Blood of Hecate, Throne of Hera：The Servant Who Unmade a Goddess

The Queen broke my mother's spine and called it mercy. She forgot my mother's name before the golden ichor dried. I am Hecate's blood. I feel poison in my fingertips. I entered her court as a Cup Bearer — invisible, obedient, burning. Now I pour the God-King's wine. I share his bed. I smile at my mother's killer every single day. She thinks I want his favour. She doesn't know I want her crown, her son, her sanity — and her on her knees, begging, the way I once begged for my mother's life.