The tale of Hera

“

…”

As I felt a tug on my clothes, I glanced down to see Menelaus’ small hand gripping onto the edge of my chiton. It seemed he wanted to say something to me, but with the ambrosia in his mouth, he couldn’t spit it out, making him appear quite perplexed.

“Oh, right.”

I looked at Menelaus and spoke, realizing that I had forgotten something.

“Retract your statement about offering me five hundred well-raised heifers when you become an adult. Offering such a large sacrifice to me alone would incur the wrath of Zeus.”

“

…”

the child’s blue eyes seemed to ask me. I thought for a moment and then smiled, remembering the lioness statue above the door that had caught my eye when I first arrived here.

“Make a statue just like that one and dedicate it in my temple. I’d like to use it to adorn the entrance above the bedroom door in my golden palace. What do you say? It’s a tribute that you can handle with your abilities, far better than five hundred well-raised heifers.”

Menelaus nodded enthusiastically. He agreed. Even though he was not yet an adult, he was so excited that he was mentally shouting that he would learn stonemasonry from now on and carve a lioness statue to dedicate to my temple.

“Mother, are you here?”

Hebe’s voice came from outside the door. It was evident that she had ridden on one of the summoned lionesses. I told Hebe that I was here and then looked at Menelaus.

“I must go now. Stay here so you won’t be caught by Agamemnon.”

With that, I slowly released the hand that was gripping my clothing. Menelaus had a look of shock on his face. He stood still, staring blankly until I passed through the door and left. Then, as if struck by lightning, he suddenly had a thought and ran after me.

Arriving at the courtyard of the Mycenae palace, where the lionesses and Hebe were present, I lightly leaped onto the back of a lioness who was not carrying Hebe. However, riding on a horse with saddle, reins, and bridle was a distinctly different matter from riding on the back of a wild lion with only a strap across its chest. I leaned forward and embraced the lion’s head. Then, instead of a bridle, I grabbed the rubber-like elastic nape of the lioness.

“Shall we return to Mount Pelion, Mother?”

Hebe asked about our destination. I shook my head.

“I am tired. I want to go back to my palace and rest. Besides, the winner of the competition must have been decided by now.”

“Yes, that is true.”

Hebe set her lioness in motion. The lioness carrying me also took four strides on the ground before swiftly soaring into the sky.

“Lady Hera! Lady Hera!!”

I heard the voice of Menelaus from below. I looked down and saw that his blue irises had turned purple, perhaps from swallowing the ambrosia. Anyone who tasted the food of the immortals would gain remarkable abilities in a specific part of their body. In Menelaus’ case, it seemed to be his eyes. He now had eyes as good as Apollo’s, capable of seeing far into the distance. From the surface, I must have already become a mere dot in the sky, yet the fact that he spotted me with his naked eyes proved otherwise.

On the sunlit courtyard floor we had left behind, Menelaus jumped up and down with all his might, shouting:

“Lady Hera! Lady Hera!”

“Menelaus! Have you lost your mind? How dare you leave the palace in broad daylight and shout for the goddess Hera?”

Hearing Menelaus’ cries, Agamemnon came out to the courtyard and, seeing his brother’s state, his anger flared, leading him to slap Menelaus across the face. Despite being knocked back by that tremendous force, Menelaus quickly got up and shouted towards the sky:

“Lady Hera!”

“Menelaus! Have you gone mad? You fool, snap out of it.”

Agamemnon struck Menelaus once more with his thick hand. Despite his lips bursting and blood flowing, Menelaus once again sprang to his feet, raising both hands and looking up at the sky.

“Lady Hera!”

“Menelaus! What do you think is up there? There’s nothing to be seen, whether it’s the goddess Hera or the god Zeus!”

Agamemnon shouted.

But I was listening. Listening to Menelaus’ voice. And I was watching. Watching those purple eyes of the child that were fixed right on me.

“Please remember! Don’t forget my name, Menelaus!!”

Menelaus shouted.

“Please wait for 17 years!! The moment when I stand before the King of Sparta and surpass my older brother, Agamemnon, Odysseus, and all the outstanding Greek warriors in victory! I will be the first to kneel in the arena and offer a prayer of gratitude to you, Lady Hera. Please remember my name, Menelaus, at that time!”

It wasn’t until I reached the top of Mount Olympus that I could no longer hear Menelaus’s voice. When I arrived at the entrance of my golden palace, Hebe, who had climbed up before me, was waiting for me after getting off the lioness.

“Mother, did