Aveline was nearly fed up with Hamilton.
He kept sneezing at the worst possible moments, scattering her firewood and nudging her away from the pile with his mouth as though he knew something she did not. She tried to read him, but for once, there was nothing there she could make sense of.
Maybe it was because he was still a baby. Maybe babies simply did not think in any language she understood.
Still, when he sneezed for what felt like the tenth time, she came very close to scolding him.
She stopped herself only because he was far too small and looked far too offended at the world already.
Then she had resumed her efforts. Hamilton sneezed again, but this time…
Aveline froze.
A flame had caught.
Her dress had actually caught on fire at the hem, but she had beaten it out so quickly that the damage was only a small singe, not a disaster. For one alarming second, she just stared.
Then understanding struck.
