Styx did not stand. She remained seated and watched Seshat with an emotion that fluctuated between amusement and irritation. On one hand, at least she had a spine. On the other, She was the one that invited herself down into the Underworld for an impromptu visit and was now upset with how the mistress of the house chose to conduct business with uninvited guests?
“On the contrary,” she started, “you've told me quite a bit about your character.” She swirled the wine in her glass for a moment. “I am not my sister, no one would mistake me for Philotes. I don't generally let strangers touch me, I don't take slights lightly... I am extremely slow to warm to or trust new people.” Information that was not necessarily new or hard to deduct from brief meetings with the goddess. “I never asked you to hike down to my home and present yourself at my door with an apology. I invited you in because xenia demands that I do so.”
She took a drink before setting her glass aside, then crossed her on leg over the other and folded her arms over her chest. “The mere fact that you spent enough time figuring out how to get to my door and then going through with it, letting my scoff at our initial meeting eat away at you for months, tells me that this was not just your need to apologize but a deep need for approval.” She narrowed her eyes. Why would a goddess as old as an Egyptian do that? She had experienced it enough from younger pantheons and younger gods. Never older.
“I don't know why and I don't really need to know. Most anyone else, even those kinder souls of my sister's ilk, would not brave the treacherous path down here just to apologize. They would write me off as an oversensitive bitch and that would just be the end of it.” Styx shook her head. “But you didn't. You're here. In my home, where I have my own rules.” She looked at the Egyptian quite levelly. “What do you really want, Seshat, that would compel you to take such a dangerous journey without any indication that you would be received well?”