Promises. She brought the outlander to him, to do as he would, but she left him a neat box to play in didn't she? Zeus had already been spoken with. She had given her word that the outlander would not remain a prisoner forever. Yes, so what options did 'Har-Pa-Neb-Taui' have open to him? The oblique suggestion she'd made didn't go over his head - any more than her meddling, once again, did - but Horus couldn't see how such a thing was possible. If the outlander was returned to his former self, then he would want his rulership back, wouldn't he? Horus doubted the elder gods would take kindly to having their 'ceasefire' disrupted, no matter how attractive the chance of being rid of the outlander for good was. Horus turned his back on her to find the courage, the depth of will, to control his facial expression. The last thing he wanted to do was berate her for making any promises without talking to him first.
She should have spoken to him first.
If he were Osiris, she would have spoken to him first.
"It seems you already have something in mind," Horus finally said, without turning to face her once again. "Why don't you enlighten me?'
It was all he could do not to yell at the top of his lungs. Horus' words came in a quiet murmur, but his hands wanted to pull the case from her hands and stomp the outlander into oblivion no matter what promises she'd made. She'd made promises to her husband as well, and to her son, but those seemed to matter little where the outlander was concerned. Part of his anger was unfair. The rest, perhaps, too mild by far. Isis was not a goddess that one wanted to anger, but Horus didn't care how angry she became. If she wanted Horus to stop making her angry, she should stop making decisions that rested with the king and not with her.
All of this was ridiculous. He was acting like a child, no matter how much reason he had to be angry with her.
Although he felt guilt, Horus said nothing else, only waited with his back to his mother and her pet.