Hippolyta knew Byron liked New Themiscyra more, that he liked Penthesilea more than he liked her, and she could only blame her bad luck for that.
If he had fallen into her river instead of Penthesilea's, if she had been the one who reached him first, she was sure she would be the one occupying the bigger spot in his heart right now.
But she wasn't.
He didn't fall into her river, she didn't reach him first, and, for that, she understood why he wanted to make New Themiscyra his base.
Or, like he said, his home.
Understanding the reason behind his words didn't make them sting less though.
The thought that Penthesilea could take another man she loved from her made her more resentful.
'If it wasn't for her,' she thought, sobbing. 'I would be living with my Orpheus. I wouldn't be curdling another man. Now she wants to take him from me also. I can't allow it.'
