"She's in the storage room," Linda replied.
A moment later, Celia stepped out, her arms full of vegetables and carrots. Nolan's gaze lingered for a moment—she too was wearing an apron.
"It looks good on you," Nolan said quietly.
Celia carried the vegetables over to the table, set them down, and picked up a knife. Without a word, she began chopping, the rhythmic sound filling the kitchen.
Linda, meanwhile, lifted a spoon from the pot, blew gently on it, and held it out. "Master, say ah," she said playfully.
Nolan instinctively stepped back. "What is happening here? It's like… as if we're married. She's trying to feed me," he thought, almost flustered. Then, hesitantly, he leaned forward, closed his eyes, and let her place the spoon in his mouth.
"How is it, Master?" Linda asked with a hopeful smile.
"It's… really great. Delicious," Nolan admitted.
