Maybe, she's already dead.

Hera and Leo stared at each other silently, as if making a sound after everything she said was forbidden. After a moment, he looked away and gazed down, his brows raised as he forced a chuckle that only sounded like a deep exhale.

"You're weird," he commented. "You're talking about yourself as if you're a different person."

She wanted to confess, 'Because I am,' but bit her tongue to stop herself. Hera took a deep breath and looked away.

"The tart is bland," she commented, chuckling. "If you need more ingredients, I'll tell the head chef to bring you some."

"You don't have to do that."

"Then if you need anything else, just tell me." Hera set her eyes back on him. "Anything, just tell me. I'll try my best to get them for you since that's the only way to compensate you."

Leo opened his mouth to refuse, but in the end, just smiled. "Then I'm going to take you up on that."

"I don't mind."