Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Sylvia didn't have a chance to stop him-Rupert had already picked up the things lying on her couch.

Half-finished scarves.

Skeins of yarn in every color imaginable.

Some she'd started, only to realize the color wasn't as nice as she'd thought, so she tossed them aside. Over time, the rejects became a little mountain of half- completed projects.

In the end, she couldn't decide between deep red and black.

Rupert, of all people, definitely didn't need anything black-his closet was full of it. But she was afraid he might actually prefer black anyway, so she ended up making a black scarf too.

The pile on the couch made it look like she was preparing for a grand event or something.

"All these for me?" Rupert asked, his voice as unreadable and cool as ever, like he was just making small talk.

Sylvia instantly regretted everything. Had she been too presumptuous?noveldrama

Embarrassed, she tried to shield the scarves with her arms.

"No, no, I just haven't knitted in a long time, so I bought extra supplies in case I messed up."

Rupert leaned past her and picked up one of her earlier attempts-a scarf barely as wide as his hand, with several stitches dropped.

"Definitely a little rusty," he commented.

Sylvia rolled her eyes and snatched the ruined scarf away.

"Of course it's not as good as the store-bought ones," she muttered.

If he didn't like them, he didn't have to take them.

She'd put a lot of thought into this, but now it felt like she was being mocked.

Orson, who'd been watching all this, winced internally. He had to admire Rupert's absolute lack of tact. Quickly, he jumped in to change the subject.

"Ms. Lloyd, Mr. Rupert asked me to make you some ginger tea on the way back. Where do you keep your ginger? I'll get started."

Sylvia's mood softened a little.

"I think I'm out of ginger. I'll see if Ms. Ward next door has some."

"Great."

Sylvia tiptoed out and knocked on Ms. Ward's door.

Ms. Ward took one look at her and frowned with concern. "What's wrong, honey?"

Sylvia hadn't told Ms. Ward all the

details about what happened with Warren. AMs. Ward knew was that Sylvia's blind date had been a

disaster, and Sylvia had ended.ne

caught in the crossfire somehow. So she'd been extra attentive ever since.

Sylvia leaned against the doorframe. "Nothing serious. Just came to borrow some ginger. My stomach hurts."

Ms. Ward immediately understood. "Don't you worry about it, dear. I'll make the tea and bring it over myself."

"There are people over," Sylvia said

rdly.

Ms. Ward smirked knowingly. "Oh, I see. I'll just get you the ginger then."

She shot a glance at Sylvia's front door and her eyes twinkled. A minute later, she

handed over a plateful of ginger.

"Oh, and about that knitting

technique you wanted to

learn-remember? I recorded a video for you. I'll send it over later. But honestly, when you're knitting for a man, keep it simple. Don't overthink it." swñovel

Sylvia wanted to say she'd wanted to make something special, but Rupert's reaction to the scarves flashed through her mind. She forced a smile. “He helped me out, so this is just a thank you."

Which was true, really.

If it hadn't been for Rupert, she might've had to relive that nightmare again.

She took the ginger and went back inside.

Orson gave her a look she couldn't quite read, then turned toward the kitchen to make the tea.

Sylvia didn't think much of it. When she walked into the living room, she saw Rupert standing out on the balcony, smoking. The winter sun cast a long shadow behind him, making him look even more distant and aloof. The cold wind ruffled his hair, and for a moment, he seemed almost untouchable.

"Ms. Lloyd, the ginger tea's ready," Orson called.

The words startled Rupert out of his thoughts. Sylvia quickly turned away, pretending she hadn't been watching him, and walked to the table.

"Thank you, Orson."

"No problem," Orson replied, suddenly sounding much more reserved.

Before Sylvia could figure out why, Rupert came in from the balcony, face unreadable.

"We're leaving," he said simply.

"Uncle Rupert..." she started, but when she turned around, he was already out the door.

She was left feeling a bit confused, but didn't dwell on it.

In the car, Rupert leaned back with his eyes closed, but his fists were clenched

tight.

He kept replaying Sylvia's words in his mind.