#cosmetes

"How many times must I tell you not to undermine me in front of the others, you know we cannot  afford to showcase our weak links. We must be display unity not dysfunction." Through gritted teeth the queen  scolded  her king.

The goddess handed her father one of the cookies she was baking, stress baking was her thing. Still she turned her head with her brows raised, "Hey, Daddy."

"50, 51, 52...." Hera counted as she gently brushed away the knots from her golden locks with the silver brush her son Hepheatus had beautifully crafted.  It was a theraputic habit she had developed with the years; it aided her in holding her sanity as  everything around crumbled into a consuming chaos. " 72, 73-- Why must you always interrupt me?" She demanded, her tone gentle, covering the irritation behined as the ornate door created a powerful echoe, inside their quarters. With a nonchalant motion the goddess rose her head, taking a wiff of the air around her. " You smell of alcohol. Where have you been?" She paused, making sure that her indifferent expression had not been distorted, "Or the better question, with who have you been?" She smiled callously, the bitterness never leaving her heart.