Noah helped Daisy settle onto the couch in her private sitting room before he strode over to her beverage cabinet. Rummaging through the shelves, he found a coffee mug and a kettle. He pulled out his wand and filled the kettle with steaming hot chamomile tea, but poured the mug by hand.
He turned back to her, noticing she had pulled a gray, woven blanket off the back of the couch, which was decorated with a southwestern Native American pattern. Despite the heat of the room, she had wrapped it around herself tightly, clinging to it as if it offered her a layer of safety.
“I don’t know if Americans really care for tea, but since you were born a Brit, here,” Noah offered, handing her the mug carefully. “Drink it. It will help.”
Daisy took the mug absentmindedly, simply staring straight
