"Did she now? She has an impeccable sense of aesthetics. Mayhap she'll finally put you in some decent clothing so that I'll be less embarrassed being seen walking with you."

He doesn't mean it of course. How Hythlodaeus (or anyone) chooses to dress is a distant consideration.

After letting them out of the shop, Hades pauses to lock the door. The cold, winter air immediately assaults him, warded off for the most part by his coat. He turns back once he's done, glancing up at his friend.

"Where to...?"