Damien’s stomach knotted. “What kinds of things to keep warm?” “Making hemlock tea, having actual fire, boiling big pots of stew, you know.” She gestured to the hearth and its many pots then dropped her voice even lower. “They seemed fairly obvious to me, but sort of extraordinary to him, so I thought, at first, he had gone a little mad with no other fae around since all he does is sit around playing with himself.” The copper mug in Damien’s hand almost gave way under his grip. “He told you that?”
