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“It’s lovely to meet you both,” Ismene said without the slightest hint of surprise at the sight of a seven-foot-tall minotaur with sweeping horns. Whether it came from years of knowing witches, gods, and monsters or simply being Ria’s mother, she accepted them as naturally as if they were neighbors dropping by for coffee.

Then she clapped her hands. “You must be starving.”

“Mama—”

“No arguing.”

Within moments, she was setting plates on the kitchen island, piling them high with warm spanakopita, sliced fruit, and honey cookies she’d almost certainly baked that morning.

“Eat.”

Asterion glanced at Ria. “Is this…”

“A command?” she whispered.

He nodded.

“Yes.”

“I thought so.” He obediently accepted a piece of spanakopita.

Korinnae needed no encouragement whatsoever. “This is yummy!” she declared after her first bite.

Ismene beamed. “I like this one already.”

Ria couldn’t help smiling before biting into the cookie. “Your melomakarona is still the best!”

“Of course it is.”

“Where’s Appa?”

“Oh,” her mother said with an amused wave of her hand, “he’s probably watching the game.”

Ria blinked. “There’s a game on now?”

“No, no. The finals.” Ismene laughed.

“The finals were in the summer.”

“I know.”

“They won.”

“I know.”

Ria stared at her mother for a beat before bursting into laughter. “He’s rewatching it?”

“Of course he is.” She said it as though there were no stranger question in the world. “He keeps saying, ‘You have to appreciate the strategy the second time around.’”

“That sounds exactly like Appa.” Ria shook her head.

“Oh!” Ismene suddenly exclaimed. “That reminds me.”

She disappeared into the next room before anyone could ask what she meant. A few moments later, she returned carrying a fluffy orange-and-white Pomeranian tucked comfortably in her arms. “And there’s someone here to meet you.”

The little dog looked around with bright, curious eyes before letting out a series of enthusiastic yips.

“He’s very yappy,” Ismene warned, handing him carefully to Ria.