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I Am Zeus - Chapter 158: The Prophecy Of Chaos
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... eace, but the kind that tastes like chains.
Columns rose high around her, marble pale, carved with stories of a throne she no longer held. The air smelled faint of burnt incense, though no fire had burned there in years. Hera sat at the altar, her wrists bound by invisible cords. They weren’t chains of iron but oaths—the punishment Zeus had chosen. She could not step beyond the threshold of the temple that bore her name. Queen of Olympus once, now a prisoner of her own hall.
Her ...
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