"Are you… jealous?"
Catrine gasped in surprise at his words.
"Jealous?" she repeated, turning to him in confusion. "What do you mean, Brother? What… is jealousy?"
She was only six years old, and naturally, she didn't understand complicated things like human emotions.
Merlin didn't answer immediately. He sat down where Catrine had been, then gently pulled her onto his lap.
Her face flushed as red as an apple, and she tried to wriggle free from time to time. It wasn't that she disliked sitting on his lap—on the contrary, she was quite happy.
But she remembered that she was angry with her brother, and so she tried to maintain her composure.
Merlin, however, wasn't about to let her escape. With his left arm around her waist, he held her in place while smoothing her slightly tousled silver hair.
