The Queen's Heir
A bringer of news and general mischief!
I tilted my head, studying the faint indentations on his skin with genuine confusion.
"But you pecked at the bread I left out for you first. Like a chicken would."
The god spluttered, his face turning an amusing shade of pink as he struggled for words. Before he could retort, Hera sighed heavily, running a hand through her dark, perfectly coiffed hair as she stepped forward from where she'd been observing near the throne platform.
"Eirene, dearest, gods do not taste like poultry. We are immortal beings made of divine essence." Her voice was patient but firm, and she shot Hermes a warning glare that made him shrink back slightly.
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