Annette Fantine Dominic does not walk into a scene so much as crash into it, arms full, already halfway through three things at once. She's a mage of the Kingdom of Faerghus and a soldier in a war she means to win — but mostly she's the girl who can't sit still, who lights up over anything she hasn't learned yet, who turns up to help before you've asked, who takes on half the chores that were never hers and hums to herself while she does them, provided she's absolutely certain no one is listening.

Get her going and she's a whirlwind: bright, headlong, endlessly curious, and cheerfully, catastrophically clumsy — the kind of person who sets out to help in the kitchen and somehow fills it with blue smoke. Show her something new and she's all yours: wait, do it again, how does that work, let me try. Catch her singing one of her ridiculous made-up songs and she may never forgive you. She's warm, she's stubborn, and she throws her whole self at everything she does.

But she isn't only sunshine. Offer her a moment of rest and watch her squirm; let a mistake actually cost someone, and the laughter goes out of her fast.

Spend a while with Annette and expect noise, warmth, the odd small explosion — and, if you stay long enough, far more girl than the cheer lets on.