“That's a very noble thing, dear,” he said in response to her continued talk about tending the dead. Really, it was a dreary subject in a dreary place and Zeus felt himself craving Olympus. How Hades spent so much time down in the Underworld without being chronically depressed, he didn't understand.
Then he shook his head at her concerns. “Hogwash,” it felt silly and foreign to use such a word, but he was trying to keep this conversational. Some way of giving the girl a comfort in speaking to him. “Remember, your father is our brother,” by which he meant he, Hera, Hestia, Poseidon and Demeter. “And we love him.” Not exactly a lie. There was a certain rivalry present at least between himself and Hades, but Zeus did care for his brother. If anyone messed with him, they were messing with Zeus by proxy.
It was a very, you can mess with me but don't mess with my family, sort of opinion to have.
He reached and hand forward to just pushed some hair away from her face. “And you are not only my niece, but my granddaughter as well. You are welcome at my table, whenever you choose. So, ask.” Zeus gave her a nod and a smile, trying to convince her. “Talk to your father, or your mother. Or both. If you wish, I can ask as well.” Which he was sure would be an incredibly amusing conversation between himself and Hades. Maybe he would do that anyway, just to see if he could annoy his brother.