Nephthys watched him for a moment, unsure of herself, and then went to shower. She scrubbed her flesh hard, wanting to remove all trace of that strange goddess. There had been nothing wrong with Iris: she had been sweet and kind and... well, it had certainly been enjoyable, but she wasn't Set.
Finally Nephthys emerged, skin hot and damp, long hair hanging in black tendrils down over her shoulders.
"I'm sorry," she said again as she sat down on the couch, wrapped in one of the white hotel towels.