"Here," Sorcha said, reaching across the table for the jug and topping off Jocelynn's cup even though it was still more than half full. The wine sloshed slightly as she poured, dark and fragrant, and if Sorcha spilled a few drops, she didn't seem to notice or care. "You'll want that."
Jocelynn looked down at the cup and then back at Sorcha. The older woman settled into her chair, looking comfortable for the first time since the ceremonies began. She drank deeply from her own cup of wine before giving Jocelynn a long, evaluating look.
"I know it's hard," Sorcha said, swirling the wine in her cup as she seemed to come to a conclusion about whatever she saw in Jocelynn's eyes. "Being swept away from everything you knew with no one but strangers around you. I might not have left home the same way you did, but it was like that for me when Wes stole my heart and carried me off to his father's hall," she said in the hopes of finding a way to build a bridge between them.
