By the time Jocelynn's mind had caught up with the fact that Ollie had entered her chambers while they were both still in their night clothes, he was already kneeling at the hearth.
He raked last night's ashes aside with the iron poker, uncovering a few coals that still glowed a sullen orange, and fed them a handful of kindling from the basket beside the hearth. A moment later, he leaned down and blew a long, slow breath across the coals until the kindling caught with a soft whump, and small yellow flames began to lick at the wood. Then he laid two split logs crosswise over the flames with the ease of a man who had done this every morning for most of his life.
"There we are," Ollie said proudly, sitting back on his heels and appraising his work as the fire began to crackle. "It'll take the chill off soon enough," he said, holding his hand shockingly close to the flames for a moment as a faint, jade-green glow surrounded his hand, barely visible against the light of the flames.
