Page 12 of Hera

That set her off on a long monologue about different fabrics and patterns she had used recently, throwing around sewing terms that went completely over his head. He breathed a mental sigh of relief when the date was over, moving on to the next table after a bow to Chantalle.

The scent of vanilla and apple pie hit him before he saw the woman’s face, overwhelming his senses. Then she smiled at him and his heart almost stopped beating.

Get a hold of yourself and don’t scare this one off.

“Evening, my name is Augustine.”

“I’m Hera.” She held out a dainty hand and he kissed the back of it.

“I like your n—” He glanced at her neck, but she wasn’t wearing jewelry.

Neck?

No, I am not a vampire.

Nose?

That sounds weird.

I have been staring too long!

Say something!

“Eyes,” he finished and cringed inwardly.

Hera looked amused. “You like myneyes?”

“Can I start over?” Augustine covered his burning cheeks with his hands. “That did not come out right at all!”

“What were you trying to say?”

He saw only amusement in her eyes, no malice, so he took a deep breath. “My brothers helped me come up with conversation topics because it has been a while since I last dated. That was my attempt at saying that I liked your necklace, but you are not wearing one. And then I panicked,” he finished sheepishly.

“That’s quite all right. It’s been a while since I dated, too.” She leaned forward. “And I’m nervous as well. You have brothers?”

“Two of them.” His embarrassment fading, her name finally filtered through. “Wait, you are Hera?”

Her expression shuttered. “Yes.”

“As in Hera’s Potions and Lotions?”

“Oh!” She smiled brightly at him. “Yes, that’s me.”

“I use your lotion every day. It is amazing.” Augustine rolled back the royal blue sleeve of his dress shirt to his elbow and offered Hera his wrist to sniff.

Her eyes widened as she smelled the lotion he had used before getting dressed.

And then beautiful white-feathered wings popped into existence behind her. A sound of tearing material met his ears, but before he could figure out what that meant, Hera gave a squeaking gasp and clutched the material of her dress to her chest.

Augustine immediately reached behind him for his coat, draping it over her chest. “Are you all right?”

Hera blinked her big grey eyes up at him for a moment before she started to laugh.

He sat back down, a little confused. “Was it something I said?”

“No, no,” she managed to say through her giggles. “It’s just... Thesewings! I can’t control them at all—” They fluttered as if in agreement and knocked over a potted plant nearby. They had an impressive wingspan, almost reaching to the table next to them where Chantalle was sitting with her date. He couldn’t help but want to compare them to his own wings. The white would look beautiful next to the purple scales of his dragon form.

“And whenever they rip my clothes, I can’t fix them.”

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