The look on Osiris' face when he finally deigned to cast his gaze upon Set's features was positively delicious. There was a tremor of ferocity in it, despite Osiris' masterful talent at controlling his emotions; Osiris judged fairly, delighted in all things good, and frowned heavily upon the darker aspects of life. But what did he know of true balance, that there cannot be light without darkness, and wasn't Ra's everlasting journey proof of such a thing?
Let us not forget: The Good King Osiris had not one suspicious bone in his body, until recently--well, it certainly would be a tale for the history books, wouldn't it? Let Thoth impeccably describe everything. It was his way in the same manner this random visit was simply Set's way.
The storm god leaned forward when Osiris spoke, ears alert and a look of false disbelief upon his face.
"Osiris, surely I'm not hearing displeasure in your tone. Can it be? Has this new existence soured your pleasant disposition?" Standing upright again, a delighted glimmer remained in his eyes, though the corners of his mouth curved downwards in a frown that was as false as his alleged concern. But it didn't last for long; in a split second his expression changed to vague annoyance, truthful boredom, erasing any sympathetic mask he'd previously worn. His tone hardened.
"Enough about Anubis. Let him be content to weigh the curiously fragile hearts of mortals. It doesn't concern me."
Oh, Anubis was decent company enough, but Set didn't go out of his way to say hello to the jackal-headed man with the quiet smile. Seeing Anubis was always a bit alarming, and Set didn't care to feel alarmed (especially not when Anubis' birth had been much an infuriating mystery). Others, yes, let them be alarmed, frightened, cowered, shown how mighty he was, but let him stand apart as was only fitting. Chaos would come forth from Set haphazardly, like the windstorms he caused when the mood was right. He would instigate chaos, partake in it and reap the rewards, but that was all. Always, always, even when in the thick of supposed danger, the struggle, the pitting of one man against another, a part of Set would be removed from the happenings.
It was a god's right to look down upon their creations. They had been granted divine wisdom and power, hadn't they? But things could not remain peacefully stagnant forever. Surely it didn't reflect badly upon Set if he chose to stir things up a little, while nearly everyone else chose to live a quiet, mundane life. There were always casualities in any war. Osiris never had understood this, even when they were but children and playing together under the watchful eye of Nut.
"Tell me how your kingdom fares, dear brother. What is it like, being Lord of the Underworld?" He glanced around the throne room before his eyes settled upon Osiris once more. "It is good to see you in one piece again. Isis has quite the gift, so skilled with her hands."