The dark-haired beauty examined the painting of a young woman embraced by a swan; amusement and repugnance battling across her face. The museum curator noticed her interest and approached.
“Wonderful; isn’t it?” he said.
“Leda and Zeus; right?”
“Yes, the god loved her in the form of a swan,” answered the curator. “A lovely myth.”
The woman arched an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Of course,” said the curator. ‘A beautiful white bird seduced the Queen of Sparta.”
“But… she thought that was sexy?”
“Well, Hera, the wife of-”
“Oh, figures. Cheating bastard shapeshifts so he can bonk another woman.”
“But that union created legends! Helen of Troy, Clytemnestra, their twin brothers -”
“Yeah, but the method! ‘Hey baby, wanna lay my eggs?’ – Worst pickup line EVER.”
“Good point, but-”
“How could a bird force Leda to do anything? He must have offered her one hell of a bribe.”
“Yeats wrote that-”
“Though I suppose Zeus was out of touch with mortals already. Olympus is a long way from Sparta – by altitude anyway.”
Hera left the curator red-faced and spluttering. The goddess of marriage looked forward to watching Zeus squirm when she mentioned her trip to the art gallery, though his infidelity was so ridiculous she could barely keep a straight face. Turning into a swan? As if her husband wasn’t already a bird brain.