Declan didn't know what to do other than loom and tinker with the tea. Once the kettle started whistling, he wandered back to the kitchen and poured them both two mugs — but once he came back with that, he really didn't have much to do other than sit on the opposite side of the table quietly and occasionally sip his tea. It would be rude to go back downstairs, right?

"Is the soup good?" he asked, after several awkward beats of silence. It did not seem like she was up for puncturing it, so he ought to try.