He appeared in Enyo's temple cleaner than he had been in Deadwood. A pair of dark tan pants and white dress shirt made him seem like a completely different creature, something far more pleasant than a Waster of Cities. Ares sat across from her on a simple wooden chair with a hard back, his seat of choice, and sipped the wine one of her nameless attendants had given him.
Several moments of silence passed until he decided he didn't want to bore his sister. He let the wine linger on his tongue before speaking.
"It was the first time I saw her since returning and she wanted to send me after a god that vengence should have fallen upon while I was incapacitated. Like a hunting dog," he said. Monotone. Emotionless and unlike him. He should have burned the apartment in Paris when he left her in it, but hadn't. The lack of feeling-- what she'd put in his chest the moment he saw her--had disturbed him too much. He turned the wine glass in his hand so the red liquid sloshed at the sides. "I challenged Moros in his own home for my sons. I passed through lightning. That is how she comes to me. A Sumerian who saw me weak in my own temple showed me more respect than my consort. I left her before I struck her. Something I regret. "
Then Aphrodite slept with Soter, apparently. Had there been others before that? Only the Fates knew who had found themselves between Aphrodite's legs while he was in concept. Ares looked at Enyo, contemplating something. His sister didn't care much for feelings, at least, not in the conventional sense. He'd spare her that.
"All of these years. I should have paid more attention to your opinion of her, sister."