"I am never out of sorts," says Aramis with perfect certainty. No one as handsome and charming as he could ever be grumpy, after all. If Porthos ever thinks him grumpy it must be because Porthos is himself grumpy.

He kneels on the blankets with the bowl in hand, surveying Porthos in the firelight. "I'm not sure if I'm more enamoured of your eyes or your smile, but fortunately, the caramel sauce can only go on one." Aramis smiles, dragging his finger though the caramel before he touches it to Porthos' lips.