Poseidon shifted uncomfortably in Amphitrite's ornate throne, aware that he was treading on dangerous ground. The moment he had settled his imposing form on the elaborately carved seat, he had felt a subtle shift in the air, as if the very essence of the room had recoiled at his presence.
His wife's words, when they came, were laced with a familiar edge of irritation. "If that's what you want, you don't have to go that far to my sanctuary to do it; just say the words; I might agree."
Poseidon rose from the throne, a faint hint of unease creeping into his expression. "What do you mean, wife?"
Amphitrite's gaze narrowed, piercing him with a sharp edge. "We talked about this before; the day you wanted a divorce is the day you forcefully sat on my throne. You know it well, I don't like people sat on my throne." Her voice was low, dripping with warning. "You know how much I despise people who take me for granted, do you?"
