For the first time in centuries, Medusa's mind was swirling with a whirlwind of complicated thoughts. Three days had already passed in the mortal realm, and she found herself grappling with the daunting task of explaining her unexpected absence to Aleysia, the mortal love of her life.
Amphitrite observed the flurry of emotions playing across the Gorgon's features—the panic, the worry, the underlying fear. A small chuckle escaped the goddess's lips, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"You're really quite lame for the queen of the Gorgons, Medusa," Amphitrite remarked, her tone laced with a hint of amusement.
Medusa's head snapped up, her brow furrowed in a mix of confusion and disbelief. "Huh? What? Why do you say so, goddess?" She asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
"Simply tell your lover that your yacht was stuck in a storm," Amphitrite said, her eyes glinting with a knowing understanding.