I would have never thought to use a checkered table-cloth as a toga, but Ares manages. At least he's keeping his tongue for the moment. Small miracles; they happen.

"You are looking a little tired; are you unwell?"

"I am quite well. Just been a long week; what with the strangeness, battling Gods of Nightmares, slaying dragons, putting the town back to rights and making funeral arrangement." I say as if I was reciting my list of chores for the week as I set out cookies and sugar for tea. "And how have you been. It's been a while since we've seen you." Three and a half months to be exact, but who's counting?

"I thought I would have a conversation with my daughter. And I confess I was interested to see what your new Kent is like."

I sit down and give him a small smile. "Kent will be down with her in a moment, you interrupted bath time. As to Kent..."

I take a minute to sip my tea, for I do not know how to answer that. "Kent Whitman is... exactly what you wanted me to believe you were, but nothing like you at all. Not that anyone ever could be." I concede with a nod of my head. "And he's not mine." I add on a more serious tone. "He's not a piece of furniture to be owned. He was the option to leave whenever he wants."

Granted, he doesn't seem too minded to leave, and Rose does really want him here...