Iris had never expected this. To be at Zeus’ beck and call, yes, to keep running as fast as her feet could carry her now that her wings no longer did, yes, but not to be doing this during another war. A war with Cronus. While making the decision to serve the Olympian side had been decided swiftly and firmly, it had not been one Iris made lightly. Her family were Titans, she was one of them. Her own sister was her counterpart, choosing to do as Iris did but for the other side.
Now here she was, her situation even more complex because she had married into a Titan family. She had always been happy to be accepted by them, not to be shunned or mistrusted, and she had every intention of making sure they would never have cause to. She was the messenger of Zeus, nothing more and nothing less, and while she had had to deliver some difficult messages, they were none of her doing. This didn’t remove the responsibility from her shoulders, but she could stay neutral, impassive. There were many who didn’t like to see her, but until now, her position had been respected. Even on battlefields, Iris moved untouched, there only to connect one to another.
It was still a strain.
She was lost in updating contacts and information when she heard the door. It pulled her out of her work and she glanced at the clock, surprised but relieved to see not as much time had passed as she’d suddenly thought. Iris looked down at the papers and books strewn all over her desk, and at the various devices she’d been putting information into. It was a lot.
She pushed her chair back a bit so her voice would carry down the hallway.