"A beautiful view of the sky, isn't it? I looked at many apartments until I found one suitable." He'd always been this picky. Something beautiful and he had to have it. Something less than beautiful, and he quickly passed it by.
It was why he'd taken Hera. And many other women, but perhaps why he'd always returned to his wife.
"Sit down. Would you like something to drink? Wine, water, beer?"
No ambrosia. Not yet. They would see.
She clicked back - her own glass was going to be red wine, a rough, dry cab sauv - but she had a serious selection. He'd always liked his wine, his food, his everything, in great amounts.