Hades did not like asking for anything. He especially did not like asking his siblings. He most especially did not like asking Zeus. But this was the most critical issue Hades had ever faced, and his idea, to avoid it, hadn't worked. He couldn't avoid it. It dogged him. Always. His work had started to suffer a little and that was unacceptable. Lethe water wasn't selective enough to just remove one thing. Feeding his sister to his dog would be wrong and wouldn't solve the main issue. Hades was out of ideas. When it came to this sort of thing, Zeus was never out of ideas.
If it had anything to do with the Underworld, Hades would sooner feed himself to his dog than call on Zeus. Hades was sure that Zeus would delight in any opportunity to give him advice about the kingdom Hades ruled. It would give him some sort of smug satisfaction and feed into Zeus's delusions about being the best king out of the three of them just because he got the cushiest lot. Zeus was a good king, but Hades wasn't a bad one. There was a difference between ruling the Underworld, and ruling a bunch of children with daddy issues when you're their daddy.
But this didn't have anything to do with the Underworld. This was personal. And it was something Zeus was definitely good at, and Hades was definitely bad at. So Hades had arranged the meeting and now stood by trying to get his throat to work properly while Zeus judged the inaccurate statue representations. Hades barely even glanced at his own. When no one was watching Hades removed the helmet.
“They did a good job with your nose,” Hades said from right beside his brother. Zeus looked well, pleased and not at all distressed or troubled. All of his limbs were exactly where they should have been, and seemed to be working properly. Hades checked. Zeus was alright. It was good. “Much better than with Po's,” Hades pointed out.