"I was mistaken when we first met by thinking you were a serious man. Thomas, stand still," Ophelia said, placing a shirt on Thomas's chest.
"You are making him uncomfortable," said Dante.
"Am I making you uncomfortable, Thomas?" Ophelia asked, ignoring Dante's gaze. "Don't look at him, Thomas. You are my guard, not his."
"You don't make me uncomfortable, Lady Hastings," Thomas answered.
"See, I don't make him uncomfortable. I should have come to the market with only Thomas since he is easier to speak with. This one is far too large," Ophelia said, handing the shirt back to the owner. "If there aren't any smaller ones, I would need to have it made. Or make some," she considered.
"Would you like to have a shirt made for you, Thomas? I am not good at it yet, but I am certain I can learn fast. You can think of it as my thank you for always guarding me," Ophelia said.
