Aphrodite was the deity formed from the foam that arose when a part of Uranus fell into the sea. She did not possess excessively great power, nor an overly noble lineage. If Aphrodite could be called a child of Uranus, it would be an imperfect description, for she was born of foam; yet if one claimed she was not Uranus's child, that too would be inaccurate, because Aphrodite did indeed originate from a portion of Uranus falling into the sea and transforming together with the sea.

Even though her dominion comprised only "love" and "beauty," and even though Aphrodite could, with her power, make mighty gods fall enamored of her, and though her power was so bewitching, and though she appeared frivolous and passionate, all the gods regarded Aphrodite as a flower easily plucked at will. Yet only Aphrodite herself knew that precisely because she commanded "love" and "beauty," she cared especially about whether the offerings of love from gods or nymphs were sincere.

If not sincere, Aphrodite would disdain them.

Sadly, no matter how many people or gods were infatuated with Aphrodite, she rarely received anything called "sincerity."

What this radiant deity with golden hair and golden eyes desired was nothing more than pure sincerity, yet even that Aphrodite could not obtain.

Claimed and admired, she had to navigate among powerful gods. Yet even the seemingly freewheeling Aphrodite was not a delicate rose anyone could pluck at will. Aphrodite had earlier struck Zeus fiercely; she mercilessly delivered to him the devastating curse of "no heirs," cursing this raging king of gods with impotence. After leaving the island of Lemnos, this beautiful and enticing deity teased Hephaestus, wandered the earth to compose herself, and later arrived at the seaside.

...Neither Zeus nor Poseidon was willing to give Aphrodite respect.

Aphrodite once gave Poseidon a kiss. Now, the beautiful deity had removed her sandals and stood by the sea, gazing out over the water. The sun god Helios was driving his chariot westward; the fiery sun looked as if it were sinking into the sea. Aphrodite’s slender ankles were kissed by the waves. She felt sea nymphs watching from afar, so Aphrodite gave a beguiling smile toward the distant rocks. Her smile was perfectly arced, almost mechanical—just a smile exuded charm—so that when the sea nymphs received Aphrodite’s smile they seemed startled, flipping their fish tails and diving into the sea, clutching their chests with flushed cheeks.

Aphrodite was confident her charm had not diminished and still won every battle, but why did that god Hephaestus seem so indifferent toward her... Only by digging into Hephaestus’s heart did she learn he admired her. Perhaps Hephaestus’s admiration was because of Aphrodite’s golden girdle, but the goddess did not care. She had obtained a message of admiration from Hephaestus as she wished, as if she had won another victory in war.

Aphrodite sought true hearts; she hoped someone could see the real her beneath her promiscuous appearance. She also reveled in being adored and admired. If she could not obtain a precious “true heart,” she would watch the fools infatuated by her colors grow delirious; she would watch supposedly mighty gods become dizzy and faint over a kiss or a fleeting glance. Aphrodite liked being admired and needed. She watched gods attracted by her power prostrate at her feet, begging for a single kiss...

How foolish—those so-called powerful gods, so foolish, merely pursuing “beauty,” even if beneath Aphrodite’s beautiful exterior there was frivolity and emptiness.

The beautiful Aphrodite was unwilling to return to Mount Olympus, for she knew Zeus would surely be angry.

Zeus’s sudden forcefulness was not beyond Aphrodite’s expectations. The mighty gods who usually lost themselves over her charms typically became ecstatic from her kiss or words alone, but Zeus clearly... Zeus clearly cared only about desire. The god-king Zeus, when he wanted something, did not concern himself with feelings or flirtation; he sought only momentary pleasure.

So Aphrodite could not let Zeus have his way. Even putting aside Zeus’s promiscuity rivaling her own, his overwhelming desire repelled her. The beautiful god of love and beauty saw Zeus as “ugly.” Even with Zeus’s handsome appearance and muscular body—qualities that matched human and divine standards of strength and attractiveness—Aphrodite saw him as “ugly.” That ugliness made her want to vomit simply at being touched by Zeus.

Standing by the sea and watching the sunset, Aphrodite could not help but think of that god named Hephaestus.

The ugly, foot‑crippled god unexpectedly did not provoke rejection in Aphrodite; she was even willing to touch Hephaestus’s back just to see his nervous reaction... How interesting. To be honest, since her birth Aphrodite had never seen a god as ugly as Hephaestus. She felt his ugliness had a kind of style... Moreover, judging by the muscles on Hephaestus’s intact parts, he was rather strong, and the intact side of his cheek could even be called handsome. What a pity for that god named Hephaestus. Aphrodite watched the sun in silence, tilted her head, and pondered.

Aphrodite was unwilling to return to Mount Olympus because she knew that Zeus, the ruler of Olympus, would surely seek revenge. So the beautiful goddess pinched her fair chin with her fingers and pondered which powerful god she could align herself with to avoid Zeus's punishment.

Aphrodite considered turning to Poseidon, because the surface-level harmony between the earth-shaking sea god and Zeus was only outward; everyone knew the story of the three brothers who divided the world, and Zeus had cheated to obtain the sky, so his brothers Poseidon and Hades were both resentful toward Zeus.

Thus the radiant goddess of beauty and charm pondered which god she should seek for help... Using her invincible allure to beguile a powerful god into aiding her was Aphrodite’s specialty.

While Aphrodite mulled over which powerful deity to enlist as an ally, Hera, mistress of Mount Olympus, stormed down from the gods to the earth in a fury. Having stood atop Mount Olympus weeping, grieving, and enraged, she bit her lip and prepared to journey to the ends of the earth to find her foster parents, Oceanus and Tethys. These ancestral deities had once raised Hera, so she resolved to go to them to complain. The status of Oceanus and Tethys was such that even the three rulers who controlled the world could not shake them, and so the goddess of marriage hurriedly set off toward the earth.

The goddesses of time opened the light curtain of Mount Olympus; Hera crossed mountains, traversed forests and snowy peaks, her feet never touching the ground. This red-haired, radiant goddess wore a blank expression and a stubborn face as she stubbornly went alone to her foster parents.

And what about the throne at the summit of Mount Olympus?

Zeus was expressionless yet full of anger. The wrathful king of gods sat on his throne with a golden crown on his black hair. After questioning the gods about Aphrodite’s whereabouts to no avail, he propped his forehead with his hand and looked down from his throne at everything on the earth—yet even all that Zeus controlled, this land he ruled, could not fill the anger within him. Zeus knew Hera had left Olympus for Oceanus and Tethys. Though he cursed her in his heart as “a foolish woman who only runs to her parents to complain,” he refused to lower himself to placate her. Thus Zeus sat on his throne with a grim face; the clouds and lightning over Olympus reflected the god-king’s fury.

As Hera crossed mountains and snowy peaks walking upon the earth, Hephaestus, hiding in the shadows, had already learned of Hera’s movements from the sea goddess. The sea goddess had returned from Olympus to the earth and witnessed Hera and Zeus’s quarrel, so facing Hephaestus’s plea, she had no choice but to reveal Hera’s trail.

Hephaestus then donned his robes, wearing a mask that covered half his cheek to reveal the unscarred handsome part of his face, fitted his prosthetic limb, put on his garments and cloak, straightened his back, and looked resplendent—appearing as a handsome god with a somewhat shadowed aura.

Now Hephaestus carried his “bait,” the throne he had crafted for Hera, and placed the bait on the path that led to the ends of the earth. Hephaestus stood in the darkness while the forest’s Delian trees used their abundant branches to conceal his figure. Thus the one-eyed fire god coldly watched his nominal mother Hera—the noble goddess who had abandoned him—slowly approaching.

Hephaestus placed the throne in a conspicuous spot and attached a message to it.

[This gift is for the most beautiful, most noble goddess—please sit upon it]