A night. I CHÓRA TOU VULCAN.

"Why is all this happening now? First, it was Ayla leaving for the gods know where, and now, Prium plotting against us. Why now?"

Vulcan remonstrated, seating on a lone chair opposite the royal bed which was laced about its edges with flowers of several kinds. Flowers which were at the mercy of Athena's will. For they changed at intervals even before one could master their traits and flavor. 

Athena was in bed, reading through a scroll. Occasionally she would look up at her worried husband when he was plunged into his thoughts. But now that he had spoken his mind, she tossed the...