Styx stared for a moment, just looking at the cake. Someone brought her a cake. Someone that wasn't her sister. Someone that wasn't specifically her sister, Philotes. Huh.
At the apology, one corner of her mouth turned up. “Nice call-back,” she said, referring to the insult she had given at their previous encounter and was now apparently being taken more light-heatedly. Bravo. One point for the Egyptian. Two, actually, since she'd made it to Hate's door relatively in one piece. Taking the cake plate being offered, she added, “if I let you in do you promise to keep the rude questions and comments to an utmost minimum?”
She stepped aside, to make room for Seshat to pass if she agreed to the terms. Styx loved her children very much, and there were reminders of them throughout her home. Gifts, photographs... The last thing she was going to tolerate was questioning regarding her parenting from a stranger in the very place she raised them in, watch them laugh and grow, and eventually had to stay in alone when they were far away and all she had behind was the memories. If Seshat could not agree to those terms, then she could piss right off and hope Cerberus doesn't eat her on the way out.