Were they in a less public arena, Sonia might have entertained that question gladly, but instead here they are, sitting in the snow, Byerly making the most pitiful face that she bursts out into a peal of laughter.

"You're a terrible con, Byerly," she says with a flash of her eyes, holding the maple sugar aloft. It's not sincere; she knows he's very much still playing his game. "All that, just to steal a poor, lonely maiden's only sweets? Cold, sir, cold."