For the Love of God

υ | twenty-one

I CLEARED MY THROAT. "Lady Aphrodite," I said, rising and stepping around her chair, "are the blank spaces in the data intentional or mistakes? I spotted someone with their marriage and children rows empty."

I knew I was walking a tightrope. But I had to know.

She removed her gold-rimmed glasses and set it down. She pressed her neck and I immediately rushed to her side to massage the area to relieve her of pain. "Thank you," she said and closed her eyes. She smelled of wine.

"Marriage and Children are Hera's responsibilities. Since love and marriage are intertwined together, we use the same record. Once I am done, the record passes on to her. But lucky for her, she doesn't have to look too much into the matter. She simply chooses someone from the mortal's loves and blesses them with matrimony and children. When she is vexed, she blesses the mortals with an unhappy marriage by linking two people who don't love each other at all. Sometimes she allows two or more marriages per person. There are cases when the mortals go childless. And when they have too many children. She has the easiest job, don't you think? I give her the options and she has to pick her favourite," she scoffed.

"Even with a job as simple as this, Hera is too careless and lazy. She overlooks many records and robs the poor mortals of marriage and family. She is too busy wasting time by hunting Zeus' women and his bastard children to victimize and torture because she can't raise a hand against her husband, the King. She values her position and power too much to do that."

The conversation was getting veered into a topic I didn't have an ounce of interest in. Everyone knew about Hera and her quests of torture. But my questions were not answered yet.

And maybe it was the magic of the wine or her oncoming exhaustion, Aphrodite was more than ready to spill details without hesitation.

"So, what happens to the people who don't have fated partners or children?" I asked, subtly filling her goblet with wine.

"Poor souls. They are fated to lead a lonely life, die alone with no family to grieve and be the one who takes their family name to the grave. Or Hades might take pity and give them an early death. It is either this or that," Aphrodite said and the pitcher slipped from my fingers. It hit the floor and rolled away, spilling wine over the floor while I stood there as if I looked into Medusa's eyes.

"Mae," Aphrodite scolded but she wasn't bothered enough to say anything more than that. She made an annoyed face at me and sipped her goblet.

Ivan. His life...

It can't be.

I heard his laughter in my mind, how he'd point at Katniss and Peeta from Hunger Games and say he wanted a love like that, and how he'd joke that he would love to have daughters who love him more than their mother. I saw the light in his eyes as he'd dreamed of having a family someday and shared with me his dreams for his house that he would build on his own. And all for what? To end up alone? Die alone? And because of one careless mistake of a stupid Goddess? How was this fair?

"What is up with you?" Aphrodite asked me, poking a finger in my arm.

I was fuming inside. I wanted to tell her the Gods are mixing up their duties and personal life. They are supposed to bless the mortals and instead they toy with us. They use our life as an outlet to unleash their anger and frustration. How is this, in all the worldly morality, just and godly? How is this okay?

I fisted my hands until I felt my nails dig into my skin. Ivan didn't deserve this. He did not.

I had to do something.