“Evening Boris, are you well?” Ivy asked. “My left foot is giving me fits, but otherwise I’m doing just fine I suppose,” he said, carefully setting the tray down. “I could help you with your foot if you’d like,” she said, already reaching to assist him in setting out the food. “One healing tincture should have you right as rain.” “I’d appreciate that very much,” he admitted. “But only if you’re able.” Ivy smiled, adjusting one of the dishes on the table. “Able and willing, love. Just give me to the morning to mix it up for you.” Watching her, Silas’ chest warmed.
