[ If he were to point out that an apology had already been made, Navia would disagree. An apology made in the heat of the moment, rife with the same pain and anger that caused it to be necessary, hardly counts. It's why she's here now, watching his eyes as he scans the contents of the box he's now holding.

But...

Does it make her selfish, she wonders, to want to see him eat at least one macaron? He certainly doesn't seem ungrateful for the gift, that's not a problem at all, but her pride as a baker demands to see him enjoy that which she has made especially for him. And so she offers a bright, charming smile, a shake of her head that has her golden curls jouncing around her face. ]

Monsieur, [ she says, and there's a disarming sweetness to her tone that practically tastes of the same sugar in the treats she's prepared. ] Would you truly have me come all this way and not grant me the pleasure of seeing your reaction to the snacks I prepared for you?

[ She has no idea at all that she's asking for something impossible, a fact that shows in the hope lighting her eyes and bordering her lips. ]