She was pleasing; laughter came to her quickly, sparking across her face like wind brushing against chimes. Where he had always found conversation a chore, it seemed to delight her—a talent he attributed to her cycles of working at the Teahouse. Once or twice, he thought he caught a glimpse of the stubborn girl who’d unflinchingly smashed a teacup into his head, but otherwise she seemed determined to get along with him, or at least try.
