As the gardener's hand brushes the cuff of his tunic, the page halts. His muddy boot slightly depresses one of the tulip bulbs, but the patch is safe for now.

The gentle purple light of his eyes dims, and fades back into the white of sclera. The boy turns his head to the gardener a little more, this time focusing on the Darkling's face.

"Hello there. Why are you touching me?"