Damian draped his wet clothes over a second chair to dry in the heat of the hearth. "I'm finished," he said, stepping toward the fireplace where Eilika remained standing.
He glanced at the untouched tray on the small table. "Why aren't you drinking the soup? It will lose its heat soon."
"I will now," Eilika replied, quickly reaching for the bowl. She stirred the thick broth with a wooden spoon before settling into her chair. The warmth from the bowl seeped into her palms, a welcome contrast to the storm still rattling the windowpane. "The downpour is so heavy. What do you think happened to the carriage driver?"
"I expect he drove back to the cottage once the sky broke," Damian answered, pulling the second chair closer to hers. He reached for the remaining bowl, decided it was best to eat for the sake of their hosts' hospitality.
Damian's thoughts darkened for a moment.
