French. Asa knew Selwyn was French (it was one of those things he could try to ignore) but that hadn't stop him from coming to a halt every time the boy spoke with that thick accent. He knew French—passably, at least, but not well enough to try and hold an entire conversation with a French boy, and it had always seemed like a way for pretentious people to act as though they were better than other people. Maybe that's why Selwyn merely speaking irked him more than he could have imagined, especially when he flashed a smile and acted completely unbothered.
"No, you don't have it all," he said, matter-of-factly, "It's right.... there," he explained, tracing a line on his own face from the apple of his cheek down to the left corner of his mouth. "Smeared. You look like you've got dragon's blood on your face."
"No, you don't have it all," he said, matter-of-factly, "It's right.... there," he explained, tracing a line on his own face from the apple of his cheek down to the left corner of his mouth. "Smeared. You look like you've got dragon's blood on your face."
