It was as if she had found herself in a bad dream. However, she knew she was awake and not within some nightmare. Oh no, this was all too real and unsettling, and the goddess slowly reached over to turn on her light in order to confirm her suspicions. Somehow the bastard had ended up in her bed. She had no memory of him climbing in with her a few hours beforehand so clearly, he had snuck in by his own means. But Hera did not yell, nor bring forth her wrath upon him. All she could do was sigh. Because once again, he had gone against her-- even if it were in such a harmless way. Why he was so persistent in spending the night with her, she did not know and she didn't really want to know either. She despised Apollo; loathed his existence. Yet here the almighty queen was, switching off her light and allowing him to stay.
Hera muttered, pulling her sheets up to her neck so he wouldn't catch sight of her sheer nightgown, before slowly drifting back to sleep.