The Wrath of Hera and Five Boxes of Sweets
The meal proceeded in silence.
The only sounds were the clink of tableware echoing through the stillness. It wasn't just Alfia, a woman who seemed incapable of rowdiness to begin with — even Hera, Meteria, and even the Empress, who gave off a distinctly boisterous impression, were quietly going about their meals.
Chomp. Chomp. Chomp. Chomp. Chomp. Chomp. Chomp.
Though the quantity of that meal was anything but silent.
Watching the Empress inhale her food at a blinding pace, one could suddenly understand where all that composure from moments ago had come from.
And as for me, what was I doing?
I-I can't eat any more...!
There, right in front of me, sat a steak.
The fact that it was served whole and thus awkward to manage with one arm was a problem, sure, but that wasn't the real issue.
I was full. Impossibly, gloriously full.
With my stomach already packed to the brim with every kind of sweet imaginable, there was simply no way my hand was reaching for any of that food. The pressure of everyone's gaze had been so intense that I'd felt compelled to pile something onto my plate, but now that it came time to actually eat it, the whole prospect felt utterly hopeless.
I had always been a light eater, for an adventurer. Naturally, someone in my line of work ate more than the average person, but I'd never pushed beyond that. I was hardly the vigorous sort who could stuff a fistful of cookies down his throat and then chomp through an entire slab of meat on top of it.
"Vesta, aren't you eating?"
It seemed my sitting there motionless had been conspicuous, because Meteria, seated beside me, spoke up. Her concern was appreciated — truly — but right now it was kindness I could have done without...!
"No... no, I should eat."
"Oh — is it because you can't cut it? I could do that for you, if you'd like..."
Hera, who had been discreetly watching all along, flinched and gave a small shudder, as if something had just dawned on her.
She'd only just realized she'd chosen the wrong dish, and there was no going back to the kitchen to make something new now. Hera fidgeted helplessly, at a loss for what to do — but alas, Vesta didn't have the luxury to notice.
"Ah, it's fine, thank you."
I raised my knife and pressed it against the meat.
Ting. With a faint, ringing sound, the steak split clean in two — bone and all.
"My..."
"Hoh..."
The Empress and Hera murmured in admiration. It looked simple enough, but the finesse on display was the kind only those who had ascended to the realm of masters could produce, and they offered a small round of silent praise.
Alfia didn't make a sound either, but she opened her mouth with what seemed like approval.
"Nice work. I thought you were a mage — was I wrong?"
"Ah... well, if you had to put a name to it, I suppose mage-warrior would be closer?"
I knew my magic was strong, but if pressed, I'd have to call myself a warrior who happened to use magic. Not a mage who fought on the front line, but a front-liner who also cast spells. That was how my fighting style had always been defined.
"Hm. I see."
At those words, Hera nodded with a satisfied look and returned to her meal.
...? Wait, why is Hera satisfied?
Something inexplicable had just happened, but either way, I'd picked it up, so I had to eat it. First, I'd cut the meat into smaller pieces and take a single bite...
Nom.
"...!"
The instant it hit my tongue, what struck me was a tenderness so profound it practically dissolved without chewing, followed by a burst of rich meaty juices. A masterpiece of superior ingredients and a skilled chef's hand — even an amateur palate like mine could tell as much.
But...
Ugh...
Coming off a food binge, I found it hard to enjoy even this. I stole a glance at my plate — the mountain had shrunk somewhat, but there was still a small hill of food left. Could I really finish all of it?
I was already at my limit, but having picked it up, I had to eat it. One agonizing bite after another, I forced the food down until — at the halfway mark — a signal arrived.
Okay, this is seriously it.
There was no room left in my stomach; I'd been eating by stretching it past its natural limits, and now even that was maxed out. If I were a rubber man, I could maybe have stretched myself out and shoved in a little more, but my body was made of protein, not rubber, and a stomach built of dense, hardened muscle had rather poor elasticity.
Half the steak remained. On its own, this single cut would have been enough to fill me up — trying to eat it on top of a full-on binge had brought me to the limit beyond the limit, and then past that too.
My hand... won't move...!
I knew I had to eat the meat, but my body was flatly refusing. My flesh was sending threats — accept one more refugee and everything currently being housed gets forcibly evicted — and though I gritted my teeth and willed my hand toward another bite, in the end it never even reached my mouth. I set the knife back down.
"Vesta? You look pale — are you feeling unwell?"
"Ah, um... that is..."
I shot a furtive glance at Hera — and found her already looking at me. No, if I was honest, she'd been staring at me for a while now. That was the whole reason I'd been forcing food down in the first place.
And now the limit had arrived. I'd endured and eaten out of fear of provoking Hera's wrath, but the moment of choice was upon me. If I ate another bite — a guess, but a fairly certain one — it was coming out.
It was coming out either way, granted, but not from below. From above. That much, at least, I wanted to avoid at all costs.
"I... um... I'm really quite full, so if you'll excuse me..."
After all that agonizing, the conclusion I reached was simply to tell the truth.
Better to weather Hera's temper than to overheat here. If I actually overflowed at the table, who knew how many times worse the scolding would be?
"I'm sorry...?"
"You're sorry? After all that? But you didn't even eat lunch, Vesta."
"I... I'm sorry..."
"There's nothing to be sorry about, really..."
While listening to Meteria, I kept darting glances at Hera. She sat there in stony silence, her face utterly serious.
Was she thinking about how to scold me? The mere thought made my already queasy stomach turn worse.
"Are you all right? You're not sick, are you?"
"N-no, I'm... I'm fine..."
Under a gaze growing heavier by the second, my voice crept smaller and smaller. I had no idea what exactly had put Hera in such a mood, but just as the mounting pressure began to make my stomach churn in earnest—
"You..."
I flinched.
Hera had spoken.
"..."
"..."
Then, a moment of silence. Sweating cold and swallowing hard without meaning to, I braced for whatever verdict was about to leave those lips.
"...Step outside for a little while."
Not the words I'd hoped to hear, and yet somehow they didn't comfort me at all.
What on earth is she planning to do...?
Was her hysterics about to escalate to the point that I needed to be removed from the room? It was terrifying — but I had no means of resisting.
"Yes, understood..."
Like a condemned prisoner receiving his sentence, I gave a limp bow and left the dining hall. I found a suitable spot, sat down, and waited for my judgment to be handed down.
"Um... she says you can come back inside now...?"
"I'm... sorry?"
Out of nowhere, a member of the Hera Familia delivered the message, and just like that, I was back down in the basement.
"...?"
What on earth was going on?
The moment Vesta left the dining hall—
"Hera, what did you do to Vesta?"
Meteria was glancing at Hera outright — she'd clearly meant to hide it, but she wasn't hiding it well at all. And judging by the way Hera was avoiding her eyes, something had definitely happened between them.
"W-well, it's nothing, really..."
"If it's nothing, then tell us."
Hera mumbled, sneaking furtive glances this way and that. At the sight, everyone around the table turned to stare at her in wide-eyed disbelief.
Hera, cowering? It was every bit as improbable as Zeus being the picture of a gentleman, and everyone found themselves doubting their own eyes.
"Good grief. To think I'd live to see the day that old hag gets tied up in knots..."
Aside from that old incident where she'd been caught stealing Meteria's sweets, Hera had always been domineering and hysterical. Seeing her like this was impossible to get used to. A person needs a healthy streak of shamelessness to be fun to tease — but someone who transformed this drastically left you with nothing to say.
Hera herself, for her part, was too busy gauging Meteria's reaction to pay any of them any mind.
"It's just..."
And so she confessed everything that had happened. And the longer her account went on, the more a look of sheer incredulity swept across everyone's faces.
"Hold on. You stuff a boy full of sweets and then serve him a full meal? Honestly, he looked like he'd been forced to eat the whole thing."
"I mean, he's an adventurer... I assumed he'd have a big appetite..."
"Look at that body! Nothing about it says 'big eater'! How many sweets did you feed him?!"
Hera raised her right hand and spread every finger wide.
"Five..."
"Bags?"
"Boxes, give or take..."
"..."
Meteria was struck speechless.