He almost said that it was not an oath on the Styx and that she was not bound to it but an oath was an oath. It didn’t hold much gravitas if it was to Hippocrates (a mortal of all things! Not even a god!) but it meant something to the humans and apparently to Hera. Nevertheless he was grateful that she was going to stay however unwillingly.
Sitting with a soft sigh, Zeus rubbed his thighs, feeling the bone just beneath his pant legs. They were a small price to pay for the suffering he’d caused others. “So what do we do? I know what I would like to do but I already know that that isn’t anything remotely like what you want,” he said with a small smile. He was feeling stronger in Hera’s presence but his body, beaten and ravaged after years of abuse was still aching and sore. Even a former god’s body can have its limits.