Dolce had a thick coat of insulating wool, and an upbringing on a perfectly temperate and pleasant planet.

Vasilia had an entire ship to look after, a detachment of hoplites that were behaving rather rudely, a lost princess, a lost comrade, an entire voyage to plan, and a rescue operation to carry out.

Which meant that Dolce was not in the least bit uncomfortable, and that he also had to respectfully communicate with their divine employer. It was only fair. 

“Good day, Lord Hades.” Dolce bowed from the waist, thinking of iceboxes and fresh snow and blustery winds and “We have stopped here to procure a machine mind, to more quickly navigate the stars in your service. Once we have it, we hope to be underway soon.”