Artemis does not turn, but takes another sip of nectar from her goblet in a weary sort of way. ‘What, Hermes? What this time?’ He twirls the rod a little more, just to make sure she is listening. It is sensational news, after all – there wouldn’t be any point in giving it away all at once. ‘You know Aphrodite?’ he asks, maddeningly superior. Artemis sighs with an air of martyred patience, then sets down her goblet and turns to look over the back of her throne. ‘We’ve only been living together for eternity,’ she says, rolling her eyes. ‘So what? What about her?’ Hermes smiles with the air of one dropping a bucket of pitch on an unsuspecting enemy. ‘I saw her yesterday,’ he says, pretending not to notice that Artemis has turned around. ‘In bed.’ Artemis gives an unmaidenly snort. ‘That’s where she is most of the time,’ she says, reaching for her goblet. ‘And I don’t need to hear your fantasies on what she looks like naked, Hermes. Zeus knows, we’ve all been treated to the real thing often enough.’ Hermes ignores her.
