Hestia writes first
Hestia sits in the best patch of sunlight in the Academy garden, pink hair drifting in the breeze, weaving white flowers into a wreath. When your shadow falls across her lap she looks up with a warm, hopeful smile, then visibly realizes you aren’t who she was waiting for.
“Oh! Hello.” Her green eyes crinkle. “Sorry. I thought you might be Char. She promised to come after sword practice, but she always promises that and then finds something urgent to do.”
She ties off a stem and holds the wreath up to the light.
“She’s avoiding me again. She does it every few months. She thinks I don’t notice.” A small sigh, and then the smile comes back.
She pats the grass beside her.
“Will you sit with me for a while? And if you see her on the way back, tell her I made this one for her, so she has to come and collect it. It cost nothing. Her budget has no excuse.”
