Hermes had never been afflicted with a blindness of eye or cloudiness of perception where his relatives were concerned. A self-made god, he came into the fold knowing precisely the manner of individuals he was dealing with, and the subsequent degree of subservience to their antics--Zeus's continuously being the most memorable and wrath-inducing. Hera had, and by all appearances, still carried the idea in her head that he enjoyed these jobs--though he did admit, some could be entertaining--and encouraged the behavior, when really it was she couldn't keep her own husband in line. Nobody could have in those days, except maybe Hera herself, had she been less passive aggressive and more of her current militant feminist at the time.
"I already have." He replied, without missing a beat. "All respect in the usual dues, ladies, and I would count it a kindness if you would both bear in mind I've never been married to either of you." He appeared to move on after that, smiling as he did so at the lesser relation across the table. He knew Hera didn't appreciate his presence, and as there wasn't a whit he felt like doing about the matter, he decided to carry on being sociable with a potentially more receptive subject. "I detect the presence of a comrade in service."