Jenny: The Gem That Is Uncut

The Guttersnipe pulled herself together and made a dismissive gesture. It still hurt deep down inside, but she shoved it aside at least for show, for Domitia's sake - and for Ambrosius' sake, who wanted her to keep Domitia from the harsh crosswinds that tore through their valley. When Domitia was not sick or troubled, she found herself growing cold and careless toward the Erin-girl, given over to her natural impatience of spirit. Her conscience stung her, and she fought to like Domitia. But Domitia had a knack for making it hard to be liked. Other times, when she dissolved into her curious bouts of illness, the Guttersnipe succumbed to overwhelming compassion. But Domitia...she had a knack for making herself unlikable. She stared at the girl, noting the lines on the face and the brief almost beautiful openness as the other looked to Cathair. There, she thought, is the real Domitia. Not some painted shell, not the roughness of the natural setting: there is Domitia, the way she ought to be.

So she pulled herself together for the sake of the Domitia inside the shell and said, "I understand. Perhaps it would be better if you lay down and did not eat...?" She gestured to the low couch against one wall, drawing a cast-away rug from the back of a chair and draping it meaningfully over one arm as she did so.