With great effort, Zeus temporarily stilled Demeter's ardor.
He asked softly, "My love, do you like this gift?"
Demeter nodded again and again, yet still wriggled in Zeus's arms with unflagging persistence.
She truly didn't want to wait any longer.
All her divinity urged her madly on, to receive the God-King's rain and dew.
Agriculture, after all, takes the sky as its master.
Cloud and rain are the most crucial elements of her life.
How could the Mother of Earth not be infatuated with the Lord of the Sky? She simply couldn't!
Hestia, seeing Demeter's charming, lovestruck state, couldn't help a knowing smile.
Who could fail to like this lovely, tender Demeter?
She shifted the topic at just the right time and asked softly, "Zeus, my love, our Father—and Iapetus and the rest—their authorities, how did…"
Zeus smiled and said, "I went to the Underworld—originally to release them—but our Father and the others had no heart to repent. So I took their authorities."
"For now, they still need more lessons."
"When they fully recognize their errors and truly change their minds—then, and only then, will they have a future."
Hestia nodded lightly. She understood what Zeus meant.
"Only, if so—what of the Mother of All…"
Zeus smiled faintly. "Don't worry. I have a plan."
Hestia nodded gently. She trusted Zeus absolutely and would forever stand at his side.
As for Demeter, she didn't care about Kronos and the rest at all—she cared only for Zeus.
Seeing Demeter all but ready to tug at Zeus's belt, Hestia hurriedly seized her nearly uncontrollable dear sister.
She had to pull rather hard to get her out of Zeus's arms.
Then she said warmly to Zeus, "Zeus, you should go see Hera. Hera… she's truly very sad."
"She is the kindest and gentlest among us, and also the most steadfast and strong."
"But she is likewise the most fragile and delicate among us—she cannot be without you."
"You—sigh—you should care for her more, and treat her more gently."
Zeus nodded heavily and said earnestly, "Dear Hestia, I understand."
"Hera is my dearest love. I've never hidden that. I absolutely don't want her to feel the least unhappiness. I will go and comfort her well."
Hearing them speak of Hera, Demeter—though overcome with passion—still quietly curled her rosy lips.
With Hestia, she didn't mind sharing Zeus.
Because she knew Hestia's place in Zeus's heart was much the same as her own.
But Hera was different!
She could see it clearly and knew with certainty—Zeus's greatest love was Hera!
If Hera wished, with a single word from her lips, Zeus would announce without a moment's hesitation that she was his first wife!
Metis, Themis—stand aside in good order.
Including herself—none could match.
For this, Demeter did not go so far as jealousy and hatred, but envy was inevitable—and she couldn't quite keep from being jealous.
Yes… very jealous.
Still, it didn't affect the bond between the sisters.
In the dark years when Kronos's divinity suffused everything, it was their own who huddled together for warmth and held out together.
Then came the war to overthrow Kronos—fighting shoulder to shoulder. The love between sisters was beyond doubt.
Besides, there were far too many enemies outside!
One must be closest to one's own first—deal with the outside threats before anything else!
How could one make kin grieve while letting foes rejoice?
Hestia nodded lightly. What Demeter understood, she, of course, understood as well.
But she took the longer view: the family's happiness was what mattered most; everything else was unimportant.
Then she tugged Demeter away for the time being.
If they didn't go now, her dear sister really wouldn't have minded staging a great harvest play right before her eyes.
After the two beloved goddesses left, Zeus stood alone where he was, thinking of his beloved Hera. He sighed quietly and helplessly.
It seemed that without some measures, this truly could not be solved.
Hera could not accept sharing her beloved with other goddesses.
He had to give her a reason—a reason that could comfort her and one she could grudgingly accept.
Just then Amalthea was peeking into the hall from the doorway—head craning, furtive as could be.
She had no idea that those long, resplendent horns above her head had already given her away completely.
Seeing this, Zeus could only smile and shake his head. Without a sound, in a blink he stood before the daft goddess.
With one big hand he grasped one of her long, iridescent horns and, just like that, pulled her into his arms.
He grumbled, "Amalthea, what are you doing? I can see at a glance you're up to no good—were you hoping to watch my embarrassment?"
Amalthea shook her head in displeasure, trying to shake off Zeus's hand.
She pretended not to hear his question and only complained, "Zeus! Let go of my horns! Careful, you'll break them again!"
Zeus snorted twice and not only didn't let go, but deliberately held her horns and waggled her daft little head back and forth.
Amalthea yelped in indignation and used all her strength to wrest back sovereignty over her double horns from Zeus.
Only, even with strength to prop the sky and brace the sea, when she tussled with Zeus she still seemed so soft and powerless.
This guileless nymph cared not a whit about wriggling so in Zeus's embrace.
She didn't mind how much the God-King profited from this intimate pressing and twisting against her too-fiery divine body.
Though she lacked any complex schemes, with the purest of feeling she knew perfectly well: she could only ever be Zeus's goddess—only ever the goddess within Zeus's arms.
And this little imperiousness of hers she showed only in Zeus's embrace.
She would romp only in Zeus's arms.
This great goddess who presides over "Nourishment," "Healing," and "Purification" in truth had a more primal, more fundamental authority—"Nursing."
It was only that, at the solemn, august Assembly of the Gods, Zeus was too embarrassed to proclaim it before the whole pantheon.
Though her face was pure and girlish, her figure, in truth, was worthy in full of that sacred authority of "Nursing."
Even though she still held her virginity, that fullness and richness from the source nature of the law was innate—impossible to hide!
So, as she frolicked lightly in Zeus's arms, within the grand, echoing hall where only two gods were present, an ambiguous atmosphere spread quietly like a warm tide.
At some point Zeus's big hands had released the lovely, iridescent horns upon the daft goddess's head.
The tireless God-King, whose blood had already been stirred hot by passionate Demeter, grew hotter still now.
One great hand, like an iron hoop, had cinched the goddess's unbelievably supple, slim waist tight, drawing her wholly into his embrace.
The other was behind her—grasping who knew what, doing who knew what.
The winsome goddess was pressed close to her beloved Zeus's chest.
That towering source of life, upon the God-King's chest, was pressed into a shape impossible to describe in words—stunning and breathtaking.
The God-King savored this boundless goodness most clearly.
Amalthea tipped up her little head. At some point she had given up that futile struggle.
Docile now, she nestled into Zeus's arms.
Her pure golden eyes—like melted suns—gazed adoringly into Zeus's.
Within those beautiful, wide eyes already shimmered feeling like pools of spring water.
"Zeus~~~"
A never-before-heard, soft and syrupy voice trembled from the tender, rosy lips of the goddess the God-King loved and pampered so deeply.
Amalthea didn't know why her voice had become like this.
She didn't even know why it felt as if all the strength in her body were flowing swiftly away.
She only knew that Zeus's embrace was so warm. So very warm.
She couldn't bear to leave it.
Looking at the daft nymph before him, the God-King felt a fire enough to burn the universe surge from his chest, racing wildly to his very limbs and bones!
Zeus's strong arms held fast the winsome goddess he cherished beyond measure.
He lowered his head slowly, and with his lips lightly took between them Amalthea's luscious, crimson earlobe.
He breathed heat into it, his voice already a little hoarse, whispering, "Amalthea, I'm… hungry."
"Th-then I… should feed you?"
The goddess who knew nothing of flirtation blurted, dazed, the words most certain to pour oil on the fire.
She was only following her instincts—just as in that cave on Crete long ago—without reserve yielding to Zeus, caring for Zeus.
Only now the way of feeding had shifted from the horn to another place…
Outside the hall, Clymene—who had just stepped in to look for Zeus—had only set foot within when the sight before her eyes made them fly wide open.
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