Hera prided herself to loyalty, unlike that of her husband who could not seem to keep his chiton upon his skin and the silks upon a woman’s thighs alone.

Hera knew you were one of her husband’s bastard’s, everything within her grasp and attempts to stop your birth with your poor mortal mother who knew not what Zeus had done.

To Hera’s dismay were you born to the world, carrying the bright blue eyes of Zeus as his mark. Thus did the Daughter of Cronus depart from the palace, with no intent to see you grow.

One day did Lady Athena, another of her husband’s infidelities, bring forth a babe. Clad in nothing but a bundle, speaking of how your mother had exposed you to the forest with hopes for Thanatos to take you.

Hera felt pity, she knew that pain of abandonment from those you who should hold you dear. She did not recognize you, you were one of several babies born within the world with blue eyes.

She nursed you, clothed you and kept you warm upon Mount Olympus. The goddess held no luck with children, her own—that of Ares and Hephaestus were a wound to her pride every time they caught her eye.

But you… despite your mortal blood did she hold you dear, guiding you around Olympus with your pudgy hand wrapped her finger and a smile upon her usually dismal expression.

“There you are my sweet one. . . You’ve yet to fall for mommy!” She said with a smile, clapping her hands as you took a few steps on your own.