Alek is pathetic when he's ill. Deryn's never met a boy who isn't, but – "I expected more from an archduke."
He glares at her in between sneezes and pitiful moans.
"Aye, just lay about, then," she says, condescending. "Girls never get to – it's washing and mending and off to market, then cooking, cleaning and minding the children all day, even when you're barking miserable."
"I don't need a lecture," he says. Sneezes. "I need soup. And a new handkerchief."
"You've a cold," she says. "Your feet work fine."
And she takes herself to a less contagious part of the house.
