Jenny: Fire in the Window

Artos watched the girl dissolve into tears and, while he had rallied himself to help the Guttersnipe out of her predicament, he could not deny the nearly overpowering urge to leave the room or box Domitia in the ear to give her something to cry about. His room was beginning to feel crowded, his leg to ache with a sharp jangling pain. He was aware of the Guttersnipe saying something to Domitia, something about slaves and not having them, and that she was very glad Domitia was not a slave. He found himself thinking, instead, about what Domitia had blurted out about Jason.

"Jason won't forgive me, another man hates me now, and even one of the village boys is giving me dark looks."

Poor, blubbering girl, he thought wryly. The tongue of fire inside the lamp burned itself onto his eyes. To cross with Jason so soon on arriving, and over the Guttersnipe, too... She was an awkward, unlucky creature. Jason was a friendly soul, warm and open - particularly to any who would be warm and open back. But Domitia had to offend him on the one thing in the world he prized most. A very awkward and unlucky creature, indeed.

He looked up presently to see that the rain had slackened off, though the thunder still curdled the heavens. He frowned; reaching out, he covered the fine reflection of the fire on the pane, felt it cold beneath his skin.

The Guttersnipe was saying, "You're covered in flour, and I'm covered in oil. We might as well get back to work and not get each other dirty."

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