Hera pursed her lips in stiff silence as the king of the gods proceeded not only to almost intentionally out himself to a store that still had clients being fitted (and thankfully out of sight), but to also make an ass of himself, though she supposed that was hardly surprising anymore. Her husband had loved his position of power, he likely wanted everything to go back to the way things were before it began to fade away. She knew he had tried to hold onto it, keep every last scrap of it in a vice-like grip. Odds were he was only tolerating his declined power. She gently massaged her temples and took a deep breath, her clients didn't need to hear an outburst or she the headache. Besides, he had always seemed to enjoy watching her get angry. Perhaps that had been why he had married her in the first place, aside from being his equal in power, to amuse himself.<br/><br/>"You could have easily sent me an email, or texted, my children have grown quite adept at it," she replied, her voice low but laden with impatience. That was right. Her children. Not that he would have cared. He had only ever acknowledged Ares to scold him, tell her son that he was nothing compared to his bastards. Hephaestus, barely even recognized by the father who had tossed him from Olympus' heights. And as for Eris, Eileithyia, Hebe, all raised exclusively by her. She considered herself lucky her girls hadn't faded, though of the three Eris was the most vibrant. Perhaps crashing Thetis and Peleus' wedding had actually been a boon, or at least guaranteed that Hera would be allowed to keep one of her daughters.<br/><br/>Keeping up a look of cool composure and attempting to hide her increasing anxiety of one of her clients overhearing him, Hera took him by the arm and led him to her office. No one would overhear them, unless it devolved into a shouting match. That was always possible with the two of them. Being in such close proximity to him, the familiar scent of the air after it rains tickled her nose, briefly bringing her back to moments of intimate embraces and moments of counsel when he had leaned in to whisper in her ear. She fought down the also familiar shiver of pleasure at the memory of his breath on her skin. No, not today. Not ever again. She finally had her life together. She was happy. Zeus would not ruin that for her.<br/><br/>"For the record, white bridal gowns are not the result of a shift in predominant world religion," Hera began to explain, one of her greatest pet peeves having been pricked by his remarks. "To give a brief history, the tradition began when Queen Victoria chose to wear a white dress for her wedding, which was an unusual color choice at the time and because everyone likes to follow a royal example, white wedding gowns have since become common. Quite the strange if impressive feat if I do say so myself. We also<i>do </i>offer flower wreaths to wear, you were just looking at the bouquet catalogs."<br/><br/>Her tone clipped, anyone passing them by would have simply thought she was talking business with a somewhat obnoxious client. She doubted anyone in town, save for her attendants, actually even considered she might be married. She was certain the two of them didn't look it either. As far as anyone else was concerned, Hera Argéia was a single successful businesswoman with no time for relationships, but apparently had children with whom she had close relationships. Most just seemed to assume she had gotten divorced, which wasn't too far off. She and her husband had been separated for practically five centuries at this point. And oh, how she bristled at his mention of<i>proper </i>marriage. What exactly defined a proper marriage in his eyes? One where the bride had no choice and was arranged to a man twice her age? Or was it one where the husband's philandering or whatever else he did was hardly grounds for divorce? Hera had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from going into that rant.<br/><br/>Once inside her office, she locked the door behind them and exhaled, trying to release at least some of the tension wound around her nerves. She then took her seat behind her desk of polished cedar wood. The walls were decorated with images of lotuses, pomegranates and her sacred animals like a fresco from the height of the pantheon's power, only without the cracks and faded paint. Placed upon the shelves were books and vases of lilies in an array of colors. Her old lotus staff, one of the symbols of her power, leaned against the wall next to a window that overlooked the local park, which proved convenient for brides-to-be who wanted their wedding photos taken nearby. With it open, not only did a cool spring breeze flow through, but so did the sounds of mortal life; children playing, people walking their dogs or going jogging, the rustling of leaves and the occasional splash of water fowl plunging below the water's surface. Her office had always been a place of peace and inspiration, and occasionally rest when particularly busy periods left her spending the night. She considered herself lucky she had had the foresight to order comfortable couches and chairs when she designed the place. Spread across her desk were gown designs and work documents. She gathered them up and straightened them as she fixed her gaze on Zeus, leaning back in her chair.<br/><br/>"Why are you here, Zeus?" Hera asked. "How did you even find me?"<br/><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="1302" data-username="@Theo" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/1302/">@Theo</a>