“D’you think they’re having fun?” Hestia asks me in between bites of the cauldron cake she’s nibbling on. There’s a spot of chocolate on her cheek, but it’s endearing enough that I don’t mention it. She’s been filling herself with candy for a while now, and I’d cry bloody murder for the enormous check, were it not for the fact that the manager’s son loves Hestia as much as Hestia loves candy.

Translation: Free sweets.

Before I say anything, she continues “Y’know, Lupin, I’m still not sure if I like you.”

“Sentiment’s the same over here.”

Hestia laughs in mirth.