The feather shimmered as it touched her palm, the pink glow of last night still faintly glittering around her. If she flicked her hand, specks of glitter floated to the floor. She might have been made to look more beautiful than a daughter of Aphrodite, but her pink aura just made her beetroot blush more prominent when she was claimed.
A daughter of Hera? What an outrage! Clara only had to close her eyes to remember the shocked and shamed faces of the other campers that night. It was like the image was burned into her back of her retinas as soon as the soft white toga fabric formed around her.
She was still wearing the toga, the gold belt swinging from her hips, her golden hair that was once clipped away from her face had fallen into her eyes. She was grateful; it hid the red puffiness of her tears.
As she paced around her empty cabin, her sandals made prints in the dust. The first one, that was what she was told. The first to be a demigod daughter of Hera. It was huge. Colossal. Hera was meant to be the goddess of marriage - it wouldn't go down well in Olympus to find out she had had an affair with a mortal.
What's going to happen to me? Clara thought, twisting a free lock of hair anxiously around her finger. This was bad news, that was for sure. Hardly anyone had said anything to her when she was led to the Hera cabin, a pink tinted temple right next to Zeus's that was filled with nothing but a statue of her mother.
She had to find answers. She had to find out why she'd been claimed. She had to find Chiron.
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