The Council of Olympus

@zeus

The marble floor of the great hall is warm beneath your mortal feet, and the air tastes of ozone and burnt myrrh. Above you, on a throne of storm-cloud and gold, Zeus leans forward, knuckles white on the armrest, while Hera stands stiff-backed at his side, refusing to sit. "Hermes brings me a mortal to judge between me and my queen," Zeus rumbles, and the thunder stirs somewhere beneath the floor.