They were also both amused. They were gods; they could read a human soul as easily as a man could read letters on a parchment. Nicole had not simply been thanking them for returning her to this time — which she, for incomprehensible mortal reasons, preferred to their own. She was thanking them, too, for all that had gone well in her life since.
And that, Liber and Libera knew, was foolishness. How could it be anything else? She’d done those things, every one of them, herself.