[ Even the thought of him not being there – in some capacity in Fontaine – has Furina feel oddly tense. He'd been at her side and now as she's adjusting to the distances she has to impose on herself...

To separate Focalors and Furina.
To live her own life. ]

I'm glad. I hope the halls still smell like that sweet creme. She has a mighty task to live up to ordering as often as I did from the bakery near the plaza.

[ But, even her flip-floppy way of addressing the situation falls short. Her eyes tremble when Neuvillette's words become more sincere, more raw. It was like she was looking more to a man, than an incarnate of draconic origin. ]

...Is your throat not parched from such long-winding words that follow the flow of Fontaine? [ She laughs, perhaps the first genuine kind in a long while. Her eyes try to shut tight enough to keep tears from trickling down but she fails. Doubling over just enough to cut into her cake to hide it. ] Well then. If you're here, do sample and partake in the finest things Fontaine can provide us. Culinary comfort in confections and... the company of ones we hold dear. Perhaps we can find ourselves here more often, sharing.