For a woman who just walked through his door, Maera somehow managed to elbow her way into the kitchen. At least, that was what he could tell, as the meals that came out was not something that was normally served in his villa, or in his father's house in the Capital. For one they didn't eat dishes slathered in this much honey. Then he realized that she served the honeyed dishes to Finne. He couldn't tell if Finne enjoyed it or not from the way he was eating, slowly, methodologically, he same as he's always done, but it was the first time he reached for seconds. There was a proud smile on Maera's face from her place as she stood beside Finne's seat. His wife was still scraping at the last of the honeyed eggs when he finished, but when he placed his utensils to the side, Finne stopped.

"No, you go ahead, I'll wait." said Aleci, looking to Maera for a translation.

„I'm glad you enjoyed the meal."

„It was a delicious apology." They both stared at each other and then Finne said, „Is it normal to drink this much?"

„You're perfectly capable of asking him yourself." When Finne didn't respond, Maera said with a shrug, „Pride isn't as useful as you think it is."

Finne's lips curled, momentarily, and he opened his mouth and closed it. Even in his drunken state Aleci knew something was off. "Tell him I'll be in the guest bedroom if he wants to share a bed tonight. But only if."

As he walked away, not in the direction of his bedroom but towards his own study, he heard the two of them talking again, in the tones of a barely concealed argument.

„Seems like he's making an effort. Why are you so insistent on playing at not understanding him?"

„Why not? I tried before and nothing came of it! Why bother?" Finne snapped back.

He made a horrible decision attempting to climb the stairs, Aleci realized, clutching at the railing. A terrible decision indeed, but now that he had Maera there he might as well attempt to show Finne what he said however long ago that he wanted to do. Reading, wasn't it? Well, Galer, esteemed patron of poets as he was did entertain such notions, Aleci thought, rummaging through the shelves to find what he was looking for. He didn't find that particular poem, but he did stumble upon some ballads. The names looked too blurry to be read in this light but it was one of those scrolls that Galer bothered to have illustrated, because... Aleci scowled at his namesake then decided to discard Alexandrias for Allinos. There the artist had been more liberal with their interpretation, and more lax in skill, but it would serve well for his purpose. He nodded, satisfied, and then took a map as well.

For the second time that day he cursed his life choices, specifically the decision to climb stairs. He had told Maera Finne was perfectly capable of moving to his own rooms. They were dusty, because the last time his mother had visited had been two years ago, but if his presence was so... difficult to bear then he would be understanding. Sometimes he didn't like himself either. But Finne was in the bedroom when he entered it, and gave Aleci a curious look at the things he carried from his place on the bed. He was drawing something on the tablet, and unlike the other nights before he dressed. He gave Aleci a half wary look when he unclasped his toga, but relaxed when he didn't go further.

"I.. uh.. I want to read you a story. Reading," Aleci said, indicating to the scroll.

An uncompleted map of Alyssa and surrounding lands were depicted in the corner, but it was very same he used when he was a child learning geography. Alyssa had expanded her lands quite well since then. So well that, Aleci swallowed, and focused on the drawings instead. The story he wanted to read was simple enough, and it was illustrated as well, small pictures of the heroes and their satyr mentor at the bottom of the page.

"This is a story of—" the heroes of the free cities, he wanted to say, but it was too long of a sentence, "the heroes Thyllausos, Tinosid, Maiandrato and Allinos and their satyr teacher."

He pointed to each illustration, though he had to admit it was hard to tell which hero was which, they all looked alike. "They wanted to train to be soldiers, so they came to ask the satyr to teach them, "and the satyr laughed and showed them to an empty cave. He asked them fill the room with only one item they could carry up to his cave, and laughed when they all failed. But he trained them anyway, because the Goddess Cione came to him and ordered him to."

At least what he was reading now was illustrated. Finne's finger hovered over Cione, pointing a finger at the cowering satyr, and he half wondered if Imruk had the same Goddess as well.

"So he did, he trained Thyllausos in the spear, Tinosid in the sword, and Maiandrato in the bow. But to Allinos he threw up his hands and said, 'even on the orders of Cione, I cannot train one so weak, go home.' Allinos refused to be discouraged, and as he sat watching his friends train, it occurred to him, how to solve the problem the satyr had put forth to them all along. 'Teacher,' he said, respectfully, 'may I fulfill one final task before you dismiss me?'. The satyr frowned but followed him to the cave, where Allinos proceeded to light a torch. Then the satyr laughed, and shook his head, 'well perhaps I was wrong... perhaps you do have something I can train.' And that was how Allinos came to be one of the best strategists of the Empire."

The conclusion left much to be desired, but that was how most of his childhood stories went, 'and he became a great person for the Empire and did great things'. Finne was very interested in the map and the illustrations. Hopefully he understood the story.

"What does your home look like?" said Aleci, indicating Imruk on the map. It wasn't labelled but even he knew where the borders of Alyssa and her surrounding neighbors had been drawn the last time he'd looked at a map.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

There was an unreadable look on Finne's face as he looked at the dot and the land surrounding it. Then he laughed, chuckling softly.

„They really did rely on Imrukian accounts then."

Maybe the map was very wrong? Aleci paused, deciding to change the topic. Picking up his own wax tablet he drew a picture of himself and the late Myia, "Did you have a dog?" Finne gave his drawing a glance then shook his head. His wax tablet, when he handed it to Aleci depicted a young girl with several fluffy cats.

"Your sister? Family?" Aleci said, trying to remember the words they'd exchanged the other day.

It was definitely a sore topic, Finne clenched his lips and Aleci winced even as the words left his mouth. He shook his head, hoping it was a common enough sign for 'you don't have to answer' but the motion made his head worst. Maybe this was as productive as things would go. He could always ask Maera to explain the story again.

"Why don't we sleep?" said Aleci, rolling up scroll and putting it along with his tablet on the side table. He gestured for Finne to do the same. He didn't wait for Finne to lie down next to him, all he cared about at the moment was that his headache would go away.

When he startled awake some time later, Finne wasn't sleeping next to him. The bedroom door was slightly ajar and he could see the candlelight shining through it along with a hushed conversation. He heard enough Imrukian by now to recognize the language when it was spoken, but a part of him was curious to see if he could discern what Finne and Maera was saying. So he carefully moved himself over on the bed for a better look at what they were doing.

Finne and Maera were sitting cross legged next to each other, leaning against the wall. Finne had rolled up the sleeve of his nightshirt and Maera was painting something on the upper half with a paintbrush, an odd looking inkpot to the side of her.

„A fertility charm, really Maera, I think your cooking is enough. "

„I did it for all my expecting children." said the woman, sounding mock-affronted, „They all had children of their own, so I gathered it works." she seemed to critically look at something on Finne's arm, „Did you really get yourself into so many training accidents? You were the first born, I expected they'll be slightly more careful, even before your status was known. "

Finne made to flinch away, then look vaguely ashamed, rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand, „Sometimes I was careless."

„Hm. Is there anything particularly you like to do that is safe? The last time my Brissa was expecting I told her to lay off the horseriding, and play some Latrunculi or something less taxing. On the body, mind you, I doubt I'd still be alive now if I told Brissa to lock herself in a room. The last child is always the most difficult one I swear."

„You didn't raise her in Imruk."

„Given the choice, why would I?"

Finne looked contemplative, „I can't exactly read books in his study if I'm supposed to not understand the tongue." said Finne.

„You could be a very fast learner," Maera sounded amused.

„I am— was a very fast learner. He didn't like it!"

„And you're not under his boot anymore, why do you act like you are?"

„What's the difference between him and him?" Finne gestured towards the bedroom door. There was several hitching breaths, and Finne fell silent. Maera had placed the brush to the side, now holding both of Finne's hands in hers.

„I don't know what kind of man your husband is. But perhaps I can find your son for you. Did you send him with the merchants?"

"Yes. They said they were heading to Alyssa, so I was… more than willing to go with Praefect Galer. I wasn't... I wasn't thinking. I didn't realize I would be living so far away, and I didn't have the time to leave the house when I was there. Where could he be now? I didn't even know Alyssa was this big!"

„And I don't know what you would have done had you found your son, smuggle him back under your clothes?"

Finne was silent for a long while, „It seemed like a good idea."

„You made the right choice. War is a horrible thing for a child to witness." A pause, „What was the merchant selling?"

"Metalwork. He sold me my sword ."

„This is a basis for trust, I see," said Maera, sounding amused, "I can ask around. Do you know what he looks like, this merchant?"

„He has a scar running down the side of his cheek and greasy black hair, and he's braided several silver beads into his beard. He calls himself Maelma the Bold if you talk to him long enough."

„Hm. I suppose... I suppose I can ask your husband to allow me to visit my ailing daughter. I can bring your son back, as my orphaned grandson. How would I go about convince this Maelma the Bold to release Edon into my care?"

„You would do this for me? "

„I would have done it for any mother, and it is well within my ability to do so. "

Finne pulled her into a hug, and she gave a startled squawk of surprise, before hugging him back. He was the first to pull away but gave her a faltering smile.

„So, how would I convince him?" Maera said.

„Tell him Eosvenn has come to take him home."

„And how would I convince Edon to go with me—what does he even look like by the way, in case this Maelma gives me a different boy? "

„When he asks you what the ribbon color is say that it is white and blue. He looks like me. Has my eyes, and there is a half-circle birthmark on his ankle. "

„Looks like you, eh? I hope your husband is as dull as you think… I suppose... we can dye his hair but you are counting on your husband to miss the duck for the swan. Eventually a blind man figures it out. "

„I don't think he would. Why are you laughing?"

„Underestimating another goes both ways. Why do you assume he's incapable?" Even he could tell she was grinning, „You are too young to be such a cynic."

„What if I want to be?"

„Your cynicism is a self-impose exile."

Finne crossed his arms and Maera shrugged.

„You want to live a hermit because you are afraid of being disappointed. Or hurt. Is that true?"

„No."

„I've raised eight children, Finne, I know when someone's lying. You can lie to me, but don't lie to yourself. Now go, before your husband wonders where you've been."

She glanced at the doorway, meeting Aleci's eyes and he ducked away, embarrassed.