Chapter three
Sophia
Sophiastirredthesoapin the pot, waiting for it to reach the silky-smooth consistency necessary before she could pour it into the wooden mold one of the stable hands had made for her.
She’d added a lavender essential oil to this batch, along with the extra goat milk that the goats gave her.
One of the maids at Lady Manning’s had taught her how to make the soap when she was younger, though they hadn’t had any goat milk there. Lady Manning abhorred animals of any kind, which made sense, since none of them liked her, either.
When she’d noticed there was extra goat milk going to waste here at the manor, Sophia had decided to try using it instead of water in a batch of soap.
It had been the best batch she’d ever made.
Of course, when a few other people had tried it, soapmaking had been added to her list of duties for the estate.
The housekeeper had mentioned that she could also sell it at the Fall Festival, at the manor’s booth. She wasn’t sure what or when the Fall Festival was, but she had an idea that it was coming up quickly, which meant she had to get the soap aging before she ran out of time.
Sophia watched and waited and stirred, and eventually the soap thickened and she poured it into the wooden mold. She swirled the top to make it look pretty. It wasn’t a necessary step, but it made her happy to do it. And in her humble opinion, being pretty was just as important as being good soap.
She set the mold to the side so the soap could continue to harden until she unmolded it the next day.
The kitchen staff was cleaning up from lunch and was just about done as she started cleaning up her mess. She had to wash her bowls, put away the oils, and clean the bucket the milk had been in. Nothing much, but Cook would get cranky if she left a mess.
As the kitchen staff finished their chores and filtered out to take their afternoon break before beginning to prep dinner, Sophia began to hum to herself. She didn’t mind the kitchen staff, but she was happiest alone in the kitchen with no one to bother her.
Maybe it was because when she lived with Lady Manning, nobody was nice to her except Rosaleen.
Here, everyone was nice enough…but she wasn’t used to talking to people and didn’t want to draw attention to herself. It was easier to fade into the background and avoid getting close.
She was washing up the last things when the kitchen door opened, and the stranger came in. She jumped, grabbing a dishcloth and holding it to her chest.
Because of course that would protect her from the stranger.
Why did he have to wait until everyone else left before coming into the kitchen?
Hadn’t the other girls said he was a guard? The guards had all had their lunch. Why was he here?
“Hello,” he said. “I’m Caspian.”
Well, he’d introduced himself. Maybe he didn’t have nefarious intentions.
But she still didn’t want to be alone with him.
“I’m Sophia,” she said quietly, picking up the wooden spoon that she had used to stir the soap. Maybe if he tried anything, the spoon would be more effective as a weapon.
Although it would be useless against the sword that was strapped around his waist.
If anything, though, the sword made her a little easier. The other girls must have been right, and he was a new guard hired by Lord Rendon.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said with an easy smile, taking in the way she held the spoon. “I just came to see if there was anything to eat.”
“You missed lunch,” Sophia said. “And Cook gets cranky if we’re snacking between meals.”
He grinned. “I’m sure she won’t mind if I steal a little something.”
“You clearly haven’t met Cook,” Sophia said. “She gets cranky over everything.”
Caspian prowled over to the basket in the corner where the rolls they’d baked this morning were sitting. He picked one up and stared at it. “I don’t suppose you know where I could find something to put on this?”
