The dawn sky over Olympus was pale gold, the first light breaking over marble towers and quiet olive groves. Cool breezes drifted through the high colonnades, carrying the scent of morning rain far below in the mortal world.
In Zeus's private halls, servants moved quickly, folding deep indigo robes and fastening golden clasps across his broad shoulders. His golden hair fell down his back like rippling sunlight. Lightning flickered softly beneath his skin with each quiet exhale.
Hera stood beside him, her dark hair pinned into a braided crown, streaks of gold wire woven between the strands. Her crimson robes shimmered faintly with embroidered feathers that caught the dawn light with each shift of her body. She adjusted her golden sash with slow precision, her dark eyes unblinking as she watched her reflection in the polished bronze mirror before her.
"You look radiant," Zeus said quietly, his voice deep and rough with sleep still lingering at its edges.
