Beth could not withstand the biting cold in the servant's small dining room. The coldness seeped through the stone walls and glass panes. There was no fireplace granted there, only flickering candles against the persistent winter.
Seeking warmth, Beth retreated to the main kitchen. She sat near the heart's inviting heat. A steaming bowl of soup cradled in her hands warmed her chilled fingers, the spoon clutched in her other as she drew the broth and enjoyed her breakfast.
A sharp pop from the heart startled Beth. A glowing ember soon shot out and landed with a sizzle on the back of her exposed hand.
"Ow, ow!" she hissed, flinging her hand that held a spoon, trying to remove the sizzling coal.
Across the room, Miss Celia, who was occupied with putting away Mikael's breakfast, whipped her head around when she heard the commotion.
She said in a gentle voice, "Step back a bit, Beth. You will burn yourself if you are sitting that close to the fire."
