Hera, goddess of marriage and the goddess of all the goddesses on olympia, sits in her finery at her husband's side. Innocent, Eris sidles up to her with malice glimmering in her green, green eyes. 'Do you see Pallas Athena?' Eris asks the great goddess, whose golden eyes instantly sweep through the crowd of revellers. 'That apple she holds is for you.' 'Why say you that, Eris?' Hera asks softly, lifting her cup of heady ambrosia to her lips. 'I would assume, great mother goddess, that it was for you for it says 'to the fairest'.' Nodding absentmindedly, her mind already seething with jealousy and rage, Hera watches Athena intently. Her keen eyes read the script that is etched in the fruit's skin. 'Indeed it is...' Her eyes are held fast to the apple and miss the mischievious smile that blooms on the Goddess of Discord's face.