Olives

“There can’t be a thunderstorm.” Tasoula’s veil covered little of her ire. “Not at our wedding.”

“He’s making a show, but he’ll be here with clear skies,” her maid-of-honour said.

“I’ll kill him if he lets her down.”

“Wanting to kill Dad is proof that you’re part of the family.”

Tasoula looked out the window at the gathering clouds. “He doesn’t like me.”

“You’re marrying his precious Athena. Of course he doesn’t.” It was meant it to be a joke, but had a bitter edge. “I mean, she is a virgin goddess.”

Tasoula turned to face her. “So…?”

Her maid-of-honour, Persephone, turned cold. “No matter how much you want her, she doesn’t want you.”

Tasoula blinked in surprise. Had they misunderstood this whole time?  “I know she’s asexual and respect her completely.” Tasoula pictured her fiancee on the battlefield, head of Medusa held high. She was so powerful; so beautiful. “Besides, the Goddess of War would destroy anyone who didn’t.”

As the words left her mouth, the clouds parted. A clap of thunder in the clear sky announced Zeus’ appearance.

“If you had said that sooner, you could have saved us a lot of worry,”  Persephone said with a chuckle. “We were planning to send you to my husband!”

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