Hera tilted her head to the side for a moment, studying her brother. The way he stood. His facial expression. The way he held his head. There was an edge to him that had not been there a moment before, subtle, barely perceptible, but still, it was there. And she did not like it, because she had enjoyed the productive discourse they had been holding forth thus far.
She could only assume that she'd touched a nerve and offended him with a perceived slight somehow. One that was not intentionally given, nor one she could recognize as she thought back over the words she'd just said. She had only offered Hades her honest opinion, and she'd even tempered her words, biting back some of the blunter things she wished to say about their sister. And his wife. It was impossible for her to apologize for something if she did not know what the problem was.
Not that she had any intention of apologizing in any case. She was right, and she was only telling him because she wanted to help him. If there was a similar circumstance in the future, Hera hoped that he would have learned from this little fiasco that he should come to her rather than Zeus. She was the one that had his best interests at heart, after all. Zeus liked to play politics. And look how that had back-fired in this instance.
Hera crossed to her brother, slipping her arm through the crook of his elbow, linking herself to him in an overt show of affection. It was the best she could do in lieu of correcting whatever he thought she had done wrong. And besides, she did love Hades. Even when he was being... sensitive.
“I am not sure then,” she admitted sincerely, “why you would settle on Persephone. She would have to make, has had to make, just that adjustment. And really, I think Ilithyia would have suited you better. Not just because I think your personalities would have complimented, but there is a certain elegance to the joining of death and birth.”
She gave him an indulgent smile. “I am rather good at this, you know. Finding those who work well together. And all I would wish, dear brother, is that you find happiness with your bride. Can you tell me, truthfully, that you are happy with a wife you must share? And you get the lesser portion of her time. That does not seem at all fair. While I would have missed my sweet Ilithyia, I know how well you would have treated her, and I would not have made such demands. Demeter threw a temper tantrum and you're the one that has to suffer for it. I did try to argue on your behalf, but you know how she is.”
Hera rolled her eyes. Then she sighed, and asked very, very softly, “Do you love her?”