Hestia simply bowed her head further in acquiescence. She silently gathered the plates and returned them to the tray before leaving the dining room. Once she knew she was out of earshot, she let out the smallest sigh of annoyance. It's cold. Cold my arse. She began mocking him in her thoughts.
When she arrived to the kitchen for the second time, she had to step around the house elves who were still bustling about. She wouldn't dare ask one of them to help her out. She was by no means in charge of them, and they all tended to look at her with dark looks, like she was weaseling in on their chance to serve the master. She wanted to tell them they could have him for all she cared, but she couldn't even do that, either.
Sitting the tray down and manually turning on the oven, she looked at the food she had so tediously prepared. It was probably one of her better accomplishments at cooking, really, and he had the nerve to say that it was cold. The steam was still wafting upward and the smell was oh-so tempting. She knew it wasn't cold as it sat there tantalizing her. Did she dare sneak one tiny bite? She licked her lips with the thought. The warmth of the food would be welcome to her stomach. Even if it wasn't gourmet, it would be better than the things that she had to live off of. Stealing stale biscuits when no one was looking was alright when it had to be, but throwing this food in front of her like this was just plain evil.
In the end, she resisted. She returned the food to a skillet and allowed it to heat through without letting the outside burn. She placed the food onto a clean plate, thoroughly certain it was just as neat and tidy as it was the first time she brought it out to him. Returning everything to the tray, she swiftly made it to the dining room and placed his fresh food onto the table.
"Would you like me to fetch your house shoes, sir, so that I may properly repair the ones you are wearing?" She asked without thinking.