Jamie seemed unfazed by her concern, but she hid her disappointment by taking a long, burning sip of tea. It always seemed like Jamie had something to prove: that he wasn't like his brothers, that he was invincible, that he was experienced enough to handle dragons (while also insinuating that they'd eventually cause his death, which confused her to no end). Bella wished that he'd put away his pride for once, but his pride was so deeply embedded in his being; she was not wholly unconvinced that he would rather die than see his it wounded.

"Well," she said, peeking up at him with a smile, "the least you could do is let me clean your face. You look a caveman," she teased, turning her head towards the pile of folded rags on the counter.

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