After glancing at his king with a questioning expression, Eros’s eyes darted to the door as if something called for him in that moment. Shadow had remained still, lingering near the door and continuing his efforts to remain unseen.
Eros narrowed his gaze, trying to determine whether a figure was present inthatspot or if it was merely a product of his own imagination.
What are you looking for?
As Shadow shifted away from the door, Eros’ gaze also moved in the same direction. He was following Shadow, even though there was nothing to be seen—only to be felt.
“Brother, what is the reason for your quietude?” Zeus asked Poseidon, his eyes darting to the man sitting at the end of the table.
The brothers chattering captured Eros’s attention, pulling him away from trying to find what—or perhaps who—he was looking for.
He has ceased giving me his attention.
Perfect.
Shadow turned his attention toward the other god, and if he were alive, he certainly would have rolled his eyes at the sight of him.
There’s no way he would have left his weapon in the sea. He had to carry it to demonstrate his authority, despite being obedient to his brother, Zeus.
Feeling envy over his own blood.
Pathetic.
With his hand gripped around the trident, Poseidon raised his eyes to Zeus and moved his lips into a straight line, the wirybeard hair encircling his mouth subtly scratching against his lips.
“This should not be characterized as quietude, but rather as contemplation,” he responded, his profound, authoritative voice echoing throughout the room.
The king raised an eyebrow at him and placing his hand on the table, assessed the man. “Are you contemplating? Upon what subject?”
“Do you not think you may have exhibited a degree of arrogance during the discussion?” Poseidon spoke, and the irony in his words was palpable in the strained atmosphere. “It is not the aspiration of a true king to seek the admiration of wretched mortals.”
Even though I had not been present there, I’m sure he showed off and embarrassed himself over there.
Zeus straightened his back and raised his chin to look down at his brother, as his prominent jaw clenched.
“Without arrogance, a king is not a king,” he told his relative, letting the corner of his mouth curve up into a defying smirk. “Arrogance arises from having the ultimate power; a privilege you are not familiar with as you do not possess it.”
As Zeus’s voice became more intense, the atmosphere intensified. The two brothers were shooting daggers at each other simply by maintaining eye contact.
The narrative remains consistently boring.
An angelic voice silenced the room. “Are we finished with this performance? Our purpose in gathering here today is to address this year’s gambit, but you have only engaged in conflict.”
Well, if it isn’t the goddess of peace and family herself—Hestia.
Her cerulean eyes were radiant, filled with the light of absolute hope, and her rose-colored lips formed a small, tentative smile as she took her time to analyze each of her fellowgods. Upon reaching Zeus, she swiftly glanced at Eros, who offered a reassuring nod.
As if to speak, Zeus’s mouth parted open but then snapped shut, all while maintaining his unwavering stare on Hestia. Not once did he look away from the goddess whose white hair danced on her shoulders.
Curious thing.
Zeus has always spoken his mind, never holding back until now.
“The meeting is adjourned,” Zeus announced curtly, his jaw tight. He then glared at Eros. “Eros, you are to remain.”
If the tension in the room was high earlier, it now surpassed that. The clash of gods began sooner than expected, and it might’ve been possible for everything to turn out more interesting in the end.
Quietly thrilled, indeed.
