‘Because I had so much say in that,’ Iain hisses. Harry sits on his bed and hits his hands against his thighs in frustration. ‘I had about as much say in it as you did, Iain. This is neither of our first choice—’ The boy on the pallet snorts derisively. ‘—but the alternative is a lot worse, and for heavens’ sake, Iain, I’m tired. Can we just try to make the best of this?’ There’s no answer. Harry blows out the candles and says his prayers under his breath, adding an extra plea to the Virgin for patience.
