Snippet #1072206

Kit's newly-attuned ears made her much more sensitive to the minutiae of her playing, and she relished it. The same ears told her that someone- Amunet, judging from the walk- which, she decided, was light-footed but steady and strong- had approached the slightly-ajar door to the room she was in and was standing there. Whatever new sense the disease had given her to make up for her blindness informed the young woman that her newfound housemate was in some emotional turmoil, that she was trying to suppress.

Kit could understand that, and she did not disturb Amunet's reverie by saying anything. Speech, in her opinion, was largely overrated when so much could be expressed in other ways. When she came to the conclusion of the melancholy nocturne, she shifted instead to one of Hayden's more lively numbers, one that had her fingers trickling up and down the keyboard as though teasing it. Happy music, in Kit's estimation, was not designed only for happy occasions, but also for those where its influence might lift a spirit or provide a balm to a broken heart. Not a cure, though it had been her medicine often enough, but simply a delicate relief, a salve.

At the conclusion of the second song, Kit replaced the cover over the keys, and turned to where Amunet was standing. "Are you hungry?" she asked softly, choosing to ignore the woman's still-delicate state in favor of pretending she hadn't noticed. What was there she could say or do anyway? Kit knew well enough the pain of losing those yo held most dear, and also that there were no mere words that could ease that pain, or at least none that she knew. "I'm sure Norman has made dinner now, if you'd like something to eat?"

*

Norman noticed the shift in song, perhaps fittingly, as he finished scouring the kitchen and was pulling out utensils and checking supplies. There would be no cooked meals tonight, he decided. Better to do something simple and call it an early night, perhaps. Kitty shouldn't be allowed to go too much longer without sleeping, and unless he missed his guess, Miss Amunet was fatigued as well.

This thought firmly in mind, he swiftly pulled a few fresh vegetables from the fridge (or at least the ones that had kept), and a few more directly from the garden. With a flare and ease that would have impressed Chef Ramsey himself, Norman sliced through the produce with one of Giovanni's large, ever-sharp knives, assembling a salad that channeled the Mediterranean region, particularly in its use of the versatile olive.

A plate in each hand, he advanced to the dining room, which was mercifully free of dead anything, instead being just a tad dusty. That would certainly be on his list of tasks for tomorrow, along with inspecting the rest of the garden to see what else was still in order and what would need some tending to, and of course a full preparation of each of the guest rooms. He had a sneaking suspicion that Miss Katherine would not stop at one guest, and he needed to do everything possible to make sure that the property could sustain that many people. Money, of course, was not an issue- but the availability of purchasable items just might be.

The butler sighed to himself. Perhaps a trip into the center of town might be in order for tomorrow. Kitty would probably want to come, if only to invite other people without a place of refuge to stay with them. Norman frowned, contemplative. He'd have to try and convince her that such a thing was not a good idea. Their current visitor seemed well enough, but... one could never tell what sort you'd run into in the middle of Exodar.