Well, this was becoming awkward rapidly and Zeus was not particularly fond of awkward situations. He had the suspicion that he was making his niece uncomfortable, though as to why, he was uncertain. He hadn't really done anything untoward or even forward. He was simply being... cordial. Though, Zeus had his suspicions that given the fact that Makaria had been mostly unknown to him and the fact that she lived in the Underworld, she was poorly socialized and unaccustomed to dealing with Olympians.
Perhaps he should make the suggestion to Hades that Persephone at least take Makaria above from time to time. The last thing Zeus wanted as a socially retarded niece. That would be an embarrassment. Yes, he would have to do that. But he'd have to find a way to make his rather prickly brother think it was his idea from the beginning.
Zeus nodded. “Yes,” he was going to ask her whatever other reason she thought would bring him to the Underworld - it wasn't like he vacationed in that dark, dismal place; but he chose to be nice. She didn't know any better. At least, he was going to chalk it up to ignorance.
Then a curious question struck him. What exactly did Makaria do that helped her father? He should know, shouldn't he? Had Hades told him? Had Persephone ever, for that matter? Considering up until this moment Zeus wasn't even that aware of Markaria's existence, it was unlikely. The most efficient way of finding out would be to ask. “What is it that you do down here, Makaria?”