The dinner wound to its natural close, the platters emptied, the wine pitchers drained, and the room filled with the soft murmur of servants clearing the table.
The firelight from the great braziers dimmed as the night deepened, leaving only the warm glow that cast long shadows across the marble pillars of Rhea's temple.
Zeus rose first, his movements loud and careless as he adjusted his cloak and stretched as if the night had been nothing more than a tiresome formality.
His eyes flicked toward Hera, lingering a moment too long, but her pointed glare forced him to look away.
Clicking his tongue in irritation, he leaned down to kiss Rhea's cheek, muttering a quick, "It was good to see you, mother."
Then, without waiting for any reply, he swept toward the exit.
Poseidon followed shortly after, his demeanor calmer but his expression unreadable.
He gave Rhea a proper bow, and to Hestia, a small respectful nod.
