DANTE

I arranged dinner in the sitting room without Lyra's help, which meant I arranged it slightly badly and the timing was off and the bread was not as warm as it should have been.

Kira sat across from me and ate the slightly badly arranged dinner with the expression of someone who was deciding whether to comment on the bread and deciding not to.

"The bread," I said.

"Is fine," she said.

"It's not as warm as—"

"Dante." She held my gaze. "The bread is fine."

I looked at it. "I should ...