Zeus nodded at her, his expression every bit genial as he greeted her.
"Thank you, my lady," he said, one corner of his lips going up just slightly, forming something of a half-smile, half-smirk. He caught the meaning behind her actions almost instantly—Zeus was, after all, far from a fool. He was shrewd, ambitious, and—perhaps more than anything—determined to be a good king, a just ruler, to establish a wondrous court.
As his blue eyes followed her, he could not help but note that she was a sight to behold, with her long, dark locks flowing in the wind, her elegant, angular features, her full lips, and the way she moved. Indeed, perhaps her movements were the most captivating of all; the witch goddess moved with authority, with confidence unsurpassed. And yet, there was also something almost foreboding about her, an edge that made Zeus inclined toward caution.
"My lady, it occurs to me that there are honors to be bestowed, promises I made that must be kept," he said, thoughtfully as he looked over the land before glancing back at her. "When we gathered here, to plan the war against my Father, the previous King, and his brethren, I vowed that those who fought with us would not be cast from their posts, but would retain them." He paused. "I hope to take that a bit further. It is my wish to invite those who fought with us, all of them, to the court that will be established here—once construction is completed, of course." And that should not take very long at all, he thought.
"I am making you a Countess," he said. "Countess of Sicily." He paused again. "And I would be very honored if you would be one of my highest counselors," he added.