And now Melinoë gives Damien a look that reads : really? "Saturday at six o'clock," she delivers flatly. But she still almost winks at him, eye squinting, hinting, and then she gives an actual answer that this narrator is keeping vague. Don't let Mel hear anyone call it a three-way, either.

With a demeanor more serious than a moment ago, the Goddess frees one hand only to occupy it with Damien's own. She squeeze it firmly. "Gratzi, pippolo. For earlier."