Laurence mounted the stairs to the shrine with a little frown of disapproval. Autumn leaves covered the stone steps, wet and fragrant from the rains. They were scattered through bushes that were getting slightly overgrown. As he passed under the sacred arch, his frown was positivally stormy.

He found Novalis in the garden, sipping tea with a satisfied expression. "Laurence!" she exclaimed, and smiled at him warmly. "Sit. You're just in time for tea."

"How can you justify this?!" he demanded.

"...tea?"

He pointed back the way he came. "The shrine is a mess!"

"Isn't it pretty?" Novalis asked cheerfully.

"Yes," Laurence said darkly. "And MESSY. Isn't it the monks' duty to sweep the steps?"

"I sent them to holy contemplation, poor dears. Besides, the leaves are so vibrant, doesn't it make you want to climb the stairs?"

He crossed his arms and grumbled. "Also, I disagree with this plan of yours. It won't get the ethereals on our side, and even if it did, who wants them?"

"There there, dear," Novalis consoled. "Sit."

Laurence sat. "The ethereals are scum," he muttered. "They feast off humanity, they-"

A young and handsome gentleman stepped up. "My pardon for interrupting," he murmured, toying with the key that hung about his neck, his eyes glittering slightly despite his apparent modesty. "I believe I was invited?"

"Oh, Inari," Novalis exclaimed happily. "You came. Thank you, dear. Now have a seat, I believe you and Laurence have something to work out."

Inari fluffed his tails and sat, knees folded under him. His expression was deadpan, his demeanour open and curious.

Novalis laughed gaily. "You two have a bit of a chat, I'm off to fetch some treats!"

Laurence stared at Inari, then at Novalis.

After a moment, he whistled in sharp, stunned pidgin angelic, "You bitch."