The Kind One
Katherine P . F . Holmes
I am the first and the last . Cronos swallowed me before the others , disgorged me a er . Where that leaves me in rank is a question my siblings seem not to ask themselves .
A er my almighty brother killed the Child-Eater and expelled the Titans , he rose thrones over Olympus and we oversaw the sprawl of the world . I loved Zeus , our liberator . He ruled firm and fair . But he chased many mistresses and neglected his wife .
Hera rotted before us . She grew petty and cloying , jealous of Zeus and his broken virgins . Her vengeance le a menagerie : the stung cow , the hunted bear . She terrorized for love of the thunder god , as if he had bolted her brain in their marriage bed .
Sister Demeter fared no better . She wept and caused winter when Hades stole her daughter . When he returned her , ravished and gaunt , Demeter could no sooner rejoice than wilt at the thought of the girl ’ s next stint in the ground .
Women of feeling , brought low by men who took what they wanted by charm or by force . Their rutting shook the olive trees and ended in splinters , bastards , and misery .
I had seen enough of wily men and punished women . When my niece Artemis grew into her throne , I told her to swear chastity before the gods . It would protect her as she roamed the moonlit mountains . It had served me . Untouchable , if untouched .
The huntress glanced at my sooted wrists and bent back . As if I needed an oath . What did I know of men ? What did men know of me ?
And what about mortals ? They would dazzle to ash if they forced themselves on her — and if she stooped to desire a man of clay , her ruin was her own .
She turned up her nose and le me to the hearth .