple, Hestia, who had been quietly observing, silently transformed into the soft flame of a hearth and vanished the moment Zeus brought up the matter.
She had no interest in power struggles; her purpose was guarding the flame and the peace of the family.
She slipped away neatly, as if she had never been there.
And Demeter, the goddess of agriculture, a goddess with a relatively generous nature, looked at the two before her and sighed helplessly.
She tried to mediate, her voice soft and soothing: "Zeus, Hera, why argue like this? Whether it's the position of Queen of Heaven or the right to witness marriage, it's all for the prosperity of Olympus. Perhaps we can think about it in the long term..."
Her words were like a spring breeze, trying to defuse the tense atmosphere.
Demeter was not overly greedy for power; she was content as long as her grain could flourish on the earth. At this moment, she was more like a peacemaker, trying to resolve conflicts between brothers and sisters.
On the other side, Leto, the goddess of care, lowered her eyes, her slender fingers unconsciously twisting the corner of her robe.
She was torn. As a goddess who had long been devoted to Zeus and was pregnant with his offspring, she dreamed of a more stable position.
However, she also clearly felt the flat, dismissive glance Zeus swept over her.
Zeus didn't need to win over a god who was clearly on his side.
Her value, in Zeus's eyes, might be limited to the child in her womb. This realization saddened her, but she dared not show it.
The atmosphere in the temple did not ease after Demeter's mediation. The confrontation between Hera and Zeus stemmed from a deeper grievance.
Long before the overthrow of Cronus's power, Hera had gathered a group of followers through her charm and skill, forming her initial power base.
She was not a rootless duckweed, nor a silken flower that could only survive by clinging to Zeus.
And Zeus, in his usual way, had also tried to conquer this dazzling and independent goddess.
Once upon a time, he had shown her affection, praised her face and wisdom with the most beautiful words, and promised to share the glory of Olympus.
However, Hera had simply looked at him calmly with clear eyes and unhesitatingly refused his pursuit.
Her pride would not allow her to be one of Zeus's numerous lovers, even if he promised her the queenship.
Failure did not make Zeus give up.
He imitated the tricks he used to pursue other goddesses, transforming into a cuckoo with magnificent feathers, pretending to be injured and shivering on a rainy day, trying to fall into Hera's warm embrace, seeking comfort and closeness.
If it had been in the past, Hera might have felt a little pity because of this small 'accident' and let Zeus succeed.
But now, things were different: after the baptism of the underworld wedding, her divine power and perception had been greatly enhanced.
The moment the 'cuckoo' was about to touch her robe, Hera's eyes flashed with cold light. She precisely grabbed the bird by the neck, and divine power flashed, instantly forcing Zeus's body out.
The handsome God-King appeared before her with slight embarrassment, a trace of surprise on his face.
Hera coldly released her hand, as if trying to shake off dust.
"Put away your tricks, Zeus. They might fool naive nymphs, but they won't work on me."
There was no wavering in her voice, only pure contempt.
"Your admiration is as cheap as the morning mist over a mountain stream, dissipating at the sight of light. Instead of wasting time on these tedious pretenses, think about how you can fulfill your duties as God-King."
After this incident, their relationship completely plummeted to freezing point.
Zeus was deeply humiliated, and Hera was even more resolute in having nothing to do with him emotionally.
She could cooperate with him, could work for the common good of Olympus, but she would never pledge him loyalty, let alone love.
At this moment, the confrontation in the temple was a continuation of these complex relationships.
Zeus looked at Hera's posture, unable to advance and even slightly surpassing him, and the anger in his chest, along with a certain contemptuous madness, was barely containable.
He was the God-King! The ruler of Olympus! Why was Hera so arrogant? Only because of that underworld wedding? Only because she relied on Hades's support behind her back?
At the thought of Hades, that familiar feeling of fear and humiliation flooded his mind again, like poisonous flames burning his reason.
He stared at Hera, as if wanting to completely shatter her proud shell with his gaze.
Hera looked back without fear, and the power of the marriage god formed an invisible barrier around her, silently dissolving the God-King's coercion emanating from Zeus.
Demeter watched the exchange of glances between them, which nearly sparked, and helplessly rubbed her brow.
She knew that today's discussion was doomed to be fruitless. The power structure of Olympus, due to Hera's rise and Hades's looming shadow, was becoming increasingly unstable.
And this storm surrounding the position of Queen of Heaven was only the beginning.
Zeus would not be willing to accept defeat, nor would he give up pursuing Hera.
The future of Olympus was not destined to be peaceful.
In this seemingly magnificent temple, a great storm concerning power, marriage, and dignity was quietly brewing.
The frustration and anger in Zeus's heart needed a new outlet, and on earth, the Bronze men, created by his own hands but gradually slipping from his control, might become his next target for catharsis...