Domesticity: Easily Taught, Less Easily Learned

[iwhinny4dragons]

Sybil hadn't done much entertaining that was not a large party or female or both. Usually, both. Nor had she ever taken it upon herself to cook unsupervised, before, though it seemed silly to think she wouldn't be able to. She was quite good at a lot of things, really, though she did not advertise the fact. If cooking was anything like math

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[sir_samuel]

Sam was regretting agreeing to come already.

Not that he could have said no, not really, not with Sybil standing there looking both hopeful and determined when she had asked. It would be simple, she had promised, just the two of them, nothing to worry about, mother will be out - and yet, and yet, there were still the ridiculously overwhelming double-doors, and the wood floors so waxed and polished he could see his face in them, and the, well, mansion-ness of everything.

He still wasn't sure how he felt about this dinner business, either. This was a new step. To what he hadn't quite figured out yet

[iwhinny4dragons]

Sybil swallowed, but smiled graciously, forcing herself to slow to a more respectable pace as she came out from the doorway to the informal formal dining room (which was further toward the kitchen than the Formal formal dining room), and self consciously ran her hands over the front of the dress.

"Sam," she greeted. "Hello."

[sir_samuel]

Despite his fears he smiled brightly when he saw her. "Sybil." He shifted his helmet to one arm and scratched the back of his neck nervously. "How- how are you?"

There was some ettiquette to be followed here, he was most certain, but he had no idea even where to begin.

[iwhinny4dragons]

"Very well," she said, meaning it, now, and stepping a little closer, smiling at him, "thank you. Things have slowed since the funeral and everything, and the last of the family's gone home. You look-" She took in the polish and the other ways he'd clearly brushed up, and smiled more, if softly, and blushed a little.