"Well, if you know how I am, you could always assist me with the cooking," he points out. "And with some guidance, we won't have to worry about a burnt pan again."

Yes, he knows he already taught Noctis that not long ago - or perhaps quiet some time ago, in Noct's case.

But some good natured ribbing is always in order.

At least they're moving away from the marketplace now, and the butchers, and anywhere else, all to head back to the loft. It's only then that Ignis seems to ease up, shoulder brushing against Noctis's. Still a tad shorter than him, he notes. No unexpected burst of puberty.