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The fingers tightened, and Hera decided that words were perhaps unnecessary. She could undo Nemesis with another use of her mouth. She took the pulsing clit between her lips and sucked all the while allowing her tongue to flick back and forth over the very tip. Nemesis’s moans and whimpers were the only sounds coming from the bedroom for the longest time. Hera was very proud of herself.

10

WHERE THE THIRD BULLET POINT OF THE PLAN IS ACCOMPLISHED (AND THE EMPRESS FINDS IT DECIDEDLY UNSATISFACTORY…)

Hera obtained the Queen of Diamonds in the most unexpected of ways. She’d even consider the ways unwanted, when all was said and done.

Since her weekend spent in bed with Nemesis, with all the surprising things that had fallen into her lap, literally and metaphorically, she was impressed with how fast her lover had lined up the plan stages. There was no hesitation. Each step was executed to perfection. And the next step seemed to be an art heist.

“You did say he cared about that collection of his.”

Nemesis was tying some sort of rope around her midriff and sliding tools into a belt that looked more crime than construction. Hera wondered aloud about it.

“It’s because it is crime. I’m not the Goddess of Building things. Hephaestus would be more suitable for that.”

Wringing her hands, Hera stood by Nemesis, feeling just a touch worried. No. Not worried. Preoccupied.

“I’m currently incommunicado with him,” she said, and sidestepped the curious glance from Nemesis. But the glance did not disappear. In fact, it lingered, daring her to speak. When she remained silent, it simply demanded the truth.

“I’ve been… Less than a good mother to him. Ares too. So… I’m giving them space. Breathing room. What? It’s not unheard of⁠—”

“It is. It is when it’s you. Meddling is your middle name.”

“No, it’s not. It’s Teleia. Meaning The Perfect. Or the Flawless, the Fulfilled. And what is that supposed to mean?”

Hera heard the slight panic in her own tone. What was happening to her? Since when did anyone read her this well? This easily? Sure, good sex did bring people, gods, and all matters of other creatures closer, but this was too much. Too close⁠—

“It’s the most perfect middle name for you, you know?” Nemesis kissed her on the forehead, and Hera felt her knees start to give in.

The door to the penthouse opened, and Clio walked in, her unhurried steps slowed even further by the high pile of ancient tomes she was carrying.

Nemesis gave Hera a long look before turning her attention to the Muse of History. Hera exhaled quietly. There was no need to let anyone know she was relieved by the space suddenly appearing between them. Because she wasn’t. Nope. She just didn’t want to talk about any of this.

“You’re late.” Nemesis’s voice did not carry any malice. The matter-of-fact statement made the muse grin.

“I have my own timeline. Historical privilege and all that.”

Hera almost laughed. She had forgotten that the Muse of History had a wicked sense of humor. Well, with everything going on around them, she’d have to, Hera mused.

Nemesis was pointing to the tomes and then to the desk in the corner of Hera’s office.

“What is my home housing then? Stolen artifacts?” She smiled, but Clio’s eyes went shrewd.

“No, those will be quietly returned to their rightful owners. If they’re dead with no heirs, returned to Greece or whatever country might have a claim of provenance.”

Hera stared. Nemesis lifted an eyebrow.

“Did you want them, or something? You only said he needed to lose them, so⁠—”

“No, no, rightful owners it is.” Hera bit her lip. She was absurdly touched by the care clearly given to… well, everything.

“Good. The tomes are for identification purposes once we bring them back. At least the smaller items. I am currently between abodes, humble and otherwise. So I hope you don’t mind?”

Clio motioned to the desk. Hera sighed. Sure, whatever. Tomes, stolen artifacts, her missing dignity, unwanted questions. Everything could just live in her apartment.

“Were you not based in London?” She did not know why she was asking. She’d never really interacted with Clio. Too smart. Too all-seeing, in that way muses had. Erato was the same, but she covered it up with her silly virile bravado. Though Hera had to admit that both muses had writing talent. She’d give them that much.

“London is…” Clio trailed off, then glanced at Nemesis from under long lashes. Revenge rolled her eyes.