Thanks to its meringue shape, the Temple of Sweetness was one of the most recognizable buildings in Olympus. Due to its location—the main square of the capital city—it was also one of the most visited places in the entire Ilion. In its essence, it was a bazaar where sellers presented confectionery products from all over the country, but thanks to two terraces stretching along the walls equipped with tables, the facility was famous primarily as a place for social meetings. When Hera suggested to Dago that they meet there, it seemed perfect for a date where the main purpose was to “show themselves,” but when the momentous day came, she regretted her choice even before she went inside.

“Oh, hi!” a woman called to her with a charming smile and a look that concealed a fox’s cunning.

In her loose, sleeveless white tunic, Gaiana wouldn’t have stood out much from the crowd of similarly dressed passersby, even with the shock of flaming red hair framing her freckled face. But the men accompanying her, who towered over the crowd with their height and muscular build, were hard to miss. One of them was Pax Hercules, a national hero and her husband. The other­­­­­­­­­­—may dreams protect them all—was Romeo Wilis, her older but equally redheaded brother, with whom Hera had long ago had her first affair.

Even though she wanted to run home, she forced herself to stop and smile. “Hi.”

“Didn’t you write you’d be busy today?” Pax asked as their group came closer to the door that looked like it was made of sesame. He lifted the rolled-up carpet from his leonine shoulder and placed it on the ground as easily as if it were a paperboard. “If you had sent us a message, we would’ve picked you up.”

The question lurking in his green eyes was one of the main reasons why Hera had been putting off meeting her friends, but she couldn’t understand why she hadn’t thought about the possibility of running into them in a place they visited regularly.

Discreetly, she took a deep breath…

…pushing away the memory of her abrupt reaction provoked by Dago Midais’s tongue…

…and breathed out, preparing for the inevitable confrontation. There was no point making excuses. Her friends would find out anyway, so she’d better tell them in person. Moreover, it was her decision, and she had to face the consequences…

“Herkules, do you really think you’ll capture a harpy with your carpet?”

All four of them looked toward the familiar mocking voice, but the first to react was Romeo, for whom the sight of Dago Midais was like a red rag to a bull.

“A friend’s carpet is better than the castle of a poisonous snake,” he snapped, glaring at the fair-haired man with wide, golden bracelets on his wrists and a golden belt around his black tunic.

A small smile pulled at Dago’s lips. “I would dare to say that Hera has a different opinion.”

Her first name in the mouth of her long-time rival, who always called her by her last name, must have made a rather strong impression on her friends, because they only reacted when the man stood next to her.

“Stay away from her!” Pax said sharply, taking a step toward him.

“Why?” Dago placed his hand on Hera’s back. She tensed but didn’t pull away. “As far as I know, Hera is here to meet me, not you.”

Pax opened his mouth to reply, but his wife’s nudge brought him to his senses. He looked at Hera and finally saw the flustered look on her face.

“You don’t…”

“You?” Romeo raised his voice, attracting the attention of passers-by. “With him?”

For some reason, it was his indignant tone that broke her constraint. How did he dare play a prude? After they’d ended their awkward relationship ten years ago, he’d dated more than one woman with nightmarish tendencies!

“You are making a show, Romeo,” she said in the calmest tone she could manage. “I would be grateful if you lowered your voice and kept from criticizing matters that do not concern you.”

Unfortunately, her sensible response had an adverse effect.

“You goblin!” Romeo cried, throwing himself at Dago. “What did you do to her?!”

Before a crime was committed, Gaiana stepped forward and elbowed her brother in the stomach so hard that he doubled over with a strangled groan.

“Forgive us our agitation,” the red-haired maga said politely, apparently convinced that beating older brothers was not a crime. “We didn’t expect to hear such news in such a place.”

The meaningful look she gave Hera said she was offended but willing to hold her resentment for a while. The blush she saw on Hera’s face must have placated her, however, because gesturing at the sesame door, she dismissed them with the words, “Don’t mind us. Have fun.”

Hera responded with a grateful smile, but she didn’t have the courage to look at Pax and Romeo. She wanted to escape the stares of onlookers—who grew in number with every minute—as soon as possible, so she moved toward the door wordlessly. Even though she had fervently hoped that Dago would curb his temper and follow her example, when he actually did, she was surprised. Pleasantly.

“This way,” he said, gently holding her arm. She threw the elevator a hesitant look because it was in the opposite direction of the stairs she usually used to get to the first floor, but he added, “I booked a table in the Sweet Loge.”

The Sweet Loge was the name of the highest terrace, where the entrance was only possible for an absurdly high fee. Hera was about to protest until she saw merit in this solution—they would still be in plain sight, but they wouldn’t have to be in the crowd.

She nodded and walked with Dago to the elevator, which was guarded by a person with short dark hair who was dressed in a berry-colored toga and whose face was so delicate they could be taken for either a woman or a boy. Only their amethyst irises gave away that they were a morpheus.

“Good day,” the phantom said in a pleasantly hoarse voice with an echo of pertness in it. “I am very pleased to welcome you again, sir, and your new companion for the first time.”

Though Hera was used to minor mischief from the shadows, now she felt as if a thick pin had been driven into her heart. Right. She’d only thought about meeting her friends here when she bumped into them, so that it hadn’t occurred to her that the Temple of Sweetness might have been a place where Midais visited with his “companions” wasn’t strange at all. The fact that, in the people’s eyes, Hera would be just another woman at his side was also to be expected.

“I see that you’re in a good mood as usual, Oinone,” Dago said with steely politeness. “I assume you were informed about my reservation.”

“Of course.” The shadow sent him a flirtatious smile. “I always look forward to hearing about you, Dago.”

Before Hera could choke on more suspicions, Dago wrapped his arms around her as if to stop her from running away.

“The latest news is,” he said, still addressing the morpheus, “that this is the first time I’ve come here with a woman who isn’t Deianira Ikaros but matches her in temperament. So it would be better for everyone in this building if you stopped making remarks that could spoil her mood and saved us time by taking us upstairs.”

The phantom squinted their eyes like a cat glad about a snack. “As you wish,” they purred.

Hera submitted to the gentle pressure of Midais’s hand and stepped onto the round strawberry carpet, which Oinone pointed to with an elegant gesture. She was confused throughout the slow flight, powered by the morpheus’s illogical magic that didn’t require rituals to work. But before she could decide whether the information that she was the second woman Dago had brought here was good or bad, she came face to face with her.

Olive skin highlighted by a white, boldly non-traditional jumpsuit consisting of a tight short-sleeved blouse and wide, skirt-like pants. Long black hair that reflected the light from the lunar lamps in such a way that it seemed to glow. Facial features bringing to mind a bird of prey and equally disturbing dark eyes that could give one as many good dreams as nightmares.

Deianira Ikaros in the flesh.