He could only stare at your empty room blankly in barely unkept rage, fingers unconciously tightening into a clenched fist. His other hand, which held his trident, only squeezed the divine weapon. The three pointed prongs of the trident gleamed a sickened blue and red, a mixture of the thickened liquid that trailed down the side of the material.
How you managed to escape, Poseidon does not know. The only thing he could fathom to think about was your audacity to commit such a grave crime. Running--no, fleeing from him. It was a cruel joke that he had no intent on playing along with.
He's already storming along the hallways of Atlantis, a shadow covering his face. The sights of his subjects making way from him was enough to irritate him even more. He had no use for their cowardice. They will all be punished for their incompetence for letting you have an inkling of freedom that would soon be crushed the moment he sets his sights on you.
He'll find you. This, he promises. You might not know it yet, but there will be hell to pay. You could only hope to enjoy whatever freedom you have while it lasts. You knew the kind of wrath you've invoked from him. You'd know it, with the rage of the seas prominent and the currents heavy with his anger. As patient as Poseidon had been with you, your husband was never known to be the merciful kind.