Here is the opening gambit for the sequel...

Silently she watched as the Queen slept in her bed, and for as long as she could remember, it was always this way. The Queen's long blonde tresses spread out in a fan across her favorite pillow. It was more akin to the spreading of a peacock's plumage, an analogy the watcher preferred anyways. Her bare shoulders peeked out just above the covers, exposing skin that was so close to touch, but eons away at the same time. Her breaths were even, peaceful, and although the watcher had seen and met many angelic beings, nothing compared to the one woman she could never pursue. Countless nights had passed into years, and never did she fail to check on the human she valued beyond all others. Never once, however, did she linger during the more private moments. She always turned away while the Queen disrobed, bathed, or for even the moments that were of a sensual nature. She was no voyeur in that regard. There were times when she wondered if the Queen knew she was there. Sometimes she heard her own name whispered into the night, but not on a prayer. There were times when her name was uttered as a silent tear fell. But she never made mention of these events, nor questioned the queen about them in any way. She simply watched.

During the normal course of the week, she would visit occasionally. She tried desperately to control the amount of time spent in the other woman's presence. Sometimes she would visit under the guise of spending time with her daughter Athena, who had married one of the Queen's generals. Other times, it was no on no pretense whatsoever. She simply enjoyed the Queen's company, and her presence was never questioned. One would hardly question their patron.

But if she had to be totally honest, she more than enjoyed her company. She was genuinely in love with the Queen of the Amazons. And that was a problem…

Hera couldn't deny how she felt, but she never once uttered it to another soul, to the wind, to the elements, to nothing. To do so would be the ultimate betrayal to her husband, the father of the gods. And while Zeus had been known for his multitude of affairs, love was the line that was never crossed. He simply had flights of fancy, scratched his itch, and moved on. But to fall in love, especially with a human, would bring disgrace to the lightning wielder. He had only assented to his daughter's marriage to one because of her purity, and wise judgment. However, to find out his wife had fallen in love with one would bring a wrath unimagined. Hera would never risk Hippolyta, or the Amazon nation in such a way.

And there was more. She had to consider her daughter as well. The Amazonian Princess knew she had been a gift from the gods to her mother. What Diana, and the Queen didn't know, was that Hera had given a part of herself in the creation of one of Earth's greatest champions. A gift yes, but not from all the gods of Olympus, only hers. No one questioned why Diana was stronger than others; it was just assumed it was because of her heritage through her human mother. In truth, Diana was a demi-god, hidden in plain sight.

So, she kept quiet, and harbored a yearning that burned brighter than any fire Prometheus could give, burned hotter than any fire Hephaestus would stoke, and longer than any eternity anyone had ever believed they had lived through. And to a goddess, an eternity was a hell of a long time.