Chapter 230: Chapter 74
On the hanging fortress of Hades, where black stone walls gleamed with an otherworldly luster and golden chandeliers burned with ghostly flames that never dimmed, a grand dining hall stretched vast and imposing, its ceiling high enough to vanish into shadow.
At the center of the long table carved from obsidian, the King of the Underworld sat in his quiet majesty, while on either side of him rested the three goddesses who had bound themselves to his fate—Aphrodite, Hera, and Hecate.
Divine spirits, their forms radiant yet subdued, glided silently across the hall, balancing trays of delicacies, pouring shimmering wines into golden goblets, and setting platters of meat roasted to perfection upon the table.
Aphrodite, in her usual manner, could not let the silence linger.
With a playful smirk tugging at her lips, she leaned forward, her eyes glimmering with mischievous delight as she asked the two women across from her about their time together with Hades, her words lilting like a song yet barbed with mischief.
"So then," she said sweetly, "how was your little date? You both should really thank me for being so generous, you know. Without me, neither of you would have had such a chance. You should be calling me your big sister already."
Hera’s eyes narrowed dangerously, her back stiffening, her chin lifting with the imperious dignity of the Queen of Underworld.
She regarded Aphrodite with utter disdain, her lips curling as if the very words offended her ears.
Though, deep in her heart, she knew there was truth in Aphrodite’s boast. For all her bitterness and pride, she could not deny that without Aphrodite’s cunning and brazenness, she herself might never have crossed this threshold, might never have found her place here beside Hades.
But Hera would sooner break her tongue than admit gratitude openly. So instead, she lashed out with venom, spitting the words like poison.
"Shut your mouth, you dumb goddess."
Aphrodite froze, then pouted dramatically, her full lips pursed, her arms folding beneath her chest as she stomped one foot like a spoiled child, whining in protest.
"Unbelievable! After everything I’ve done, after all the trouble I went through for you, you still insult me? I am the big sister here! I deserve respect! You ought to show me some proper gratitude instead of hurling such nasty words."
Her voice, though filled with mock anger, carried a note of genuine hurt, as if some part of her still longed for acknowledgment beyond her games.
Hecate, ever the one to observe with weary patience, exhaled a long sigh, her eyes narrowing not with anger but with quiet resignation.
She lifted her gaze to Hera, her voice calm but firm as she said, "That’s enough. Don’t take it too far. Aphrodite did help us in her own way, even if she’s too loud about it."
Her words were not filled with affection but with a fair recognition of truth, and though her tone was cool, it cut through the childish bickering like a blade.
Hera gave a small snort in response, tossing her hair back with regal arrogance.
Yet, though her lips curled in disdain, she gave a shallow nod, the gesture barely noticeable, but enough for Aphrodite to seize upon it like a victory.
At once, Aphrodite’s entire demeanor changed, her face lighting up as if the entire hall had brightened with her joy.
With a delighted squeal, she rose from her seat, her movements languid yet overflowing with energy, and strutted toward Hecate with a triumphant sway of her hips.
Throwing her arms around the goddess of magic from behind, she hugged her tightly, pressing her voluptuous figure against Hecate with playful exaggeration.
"Ah, Hecate! You’re far too kind and far too good to me. From now on, you’ll be the second sister! That means you can order Hera around as much as you like. Isn’t that wonderful?"
Hecate, her expression unchanging, simply ignored her, her face half-buried in shadow as her crimson eyes glimmered faintly with a mixture of tolerance and exasperation.
She allowed the embrace, though she neither returned it nor acknowledged it, her silence speaking louder than any protest.
Hades, who had been watching quietly, finally spoke, his deep voice rumbling across the hall, steady and commanding.
His gaze turned toward Aphrodite, who now had her chest resting smugly atop Hecate’s head, her smile wicked as she basked in her own victory.
"Aphrodite. Behave yourself. Not in front of food." His words carried the weight of a command rather than a plea, his tone making it clear he would not entertain further antics.
But Aphrodite only smirked in return, her eyes gleaming with wicked humor as she leaned lower, deliberately pressing herself against Hecate’s head while stroking her cheek.
"Oh, my King," she purred, "always so cold, always so stern. Tell me, how does it feel? To sit here at the head of the table with three of the most beautiful goddesses in the Underworld within your arms, bound to your fate? Does it not swell your pride? Does it not make your ego sing with joy? Be honest, it must feel intoxicating."
Hades exhaled slowly, a long, tired sigh that seemed to rumble from deep within his chest, his expression remaining utterly unmoved.
He did not even spare her a glance as he replied in the simplest way possible. "I will not dignify that with a response."
His refusal was calm and absolute, his silence more cutting than any sharp retort, and yet it only made Aphrodite smirk wider, her playful eyes daring him to admit what he would not say.
Hera’s patience finally reached its limit, her regal tone sharper than steel as she cut across Aphrodite’s antics.
"Just go back to your seat, Aphrodite," she said coldly, her eyes narrowing with a queen’s disdain, her voice laced with both irritation and warning.
Yet Aphrodite, ever the shameless goddess of love, smirked in return, her lips curving into a sly smile that revealed she had no intention of yielding so easily.
"Oh, Hera, I’m far from done with my questions," she replied with infuriating playfulness, though, with exaggerated grace, she did saunter back to her seat, her hips swaying in a way that was clearly deliberate.
She sat down, but her mischief only grew bolder.
Picking up a silver fork, she scooped a piece of cake, placed it delicately upon her lips, and then, with dramatic flair, pointed the fork directly at Hera and Hecate as though it were a weapon of interrogation.
"Tell me then," she began, her eyes glimmering with dangerous amusement, "how was it? How was your experience with our dear King? Did it hurt? Did it feel good? Don’t tell me you didn’t pass out from the sheer pleasure."
Her voice dripped with provocation, every word designed to pierce pride and stir embarrassment.
Hera’s face turned scarlet, crimson burning across her cheeks as her composure cracked.
She slammed her hands against the table and glared with fiery outrage, her voice rising with both fury and mortification.
"How filthy! How absolutely dirty! That kind of act should only be done after marriage! It is sacred, it is pure, and it should not be sullied with such indecency!"
Aphrodite blinked, stunned for a moment, her fork lowering as if she could not believe what she was hearing.
She turned her wide eyes toward Hecate, searching for confirmation. But Hecate, quiet and unreadable, remained silent, her expression calm, her gaze betraying nothing.
That silence alone was answer enough. Aphrodite’s shock deepened as the realization struck her like a bolt.
She stood up abruptly, her hand slamming down onto the table with a loud crack that echoed through the hall.
"Unbelievable!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with outrage. "For two whole days, I stayed away from Hades’ bed, thinking the two of you were surely keeping him busy, rolling around like rabbits in heat, and now I find out... nothing happened!? Absolutely nothing!?"
Her disbelief gave way to fury, her words spitting like venom as she pointed accusingly at the two.
"You dumb virgins! Do you not realize? If you pushed him down, he wouldn’t refuse! You would have already experienced it—what it feels like to drown in ecstasy until your body collapses and you pass out in bliss! And yet, you waste the chance, acting like timid maidens!" Her voice rang out with both mockery and genuine frustration, her tone scandalized beyond measure.
Hera’s face blazed even redder, her composure shattering completely as she shouted back with righteous indignation.
"Premarital sex is wrong! It is sinful! It is shameful and dirty! One should wait until marriage, when vows are sacred and the bond is sealed! Anything else is disgraceful!"
But Aphrodite leaned across the table, her eyes gleaming, her smile sharp and merciless. "Wrong? No, Hera, you’ve got it all backwards! Premarital sex is the truest expression of love between two people, proof of their passion, their desire, their need for one another. Sex after marriage is no longer about proving love—it is about creating a family, fulfilling duty. The two are not the same! And if you think it’s shameful, then you’ve never truly loved."
The two goddesses clashed in a storm of words, their voices rising, Hera’s outraged shrieks colliding with Aphrodite’s taunting declarations, one arguing for purity and sacred vows, the other mocking it as prudishness and denial of true love.
The table rattled with the force of their quarrel, divine spirits at the edges of the hall glancing at one another nervously but daring not to interfere.
At the head of the table, Hades exhaled deeply, his broad shoulders sinking slightly with the weight of exasperation.
His eyes turned toward Hecate, who had not joined the argument, her expression the same calm, distant mask, though her gaze shifted to meet his.
For a moment, their eyes held, and in that brief exchange of silence, both understood the futility of trying to stop Hera and Aphrodite when they were locked in such a storm.
A faint, almost tired smile tugged at Hecate’s lips, and Hades, despite himself, mirrored her expression, the two of them sighing quietly in unison, united in their shared helplessness before the chaos unfolding at their table.