For a woman like Rosalind Green, a bit of delicateness was endearing. But if a man was so delicate it inspired pity, that was a problem. Thankfully, Dalton Green was still young, so there was still time to steer him right.
"Thank you, cousin."
Dalton Green thanked him in a soft, sweet voice and began to eat with relish. Seeing this, Mr. Green frowned slightly but held back from scolding the boy. He himself never ate from street stalls—he found the food dirty and crude—and forbade his grandson from doing so. But this was his other grandson's first visit, and he had to give the boy some face. 'I'll talk to Dalton after he leaves,' he decided.
That night, Adrian Hawthorne shared a bed with his grandfather. The bedding was clean and carried the faint scent of soap, though the sheets and duvet cover were full of patches, a clear sign of their age.
