mom and her old friends. The magic Titan Hecate, who had helped Demeter search, went to the Underworld and became one of Persephone’s attendants. That was cool with Hecate. The Underworld was much darker, and a better place to work magic than a drafty cave.
Demeter even remembered her promise to Triptolemus, the prince of Eleusis. She gave him his own serpent-wheeled chariot and made him the god of farming. She told him to travel the world and teach people about agriculture. It doesn’t sound like a very flashy job, but I guess Triptolemus liked it better than being thrown in a bed of fire.
After that, Demeter really did settle down. She didn’t throw any more tantrums, which was good, because once her sister Hera got started, Hera’s temper would make Demeter’s anger look tame.
HERA GETS A LITTLE CUCKOO
LET’S START WITH THE GOOD NEWS. Hera was hot. I mean totally knockout gorgeous.
She had long licorice-black hair. Her face was regal and unapproachably beautiful, like the face of a supermodel on a fashion runway. The Greeks described her eyes as “oxlike.” Believe it or not, that was a compliment. It meant she had large, soft brown eyes that you could get lost in. I guess the Greeks spent a lot of time staring at oxen.
Anyway, in the early days of Mount Olympus, all the male gods and Titans were falling over themselves for Hera. Which brings us to the bad news. Hera had a short temper and massive attitude. Whenever a guy approached her, she would cut him down so fast—pointing out his faults, trash-talking him like a pro—that the guy would leave in tears and never try flirting with her again.
Mother Rhea decided Hera would do well at a boarding school for girls, where she could grow up a little and learn to be less abrasive. Unfortunately, nobody had invented boarding schools for girls yet.
Rhea did the next best thing. She sent Hera off to live with her Uncle Oceanus and Aunt Tethys at the bottom of the farthest sea.
For a while, Hera was off the radar screen. She spent some happy years with Oceanus and Tethys, who had a pretty solid marriage compared to the other immortals. Hera decided she wanted a marriage like that. She would hold out for the right guy. She wouldn’t marry just any old god who came along, unless he could prove he would be a good and faithful husband.
She’d heard about her sister Demeter’s troubles. Poseidon, Zeus, and Hades were all complete jerks. Hestia had been smart to stay single.
Hera wasn’t about to be a bachelorette forever, though. She wanted a husband, kids, a house in the suburbs—the whole package. She would just have to be careful about which husband she chose.
After a few years, she moved back to Mount Olympus and got her own set of apartments in the palace. Her nasty temper was more under control, but the guy gods still found her hard to flirt with. If they got too fresh, she would shut them down fast.
Kiss Hera? I don’t think so, loser. Not unless you show her a wedding ring and a financial statement proving you can support a family.
Eventually most of the gods and Titans decided Hera was too much work, even though she was absolutely the most beautiful goddess in creation. (Well, so far, anyway.)
One god saw her as a challenge, though.
Zeus didn’t like to take no for an answer. You may have noticed that.
He would slide in next to her at the dinner table and tell his best jokes. He would sing for her at the hearth. He would see her walking down the hall, and he’d suddenly bust into a Kouretes dance number just to get her to smile.
Secretly she enjoyed the attention. Zeus was funny when he wanted to be. He was handsome with his dark hair and blue eyes, and he liked to walk around without his shirt on, casually flexing his muscles and showing off his abs. He was in good shape, no doubt about it. And, yes, he was the king of the universe, so most women might consider him a good match.
But not Hera. She knew all about Zeus’s womanizing. He’d already been married at least twice. He’d had a child with Demeter. There were rumors of many other affairs with goddesses, Titans, and even mortals.
Hera was not going to be another conquest. She wasn’t a trophy. She knew that if she ever gave in to Zeus, he would