Page 43 of Loved By Aphrodite

“And yet you haven’t told us anything?”

“Do you tell me of all the goings-on in your realm? When was the last time you brought up the melting of the polar ice caps during our meetings? Why haven’t we summoned Athena over the effects of the advancements during the Industrial Revolution or the more recent consequences of unfettered capitalism?”

“This is different and you know it,” Athena said, defensive.

Pride burst from Hephaestus’s chest at Aphrodite’s confidence and nerves of steel.

“And for your information, I have been working to find a solution, and with Hephaestus’s assistance. I assure you that the matter is resolved and everything is back to normal or will be in a few more days. Whatever is happening now are unintended consequences.”

“Unintended consequences?” Hera scoffed. “This is a disaster.”

“I’ll be working on rectifying as much as I can in the coming days, but you can’t possibly expect to solve everything at once, especially when I’m pulled away from my work for useless meetings like this.”

“This literally could have been an email,” Apollo added.

“So, what happened?” Poseidon asked. “Why were the mortals falling in love?”

Her lips thinned. “Do I ask you how you conduct your business, Poseidon? Just trust me that the matter has been dealt with. Can you not sense it?”

“Yes,” Hestia said. “I feel the order returning. It’s slow, but steady.”

“Did you cause this, then?” Poseidon said. “Were you neglectful in your duties? Distracted?”

Aphrodite snorted. “Do you think I wanted to cause this chaos? Do you remember what it was like back in the day, when the mortals prayed to us constantly? It’s like that for me, but ten—no—a hundredfold! I was nearly going insane with all the never-ending stream of prayers reaching my ears.”

“So, who was it then? Tell us,” Poseidon insisted. “So that the guilty party may be punished.”

Aphrodite’s confident mask slipped for a moment. “There is no need for punishment when all will be normal in a matter of days.”

“There is every need for punishment,” Poseidon retorted. “There is divine magic behind this incident, and it is obvious that someone—another god, likely—has interfered with the order of things. As the Council of Olympians, everyone looks to us to set an example. If we let the culprit get away with this, then who is to stop others from doing the same thing next time. In the wake of recent events”—he looked meaningfully at Hades, who once again, had a bored expression on his face—“we must stand together and show the other divine and magical beings that suchinsolence will not be tolerated.” He rubbed at his chin. “Unless you would like to bear all responsibility.”

Hephaestus could no longer stay silent. “None of this is her fault. You can’t punish her.”

“And doyouknow the culprit, Hephaestus? Since you have been ‘assisting’ your ex-wife,” Athena asked. “As a member of the council, you have a duty to tell us.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but Aphrodite sent him a pleading glance. Instead, he slumped back in his seat and folded his arms.

Poseidon did not look pleased. “How about we put things to a vote? Aphrodite cannot vote on the matter regarding herself, so it must be up to the rest of us.”

While he wanted to protest, he knew that he could not. This was the rule of the council after all, the very same one that voted out Zeus.

Poseidon continued. “Aphrodite must put the culprit forward or she will be deemed responsible. All those in favor?” He raised his hand, as did Athena, Ares, Hermes, Hera, and Demeter. “Six to five votes, we have a decision.”

“It’s the wrong decision,” Hephaestus protested.

“Nevertheless, we abide by the rules of the Council of the Olympians,” Poseidon said smugly. “Aphrodite, you are ordered to produce the being responsible for all this.” With a wave of his hand, a large sand clock appeared in the middle of the table, the golden grains flowing down from the upper bulb to the lower one in a steady stream. “You must do so before the timer runs out or face judgment by the council yourself. This meeting is concluded.” Poseidon stood up. “I hope you make the right decision, Aphrodite.” With that, he disappeared, as did the members of the council who voted with him.

Aphrodite’s silvery-blue eyes met his, wanting to say something, but obviously they couldn’t discuss this. Not here, anyway.

“Thank you for your support,” he said to the other remaining gods.

“It wasn’t enough, though,” Apollo sighed.

“I’m starting to hate that guy,” Geri muttered. “Why is he in charge again?”

“He’s not,” Hades said. “But until we figure out what to do with that”—he nodded at Zeus’s empty seat—“he’ll keep thinking he is.”

“A problem for another time,” Hestia said. “Aphrodite?—”

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