Hell's Royal Palace
Dinner had ended, and the long dining table was scattered with empty plates. Nena's sharp voice called out, "Maids, gather these!" and the servants immediately complied.
Hermes sat stiffly in his chair, picking at the last bit of pastry. "I really should be going," he said, his voice carrying a faint restlessness as he pushed his chair back carefully.
Azreal leaned back, arms crossed, and remarked, "Yes… you've overstayed already."
Nena shot him a glare. "What do you mean? Are you trying to drive Hermes away?"
Azreal raised his hands in mock surrender. "No, Nena, that's not what I meant. You heard him—he wants to leave. I only supported him."
Nena's eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me, I know you too well."
Hermes chuckled, shaking his head. "Yes, Nena, he was trying to drive me away so you could keep feeding him anytime I wasn't around."
Azreal groaned. "As a god, you should be ashamed of lying like that."
