There was a knock on the door of the golden chamber. “Enter,” commanded a hoarse voice. Zeus had strained his vocal cords the previous night holding assembly with the Olympian gods, exhorting them to ever greater efforts in cementing the current generation of gods’ burgeoning rule over the world and its people. Grumbling, he reached to a side table by his throne for a sip of nectar.
The door opened, and Hermes, resplendent in the winged helmet and boots that were his signature, entered Zeus’ audience room. “Amphitrite, your majesty,” he announced in a high tenor.
“Amphitrite?” exclaimed a surprised Zeus. “I was expecting her husband.” Poseidon had been absent from the Olympian council the previous night. This was not unusual; the other gods were frequently too busy to attend Zeus’ congresses, some even spurning them for political reasons. But Zeus insisted that his elder brother be kept apprised of developments in the worlds of gods and mortals, and had summoned him here to fill him in on what he had missed. “Hermes, show the lady in. Then be a good lad and fetch some wine from Dionysos’ cellars, for the lady and I to share.”
“That won’t be necessary,” said Amphitrite, insinuating herself into the chamber. “I won’t be staying long.” Zeus marveled at the attractive nereid’s complexion, which always appeared to be shimmering with water even when she had been on land for some time. Nodding, he dismissed Hermes and focused his attention on his visitor.
“Welcome to Olympus,” he began. “Your husband is well, I trust?”
“Well but indisposed,” replied Amphitrite. “He has a lot of prayers to answer. The Greek heroes on the wine-dark sea have been bothering him for help a good deal of late. I offered to go to Olympus in his stead today, as he was rather tired. He apologizes for his absence.”
“Tell him he should have visited in person,” Zeus said, shaking his head. “Audience with me is a duty as well as a privilege, especially for the lord of the sea. Nonetheless, thank you for coming up.”
“An honor, your majesty.” Amphitrite’s face, Zeus noted, was severe and cold as ice, in spite of – or perhaps accentuating – her beauty. His thoughts turned momentarily to his own bride Hera; considering, he decided that while Amphitrite was decidedly the better-looking of the two, he did not envy Poseidon his willful and calculating wife.
Zeus continued. “I’d been hoping to discuss politics with Poseidon. His third of the world and mine have to stay in accord if we gods are to… well…” Zeus caught himself just in time. He had been about to say “retain control of the world,” quite forgetting that the current gods’ control of the world had come through the violent removal of the Titans – including Amphitrite’s father Nereus, whom Poseidon had overthrown. Exacerbating tensions between the Titans and Zeus’ regime would not be a wise career move. “…Maintain harmony amongst ourselves,” Zeus finished smoothly. “Since he’s not here, however, I’m afraid I don’t have much to say. Bring him my regards, if you would. Oh, and tell him to stop playing favorites with the Greek sailors; he’s ruining Eris’ betting pool.”
Amphitrite bowed. “I will tell him – though I suspect he would assure you that his favor is not all it seems. If there is nothing further, my lord, I bid you good day.”
“Good day to you, Amphitrite. May you never lack for power or wisdom.”