The problem with wanting to sleep is that his wants were never really taken into account. He stared at his empty breakfast platter, and the full wine cup and sighed deeply. Drinking wine in the morning didn't help either, but it certainly washed down the guilt that gnawed at him. Aulius knew where Kaeso was, he had tried to tell Aleci before but each time Aleci had found a convenient cup of wine to distract both of them. He picked up the bread on the plate, eyed the cheese, garum and olives that came with it and decided it was better dipped in wine. This earned him a rather askance look from Maera but she seemed more preoccupied with Finne to comment on the matter. Good, she wasn't his mother.

„Did you like the poem?"

„Hm."

„Something the matter?"

„You are very insistent."

Finne pushed the bread around in his plate, glanced at where Aleci was and then to Maera, „I thought... I thought he was..." he reached for the wine and poured himself a cup, „I thought he was Ethach."

„Right."

„Right? Right?" Finne pushed himself away from the table, the chair falling to the floor with a clatter that truly did a number to Aleci's head. „He didn't take what I didn't give to him!"

„You did the best as you could in your circumstances. It is a shock I can imagine—"

They were definitely talking about last night, Aleci thought, watching the interaction from the corner of his eye.

„He deserved to die."

„Imruk is a shadow of what it once was." There was a brittle smile on Maera's face. „You don't need to justify yourself or your thoughts to me."

He was watching something he shouldn't, and if his mother had taught him anything, then he knew very well he should excuse himself, no matter how awkward it would be. So he coughed, steadied himself on the table and attempted to stagger away. He was half-way out of the courtyard before Maera spoke up.

"May I inquire if you are done with your work, Master Aleci?" she said loudly and he clutched at his head. She sighed, and walked towards him, "The weather seems pleasant today and Corcius's markets are open, why not go for a ride? You two seemed inclined to do so, Finne told me."

„In that state? He'll fall off!" Finne exclaimed.

She raised an eyebrow, hands on her hips, „Then catch him. Flutter your eyes and tell him you want a replacement for that knife you used to carry around. Whatever makes you feel safer. I will ask around for the Maelma in Corcius."

That word Maelma, it was from last night, and he half wondered if Maera wanted to buy a particular ingredient there. It was a horrible time for such a good suggestion but Corcius was a reasonable distance away.

"I can saddle the horses," he offered, to Finne he extended a hand, "Come with me, Finne, please?"

Finne shot Maera an irritated look before he left with Aleci. It wasn't directed at him so he let the whole matter be. There was a wind and clouds, which was truly a blessing for his eyes. He saddled three horses for them, and waited for Maera who came with a very well worn basket.

Corcius's marketplace was small, but bustling. Their horses were left with a stableboy who perked up at the copper coin Maera offered him for the task. Maera bid them farewell at the entrance, telling them to meet her at the stables when they were done. It had been awhile since he'd visited Corcius, Aleci thought wistfully. The last time it was with his sister who had swiped three of his fried mushrooms while he hadn't been paying attention. The mushroom merchant was nowhere to be seen though. Instead there were merchants selling dried meats and fishes, assortment of sweet smelling herbs, household wares among many other things. They didn't all speak the same tongues there, Aleci could pick out the odd regional dialects and foreign tongues.

"Aleci?" said Finne, reaching forward to hold his hand.

There was that same excitement in his eyes, the look he'd given Aleci before he'd gone and thrown several spears into the targets.

"Please don't throw any spears—" Aleci began, and caught himself. Finne wouldn't have understood, but he smiled nonetheless at his own joke. Finne's hand was very warm in his.

The merchant smiled brightly upon seeing them, his eyes roaming over the two of them, and probably guessing their purses to full.

"One moment," he said ducking down, and coming back up with a wooden box. He opened it with a flourish, "Something shiny for your wife?" he said brightly.

Finne ignored the box, and the merchant's slightly faded smile as he glanced away, moving to look at the plainer looking brooches. He stared at them for a while, before his eyes lit up, "This one," he said to the merchant.

"Ah," the merchant looked, again, quite disappointed, "Are you sure, Domina? That one… the craftsmanship is not too good, and you see it is quite clunky and very awkward. Barbarian craftsmen, you know, they don't make the best..."

"Barbarian craftsman?" said Aleci, interested.

It was rectangular shaped, and looked oddly thicker than a normal brooch would be, about two fingers' width. Poor craftsman ship, the merchant had said, and he agreed, the pin itself looked fragile. He could understand why the merchant thought it was poorly made, certainly no fashionable noblewoman in Alyssa would be caught wearing such, he doubted it would properly pin back any fabric for long. It must have been the swirling Imrukian script was what caught Finne's attention.

"We'll take that one." said Aleci.

"Of course, of course." said the merchant, his glance fell to the box, "But surely, Dominus, you would like something more? A surprise?" he lowered his voice, and glancing from the corner of his eye at Finne who had wandered away, "Your wife isn't looking. He would be pleased with this, I am sure."

"Fine," said Aleci. Finne in conversation with another merchant, one selling dried fruits. How odd, he thought, but then again, all one really needed was to point and smile. "Show me. And quickly."

"Of course," said the merchant, quickly shutting the box only to open another one, this one filled with carved wooden figures. "Is your wife Imrukian? He looks to be! I think he would like one of these, I bought them from M—"

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Finne would like one of the figures, Aleci thinks wryly, looking at little wooden cat rolling a ball. The woodcarver had captured the same thick, fluffy coat in wood as Finne's drawing of the little girl with her cats. "That one," he said, interrupting the merchant.

"He likes cats?" guessed the merchant, with the cheer of one finding several extra coins in his pocket, "You know the Imrukians have very big cats. I heard their skins make great scarves," he paused, looking slyly at Aleci, "Would your wife like one of them? I have a friend who can procure such animals, a breeding pair, even."

"I will think about it," said Aleci, shuddering at the thought of more cats, even bigger than the black tom roaming his property.

He paid the merchant, tucking the wooden carving into his coin purse, before walking over to the fruit stand. The merchant woman smiled when she saw him, switching an accented Alyssian tongue. "Would you like to buy my wares, good sir?"

"Here's your brooch," said Aleci, handing it to Finne, who took it with barely hidden glee. "Do you have pomegranates?" said Aleci, remembering their earlier conversation.

He paid for that as well, and the two of them made their way back to the village entrance, but not before he stopped to buy two skewers of meat. Finne wrinkled his nose at the oil dripping from them, and Aleci rolled his eyes.

"You had pomegranates. Leave me be," he said, his mouthful of the spiced meat.

Finne took a tentative bite and shook his head, holding it to the side while Aleci finished his. Maera was waiting for them, the horses' lead in hand. Seeing her Finne rushed forward.

„Maelma?" said Finne, upon seeing her.

„It did sound promising. I will ask Brissa to confirm."

Finne grinned widely, he made to embrace her and Maera waved him away, „Give your husband that greasy stick before you get it all over me." she chastised. To Aleci she said, brightly, "Did you have a good outing, Dominus?"

„Yes." said Aleci.

Their ride back was done in a companionable sort of silence, though Finne was noticeably more cheerful. He didn't pin the brooch on himself, like Aleci had inspected, he held it in the palm of his hand, spinning it around and around. Well, as long as he liked it, Aleci thought. Then he cursed under his breath, because he was acting like an apologetic Galer. He had done nothing wrong!

To his great despair, the cloud cover were gone on the way back and he was only too happy to make his retreat as soon as the horses were stabled.

"Aleci," Finne grabbed none too gently at his arm, mumbled a hasty apology and then, looking anywhere except Aleci's face, said in a rush, "I want to— to bathhouse."

Aleci stared at him, then glanced at Maera who seemed to make herself busy all of a sudden. "Sure. Go," said Aleci shrugging.

"No, Aleci." said Finne, shaking his head, "Come… with me. Please."

He felt a bubbling sort of happiness. "I will come. But… " he hesitated, looking at Maera, "You did talk this morning about what happened... last night?"

Before Maera could answer, Finne scoffed, reaching for Aleci's hand.

"Come," he repeated, insistently.

Aleci wasn't sure what it was about the bathhouses that put Finne at ease, but he wasn't one to object. He was eager, kissing Aleci with an enthusiasm that was in contrast to the stiffness last night. He sank down into Aleci's cock, his gasps of pleasure echoing off the walls of the bathhouse. Finne, as usual, pulled away first, and they took their time enjoying the hot water of the bathhouse. Aleci presented him with the little cat carving as they made to toss their clothes into the basket, and instead of the pleased smile he expected, Finne blinked, owl-like, then laughed uproariously.

„Have they ever seen a cat?" he exclaimed, before smiling consolingly at Aleci's disappointed confusion, "I like the cat," he said.

He offered to towel off Aleci, the calluses on his hands apparent when he dressed him.

"Thank you," said Aleci, trying, and failing, to help Finne with his own dress.

Finne shrugged him off, but gave him a somewhat apologetic look. He didn't use the new pin, Aleci noticed, instead tucking it away in the folds of his stola. Perhaps he liked whatever was written on there, Aleci thought. He wouldn't fault his wife if he wanted something that reminded him of home.

They fell into an easy routine. Aleci would go work in his study, Finne to the train with the household guards. He knew because he could see Finne walking to the training grounds from his study. Sometimes he would wander over and watch Finne train. His father's guards seemed to take to Finne well enough, even if they kept a polite distance. Finne didn't spar or wrestle with them, and he doubted that any of the guards would offer to, even the rule-breaking Mercus. He wasn't certain if any of the guards disapproved of his wife's presence among them, certainly not Oppius. The old man had spent too many years with his father, and probably believed, through listening to his father's many monologues, theorizing and examples, that a child would inherit whatever talents its parents had. In this particular case, Aleci suspects the man, like his father, would prefer the child took after Finne. It was an idiotic theory, his father in all his magnificence didn't apply it to his own progeny.

Maybe he thought Aleci was a fluke, which was why Galer wanted grandchildren to prove his theory wrong. Galer would have to wait then, Finne wasn't pregnant, that much he gathered from the furious hissed conversations Maera had with Finne and her numerous attempts to ply him with food.

„You don't have to—" he said to Finne once one night, struggling to find the words.

Finne had seemingly acquire an endless number of words for how to throw things, names for various weapons, curses and other eloquent ways to express himself from the guards along with hand gestures to match. None of the guards were women, so none of the words were about pregnancy. And thanks to Maera's shared tongue with Finne, he didn't need to.

Finne sighed impatiently, motioning for Aleci to read again. The simple poems and stories that Aleci offered him from the study was read rapidly and ravenously, though he stopped reading every so often to motion at the words. At this rate he would have finished all of Aleci's picture books. So he decided he might as well let Finne look over whatever was in the study. If he couldn't read it then he could very well ask Aleci what it was, there were plenty of war stories and poems there, the Empire produced them like clockwork.

In any case, It was nice to have company. Finne would sit in the corner, reading whatever book has taken his fancy that day. Maera would come in from time to time with that lavender tea and sweet cakes. No messages came from the Alyssa, except letters from his mother inquiring about the state of his marriage. None came from Aulius, which was a disappointment, if Galer was busy then Aulius was no doubt also preoccupied. So it came as a shock when he saw his father's handwriting on the letter Maera handed to him.

The surprised faded to irritation because the contents of the letter was some sort of grand trickery he wasn't privy to. Galer simply said that Aleci was to host some Praefect and Magister who were both headed to Imruk. He recognized none of the names, which either spoke to their sudden promotion or incompetency. But Cimul was with them though, he recognized that particular name. The last line though, that was rather ominous.

Keep Finne away from them.

He blinked at the last sentence, and looked down at the Imrukian script. It could be possible that Galer had an even worst command on written Imrukian than he did. So he handed the letter to Finne, and waited for his wife's response. Finne stared at the letter for a long while, mouth in a thin line.

"What does it say?" said Aleci.

Finne ignored him, muttering something under his breath. Then he met Aleci's eyes and said, "Praefect Galer does not like the men."

"Does not like," said Aleci, irritated at how simple Finne made it sound. "Does not like means anything from a lecher to a—" the latter described him so he stopped himself. But his father would not have written a warning to Finne Finne if it was merely drunkards he was commanding Aleci to host. Finne waited, looking bemused so he sighed deeply and tried to simplify his thoguhts, "My father is hypocrisy itself, tells me not to do this, he does this. Tells me to do this, and he does not to this."

"Hypocrisy," agreed Finne nodding solemnly.

"If he touches you stab him," said Aleci, deciding that his patience for Galer's charade was growing thin.

"Are you.. Angry?" there was a hesitancy in the last words and Aleci shook his head.

"It is my house, he can't—" he paused, trying to find the words. "He can very well entertain them himself!" For some reason that only made Finne smile all the more wider.

That night Finne had another conversation with Maera, casting occasional looks at Aleci.

„Why is my husband's father sending such incompetents to Imruk?"

„Perhaps they are incompetent compared to him," said Maera, mildly.

„No, they are truly... I stabbed one of them, you know—"

Maera's cup thudded on the table, „What?"

„He didn't keep his hands to himself, how else do you tell them off otherwise!"

The look on Maera's face was very funny, Aleci mused, and decided to put down his own cup.

„You said you didn't like drawing attention to yourself!" she exclaimed. „By "Mytea", it's like you want to court death! Don't do so in my absence, you hear?"

That explained everything, Aleci decided, relieved. Maera was one of those folks, no wonder Galer and Praefect Cimul tolerated her idiosyncrasies.

"Are you leaving?" Finne frowns, "You sound like you're planning to leave. "

„Not that I want to, now that you've told me, but you said you wanted your son, did you not?"

„Really? You heard?" Finne's exclamation was very loud and Aleci made to cover his ears.

„Yes."

His ears still ringing, he massaged his temples and waited patiently until the conversation ended.

"Domnus Aleci," said Maera, finally addressing him, "I am sorry to ask, but would it be possible for you to let me visit my daughter in the Capital? She has taken ill."

"Oh," said Aleci. That explained Finne's exclamation of dismay, "Well, of course. Finne?" he looked to Finne, who shook his head, "I pray she gets better."

There, a pleasantry his mother would approve of. This earned him though a curious exchange between Finne and Maera.

„Why do you worry? He's not the brightest."

„You can't judge a man's intellect after he's had seven cups of wine."