Part of him wants to press, wants to inquire further about the sudden and aburpt end to her story, wishing to know exactly how it would have finished. Obvioualy there had been a time when Evie's own mother had suffered a similar experience and perhaps it could shed some light on what was afflicting her now.

It's made all the more difficult by the soft words that fall and only cause his worry to increase, before she hurriedly asking for soup. The rwuqest seems strange and rushed, and he almost questions it, before pushing down his curiouaity in favor of fulfilling what she had tasked him with.

"Of course." Offering her a soft smile, he leans forward, placing a gentle kiss against her temple before standing, taking the discarded tea with him. "I will be back soon."

Last words still rolling over within his mind, he makes the trip down into the bowels of the ship, returning the mug to the galley and taking a moment to speak to the chef, asking that some soup that might be suitable be prepared. Some time later he returned to her, two steaming bowls of hot cabbage soup balanced carefully a small tray, along with some of the dry crackers they often kept abaord for the longer journey's.

"I have been told this may help." It would certainly be bland enough that it couldn't possibly offend her.