"How true that is," he said with a light chuckle, taking another bite while Hestia was not looking—or at least he assumed she was not looking. "I grew up in a full house. If you wanted the good stuff in the pot, you had to eat straight out of it." Charlie certainly had manners, but he assumed Hestia would not care that he was eating out without a bowl. Charlie was hungry, he usually was.
"We'll see how Gobaith turns out. I have someone keeping me updated with letters a couple times a week, at least."
Once they were sitting down, and Charlie finally had a bowl, he was completely at ease. "This is wonderful, by the way. Thank you for inviting—well—taking me hostage. You didn't really go through all the trouble of making beef stew just for lunch?" he asked, hoping, and assuming, Hestia had other plans for the stew—dinner for herself, her brother, lunch for the following day. "How's your brother, by the way? I haven't seen him in a long time..."
Charlie, digging into the stew, was rather quick to finish the first bowl. "I'm having more," he said, getting up. May I get some for you as well, Hestia?"