Oh, he was quite the jokester, wasn't he? This god was more amusing than his stories had let on, and Lottie was quite certain now that he wasn't Bragi. From all she'd heard of the bard god, he reveled in his word choices and would likely have found some way to play off of the term virtue, rather than just agreeing that Zeus was a dog. Which he totally was.
But there was no way that she believed this god was Odin either. For starters, he had two eyes. And he wasn't old. He didn't have a beard down to his belly. Nor did she see any wolves or ravens about. She had a very clear picture in her head of what Odin must look like from her visits with other Norse gods she'd met, and this man didn't fit any of that. At all. Not even close, actually.
So she grinned at “Odin” and whispered back, “Well then you're the perfect person to answer the question of how good your virtues are, and from what perspective I should be viewing them.”
Lottie leaned back slightly, aware that too much whispering would actually make the others in the room more interested in the conversation. People always wanted what they couldn't have, even if it was just a few words that were kept out of their reach. Best not to let them get too interested, or it would be impossible to carry out an actual conversation.
“Life is about perspective, don't you think?” she queried in at a more normal volume. “I once met a girl from--” Lottie had to stop and think. She couldn't say Sumer, because Sumer didn't exist any longer and that would make her sound quite old. What was it those caliphates called it? They named it after Uruk, that city she'd been in, she was pretty sure. Oh yes. “The land of Iraq, and she said there's a saying there: the thief thinks everyone steals. We all view things from our own perspective, don't we? Sometimes it is hard to look at things from another's point of view. A goddess of say, fidelity, or modesty perhaps, would not look on all of Odin's actions kindly, I'd bet. Fortunately, I'm neither of those. And I'm sure that overall, Odin--” Here she paused and leaned closer to whisper again, this time accompanied by a knowing wink. “I mean you--” Then she sat back again and continued as if she'd never interrupted herself, “Is very virtuous and upright in his moral standing and does only what he feels is right and noble. And really, compared to the Greek king, he is a paragon of virtue. Have you heard the story about Danaë?”
Philotes turned her head to look for the serving girl, keeping the god in her peripheral vision so he wouldn't think she was ignoring him. “I'm almost out of mead. Once I get my cup refilled, I'll tell you what really happened there. It's scandalous, really.”