“I’m used to it,” Sophia said, cutting him off. “I just wish I had a family sometimes. Or all the time. It must be nice having them so close you can see them all the time.”
Caspian nodded around the lump in his throat. He couldn’t even imagine not having his family.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” Sophia asked him. “It always makes me feel better when I’m having a rough day.”
Tea didn’t seem like it would make his day better, but he nodded. “I’ll take a cup.”
What could it hurt?
“And let me guess, you’re hungry?” Sophia said.
“I’m always hungry,” Caspian said with a grin.
Sophia smirked at him and glanced around the room. “Give me a moment,” she said before she made her way over to the fire, where a hot kettle waited, and poured water into two mugs. She added loose tea leaves to mesh bags and placed them into the mugs.
She brought the mugs over and handed them to him before bustling away again, making her way through the kitchen and pulling a slice of sourdough bread off the counter in a move so swift that if he hadn’t been watching, he might not have noticed.
He grinned. She was a sly one, his Sophia.
His eyes widened. Had he really just thought that?
She wasn’t his.
He shouldn’t be thinking that.
She made her way back to their corner and he didn’t say anything about the way no one had said a word to her in all of that. All around them were voices, gossiping about their day, barking orders, and exclaiming about how little time they had left. But not a soul was paying attention to Sophia.
Not a soul except him.
A few of them had noticed him, though. He raised an eyebrow at Cook as she frowned at him. Cook didn’t like him loitering in the kitchen, but what could she do?
Sophia unwrapped the butter she’d just finished wrapping, slicing off a small bit of it and spreading it on the bread. “Here you go,” she said, sliding it over to him with a smile and reaching for her own tea.
Her fingers brushed his as she took the mug from him, and the corner of his lips turned up in a hint of a smile. “I’m sure that will be enough to hold you over until lunch,” she said.
“I’m sure it will,” he said. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” Sophia said with a smile. “I live to serve.”
“I am very appreciative,” he said, taking a large bite of the bread. It was still warm, and the butter was melting through it. He groaned aloud at the taste, and Sophia bit back a laugh, though part of it escaped anyway.
He wanted to do it again, if only to see that look on her face once more.
Laughter looked good on her. It was the first time since he’d arrived in the kitchen that he’d seen her light up like that.
How could everyone else not notice Sophia? She exuded a warm glow and happiness as she bustled around, making sure that everything was just so. She’d even offered him tea and bread before he’d mentioned he was hungry.
She was perfect.
Maybe that’s what he was meant to be good at—noticing Sophia.
He looked at the girl across from him as she drank her tea, her eyes sparkling at him over the rim of her mug, her long, dark hair tumbling around her shoulders. It was usually tied up, probably so the goats wouldn’t eat it.
He liked it down.
Of course, he thought it was pretty no matter how it was arranged. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.
And he was staring for far too long.
