Lashing out sharply Kons’ fist connected with Skeeter’s nose. He had done him a favour by getting off the floor, or else he would have had to stoop to reach the other man. As it was, he barely had to raise his arms above the level of his elbows anyway, but at least the target was nearer.

Was it possible for a man to be this dense? He had never known Skeeter before his emigration but from what he had gathered he was competent enough, if not especially well-liked, but surely a man would have to be stupider than an inbred troll to think that Amelia had died because he had not loved her enough?

With that thought came a sharp jolt of clarity. There really had been nothing he could have done. The behaviour of dragons was beyond the understanding of a mere man, even if he were a wizard who had dedicated his entire life to their study. Nobody and nothing could have saved Amelia.

That thought soothed his mind but did not make him regret hitting Skeeter one iota.