Aleci knew his father was the naturally skeptical type, so when he made his way down to greet the guests and bid them goodbye, he wasn't surprised that his father motioned him towards a corner away from the others. To his surprise, the first words that came out was a warm, "Congratulations on your marriage."

"Thank you," he said, hoping his face didn't betray the raging headache he had.

"Usually I'd have the servants move Finne to his quarters, but..." Galer shrugged, waving away what he was trying to say. "In any case, it would be better for you two to get to know each other and—" a wide smile, "hasten the arrival of my grandchild."

Aleci nodded, hoping his father would leave quickly with the others. He was spared from the unpleasantries when his father's attention was caught by Finne, now divested of the wedding attire. He was wearing a pale blue stola, the dress of a married woman, though his hair was not elaborated braided or adorned as Aleci's mother. It wasn't as if he could braid it, his hair was too short, thought Aleci.

«Good morning, my dear. I hope your wedding night went well,» said his father.

Finne gave Galer another one of his, Aleci now realized, polite smiles, «It was lovely, 'Praefect Galer', I liked the view from the window.»

«I have been talking to Cimul, and you know his 'socra', his wife's mother, she is Imrukian and they don't live too far from us. Would you like him to send for her?»

Any mention of Galer's friends was a bad sign but he had no idea why a socra was needed. What, did Galer bring along Finne's mother as well? There was a long slow blink at this, before Finne ducked his head, «I would be very grateful, Praefect Galer.»

«That settles it,» said his father, «Keep your end of the promise and I'll be sure to hold up my end of the bargain.»

They were standing very close to each other, and Aleci knew enough of Galer to recognize the stance and the friendly hand on Finne's shoulder as more than just a comradely gesture. It was intimidation, and he didn't care for it, particularly when his father was in his Praefect regalia and Finne was in the delicately draped and flimsy stola.

«Of course, 'Praefect Galer', you are very gracious,» Finne smiled, and it was definitely strained, Aleci had given the same smiles to Galer and his fellow Praefects before.

There was only so much of this nauseating display Aleci could stand, and he was relieved when the conversation ended, and his father turned to him, translating, "I told Finne that I would send for an Imrukian, so you should expect her arrival. Finne'll pick up our tongue quickly enough with her help," a pause, "or vice versa, though I expect you are capable." He walked over to Aleci and leaned in, gripping Aleci's shoulder. "Do not forget I can also do calculations. I will know if things do not," the hold he had on Aleci's tightened painfully, "add up." Then his father smiled again, because he was a conniving bastard and stepped back towards Finne, who hesitated, before holding out his hand. Pressing a kiss to it, his father smiled, «May 'Mytea' watch over your new marriage.»

Aleci barely had the chance to fume over the mention of Mytea before his father was gone with the rest of the wedding guests, leaving Aleci and Finne standing awkwardly in the courtyard. They weren't precisely alone, the summer villa had smaller houses around it, and the people lived there did Galer a service by tending to the villa as well. They also harvested the olives and grapes when harvest time came. These lodgers usually came and went, unlike the other Praefects and Magisters, Galer liked to have traveling bands of musicians—troupers—around the villa. He stared at the courtyard, then up to his father's study where he could seclude himself in numbers and wine. The troupers were not stewards, the numbers wouldn't have been done since he last visited. He made a move to walk to the study, and Finne followed him, so quietly Aleci didn't notice until he came to the door and opened it.

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Aleci scowled, spinning around on his heels, "No," he hissed, "Don't follow me." He pointed towards the bedroom. "Go there." When there was no response, he grabbed Finne's hand to physically lead him to the bedroom and swinging the door open with more force than necessary. "Stay." he said, giving Finne a half-shove into the room not caring if he was understood, before shutting the door.

He pushed the matter away when he stalked into the study. What was there to talk about with his new wife anyway? Besides there was matters to attend to, the harvesting needed to be scheduled, repairs needed to be made to parts of the villa. Then there was the wine he'd so helpfully hidden for himself behind a bookcase and wasn't that a boon to his dry throat?

It was dark when he finally looked up from the desk, sighing deeply at the thought of a nearly silent dinner with his wife. His father had not told him of the full conversation he had with Finne, but he had made it clear to Aleci that Aleci was on a time line. Galer's time, Aleci snorted, how would his father go about determining when Finne had a child? Precisely nine months, counting exactly from when they were married? Even with his limited knowledge of anatomy he knew that was a hard task.

Muffled sounds of laughter could be heard from the bedroom door when he approached it. Usually any laughter from the house would come from his younger sister, and he half expected it was Laria as he pushed the oak doors open. The woman from that morning jumped from her place looking over Finne's shoulder as he sat on the bed, drawing something on a wax tablet that she'd undoubtedly gotten for him.

"Sorry, Dominus Aleci, I didn't expect—" she babbled, doing the curtsy that they women troupers do after a show. He waved her apologies away.

"What is this?" said Aleci, snatching the tablet away, half expecting some ugly caricature of himself or his father. He would have drawn that, if he was in Finne's place.

It wasn't caricatures, instead, it seemed to be a a series of drawings. It was a boat sailing upon the sea, and two figures standing at the helm. Then there was someone running a race, holding what looked like a torch aloft. The last picture was of a man and his famiy and a roaring fireplace behind them. It had been awhile since he'd seen the sea, Aleci thought. He was reminded briefly of his childhood summers spent in his mother's city, and how his uncle had once tried to take Aleci sailing only to suffer the consequences of a sea sick child.

Aleci blinked, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth despite himself. "It's good," he said to Finne, who gave him a blank look.

"Dominus Aleci likes it," the trouper said, brightly.

"He doesn't understand you girl," said Aleci, and she frowned, before bowing her head. But she didn't leave, instead taking her place by the door. Did his father asked her to be Finne's servant, how hypocritical of the man, Galer never liked being attended to, he said it was unwanted decadence.

He was left holding the tablet awkwardly. From his seat at the bed, Finne raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry," said Aleci, hoping that it was one of the words Finne understood.

Finne's mouth twitched, as if to say something, then he motioned for Aleci to give him back the tablet.

"Would you like to have dinner?" said Aleci, and made a motion to eat.

This was understood, Finne got up from the bed, putting the tablet on the side table before opening the door and walking away, leaving Aleci staring after him.

"Did he talk to you?" demanded Aleci, turning to the woman. "He hasn't spoken more than five words to me."

She gave him a puzzled look, "I don't understand what you mean, Dominus Aleci. He asked for a tablet. Should I have not given him one?"

The poor girl was about as bright as coal, thought Aleci. "No, no, just tell me next time." he glanced at the fading wax on the tablet, "You're excused."

After some consideration, he took the tablet with him to dinner.

Finne was waiting for him, the food sitting untouched on the table. Aleci swallowed an incredulous laugh. Must he now give commands for his wife to eat? He sat down, putting the tablet out in front of them, Finne's pictures freshly scratched out with his drawings on them. The brunet gave him and then the tablet a look of polite interest. He quickly realized that it was particularly hard to convey a conversation only through his limited drawing skills. Finne's drawings had told a simple story. Aleci's clumsy attempts would only resulted in more blank looks.

"This is my family," said Aleci, stressing the word, and pointing towards the admittedly crude depictions of his father, mother and sister.

Finne glanced at the tablet, bit his lips, and said, sounding very confused, "Family?"

Aleci jerked the tablet away, scrawling a figure of himself alongside the others, "See? This is me-" he indicated towards himself, "Aleci, and this is my family."

The brunet stared at the tablet, then back up at him. "Family." he repeated.

Aleci gave a sigh of relief, reaching over to scrape his picture away from the tablet's wax surface. "Your family?" he said, handing it to Finne and making a motion for him to draw.

The tablet was taken away from him, and Finne began to draw on its surface in practiced movements. He hesitated before giving it back to Aleci. There was an old man, sitting on a carved chair, and a second figure standing by his side—Finne presumably—though he had drawn himself with longer. Aleci swallowed.

At their feet were seven graves.