Of course she would do it; Endymion had never known Sophie to be anything other than helpful and diligent and keen to please. He would have felt worse if she had actually been invited to the party, as a guest – then her only job would be to enjoy herself, of course – but if she, like the rest of the household staff, was to be working, then he may as well give her a formal excuse to mill about and survey the ballroom scenes. (Besides, she was probably happier as a silent wallflower than amidst the centre of the social scene, so were she a guest she would surely have been ill at ease.)
He didn’t notice the fire in her cheeks, because he was presently peering over the crown of her head as she fixed him up; and he was not embarrassed enough to blush at his own helplessness. “Oh, daydreaming, probably,” Endymion admitted distractedly, half-lapsing into the daydreaming again as they stood here and she wrangled his long-suffering buttons.
“Say, Sophie,” he said, suddenly casting her a look by inclining his chin down towards her. “If you see any of the guests – any lady, that is – doing something... particularly bold or dangerous, will you take note and signal for me too? Anyone doing anything risky.” That was what Carmichael had said when reading his tarot cards about meeting his soulmate, after all. She would be doing something risky, and that would probably be a sign.
Endymion didn’t dare mention such things to his mother to look out for – telling her would be far too intimidating, and he fancied most of his siblings besides Shalott and Lycoris would laugh at him – but Sophie would be watching the crowds already, and she could keep his secrets to herself, certainly.
He didn’t notice the fire in her cheeks, because he was presently peering over the crown of her head as she fixed him up; and he was not embarrassed enough to blush at his own helplessness. “Oh, daydreaming, probably,” Endymion admitted distractedly, half-lapsing into the daydreaming again as they stood here and she wrangled his long-suffering buttons.
“Say, Sophie,” he said, suddenly casting her a look by inclining his chin down towards her. “If you see any of the guests – any lady, that is – doing something... particularly bold or dangerous, will you take note and signal for me too? Anyone doing anything risky.” That was what Carmichael had said when reading his tarot cards about meeting his soulmate, after all. She would be doing something risky, and that would probably be a sign.
Endymion didn’t dare mention such things to his mother to look out for – telling her would be far too intimidating, and he fancied most of his siblings besides Shalott and Lycoris would laugh at him – but Sophie would be watching the crowds already, and she could keep his secrets to herself, certainly.
