"And was he, this youth, perchance handsome?"
"Handsome," he growled. "No, no! You would find him singularly unattractive, I assure you."
'Ummm! Singularly unattractive. Well!"
"Now, be about your business. I must call Athena, the Goddess of memory. I vaguely recall some chores of historical note. Some very interesting little minor chores. Oh, yes!"
For a moment Hera stood still, frowned. Fortunately for Zeus she was quickly distracted by her maids, who gathered around to whisper of the exciting events of the day. They left the room, chattering and laughing.
Zeus smiled as he contemplated those interesting little minor chores. "Athena, in spite of her foolish infatuation, will provide me with the information I need. Eh, reluctantly, I suppose. My, the difficulties one meets in governing the universe!"
He hummed softly. "What is that called! Catchy little tune.
Hera, dear, I'm hungry. My ambrosia, please."
Hera, at the door, glanced backed at him in surprise. "Ambrosia, please? Did I hear 'please'?" She walked across the room to his side, placed her palm on his forehead, shaking her head as she did so. "Strange, no fever. Please? My, how un-Zeus-like!"
In happier times did Persephone with the water nymphs play. By the seashore they gathered. They brought from the ocean's depth strange flowers, colorful stones, and jewels seized from sailing ships by angry sea.
Persephone carried with her flowers from her garden, a garland on her head. With her she brought fruits, and all manner of good and beautiful plants that grew within the garden.