Hades narrowed his eyes, not at Hel, but at the people involved in the story itself. He could believe that everything she said had happened in exactly the way that she described. That was easy. Hades had experienced first hand the lunacy that followed soothsaying. But that didn't mean Hades thought it should have happened that way. The events themselves sounded wrong, illogical, and completely unfair.
“So your people heard about a potential threat and thought the best way to make sure there wasn't one was to banish three different children against their will, children they didn't understand very well, away from each other, their home, and their family with less than amicable feelings towards their exilers, and to give one of them a growing kingdom of the dead?” Odin didn't sound all that wise to Hades. At least as far as this story was concerned.“That's... a great idea. Like swallowing your children so that none of them will want to overthrow you someday.”
A hint of bitterness crept into his voice during the last part. Hades couldn't really help it. Prophesy tales. Sordid and motivated by fear were very accurate understatements. Hades was surprised, but mostly impressed that Hel could talk about all of it and seem so nonchalant. Hades felt outraged on her behalf and he'd only heard about it in brief detail. Hel had been there. She'd experienced it.
“I hate oracles,” Hades said, “People use what they say to excuse deplorable behavior by saying the end justifies the means. Then they're shocked for some reason when it turns out that the means is what justified the end, and if they'd had a better means, they would have had a better end. Which, if they hadn't gone to an oracle, would have seemed obvious.”
The only thing anyone could do to try, try, to guarantee good things in the future was to do good things in the present. Everyone knew that. Everyone practiced it to some extent. The only way foreknowledge did anyone any good was if it was used as a warning to become more prepared. But the moment an oracle became involved, people panicked. They forgot. They heard about bad things in the future, and did bad things in the present, because the good future didn't exist to them anymore, and this guaranteed that the prophesy would turn out self fulfilling. In most cases, Hades believed the best way for an oracle to save the world from their doom prophesies was to keep their mouths shut.
“I'm glad that you found happiness in the end, anyway,” Hades said, “But I'm sorry about the circumstances.” That was all he could say about that really. The destination had turned out alright for her, but that didn't always make up for the journey.
A bit later, it occurred to him that the queen's visit hadn't initially been intended as a social call. Hades had been enjoying her company so much that he'd almost lost sight of her actual purpose.
“I'm sorry," Hades said, "You said something about a subject who wants to come here?” Or something like that. He didn't remember the exact wording.