Dinner was awkward to say the least. I ordered an extra seat prepared for Eu, though I had to explain that she was a noble in disguise before the servants could overcome their shock.

Grit was running late, doubtless busy caring for Honey. This gave me time to remove my cape and armor. Normally, I would have waited for him to help me as a squire-in-training, but the coming meal already promised enough trouble.

When he arrived, he did a double-take. Seeing a guest at the table dressed as a peasant, he didn’t know how to react. But he’d heard me say before that it was the Duke’s business, so he recovered and took his seat without complaint.

After I gave the blessing, our plates and drinks were served. Looking over the meal, I could feel my hard days on the road draining away. There was quality bread, roast fowl, and a hearty soup with beans. It smelled like home.

My family remained silent, waiting politely for me to take the first bite. That would also signal the start of conversation, so I gestured with one hand for the servants to leave us. I could already guess that there would be issues discussed here that weren’t fit for their ears.

In fact, it was pretty obvious that this meal was going to serve double-duty as an interrogation. I didn’t need to be a wind-reader to see that clearly. In other words, I had to keep my mouth empty, ready to respond. As such, I tore off a tiny piece of bread and brought it to my mouth as the symbolic beginning of my trial.

“Husband. Please explain your actions and our guest. Also, if you would answer our daughters’ questions, that would assuage their curiosity.”

“Yes. First off, since Grit was not there for her introduction, this is Eu. She will be our guest for the night.”

Grit choked on his drink as he was shocked once again. The peasant boy that he'd expected turned out to be a girl.

“Yes. She is wearing pants, but there is a good reason for that…”

I had to carefully weave a path between the pitfalls ahead of me. I knew my wife could read me like a book. She’d sense the truth and lies within each statement. However, I also knew she was a practical woman. Her greatest concern was not the pants. In other words, I was free to fabricate whatever story would please my children.

“Yes. You see, Eu is in disguise. You can see from her hair color that she’s a foreign noble from the lands beyond the northern Plainsmen. She’s here to see the Duke in secret. Quite tricky, wouldn’t you say? None of you even suspected?”

All of my children nodded in agreement. Progress even gave a consoling smile to Eu. Unfortunately, Eu ruined the moment with her own revelation. “Pants are smart!”

I swooped in to regain control, “Yes! Pants are smart… for her disguise!”

Constance narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but my children continued nodding their heads. In fact, now I could see Progress glowing with sympathy.

“Now then, as for her name. The word ‘Ewe’ is indeed the same as a mama sheep. But that nickname is actually a shortening of her full noble title. Since it all comes from a foreign language, it wouldn’t make sense to us anyway.”

“Can we give her a real name?” asked Swift, innocence in her eyes.

“Ah… you can try. But do NOT bother her about her name. She’s … very picky about it.” I could only hope my emphasis was enough to avoid an imminent profanity-bomb.

“Eu… eu… eulogy!” Swift spouted out her first idea and then blanched when she realized the dire meaning of her suggestion.

“Yes, dear! Very good. But let’s discuss it with Eu later.”

Swift grinned back at me, pleased with the praise. Unfortunately, Progress missed the hint and started adding her own suggestions, “Unity? Euphoria? Euphony?”

“Later! Later!” I could see Eu’s eyes flicking back and forth. The last suggestions sounded even closer to the beginning syllables of her actual name.

Finding a moment to interject, Grit took control, “Father. You said she’s of foreign nobility. But what rank? Should she kneel to us or should we kneel to her?”

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“Ahh… hmm.” That was a good question, but it had completely blindsided me. “Let’s leave that to the Duke. I must admit, I don’t know the answer myself.”

“I see.” He looked back at Eu and examined her for clues. It didn’t help that she was picking at her soup, inspecting each bean before rejecting them one after another. On the other hand, her posture this time was perfect. She was seated solidly with a straight back and her left hand hidden under the table.

“What country is she from?” asked Swift.

“That’s a secret.” I replied. If I’d said she was living with peasants in a hamlet in the western marshes, that would have raised all sorts of terrible questions.

Suddenly, I realized I could use this situation as a lesson to inspire my own children. “I mentioned she was a noble, right? Though she’s still learning our language, in her own tongue, she already knows how to read AND write!”

This was met with gasps of surprise. Grit, of course, could read. But, he was a full hand Eu's senior. Due to the difference in educational emphasis for girls, Progress’s reading was spotty at best and Swift had just started learning her letters. The ability to write was a step above and beyond all of them.

Progress sniffed loudly, embarrassed at being so clearly outclassed, “Can she recite holy scripture?”

“Of course!” At least I certainly hoped so! No matter how far she came from, that only seemed reasonable. Oh wait, I’d said she came from beyond the Plainsmen? Hmm…

“How many scriptures can she do at once?” insisted Progress.

“I wouldn’t know how to ask. She only learned the word for ‘grass’ a few days ago.”

“Hmm…” Progress looked down her nose at Eu.

Fortunately, Eu seemed to be oblivious to the conversation as she was busily eating. At the moment, she was working on the roasted bird. She had rudely picked it up to eat with her fingers. It didn’t present the best picture.

Constance looked away, embarrassed at the sight. “Her manners need some … improvement. Is there anything else we should avoid?”

“Uhh… don’t play dice against her. She’s got some crazy luck.”

“Dice? Did you say DICE!? Did you teach a child to gamble?” Constance’s voice hardened with anger.

“No! Of course not! She already knew how!”

The children all giggled together. They could see I’d blundered.

Luckily, Grit rescued me with a more interesting topic. “Will she be wearing those pants to meet with the Duke? We surely have some dresses that we could lend her.”

Eu’s eyes flicked up. “No dress! Dress is bad! Pants!”

“The Duke… instructed me to keep up her disguise.”

That was a clear lie, and I could feel my wife’s eyes on me. “Oh? Then we just need to disguise her differently! Perhaps some bows in her hair? Or a bonnet? After all, that black hair gives her away more than a dress ever would.”

Eu looked back and forth, seeming to catch the intended meaning if not the words. Finally, she looked at me with a glare. “Dress is bad! Name is Eu? NAME IS EU?”

High heavens! The girl was threatening me right in front of my family!

This situation was one step away from disaster! Thinking quickly, I came up with an excuse. “Eu’s been told by her parents to wear pants for her disguise. Would we have her disobey her father?”

That did the trick. Obviously, my wife could tell I was lying, but my children all fell into place. They knew the holy scriptures from a young age. Disobeying your parents was one of the largest prohibitions. Encouraging someone else to do so would make you an accomplice - or worse, a servant of temptation.

Of course, lying was an equal or even worse anathema, and I was doing it right in front of them. It gave me pause to see their pure, innocent hearts on display while I wallowed in guilt. But, I’d done it for their own protection! My behavior was justified!

Luckily, my thoughts were interrupted when Grit asked a question. “We know Eu’s name, but does she know ours?"

To answer that, I looked at Eu. After all, I knew how quick she was to learn just by hearing. In response, she gave me a smile.

“Father is Deft.” She pointed at me. “Son is Grit. Daughter is Progress. Daughter is Swift. Mother is My-Wife.”

All three of my children plus Constance giggled at Eu’s mistake.

Naturally, I’d never called my wife by her name. It wasn’t customary to do so, especially not in front of our children. In fact, it was a little rude, but this was a special case. “Her name is Constance. Constance is MY wife, not YOUR wife.”

Eu corrected herself. “Mother is Constance, Constance is my wife… err your wife.”

“Good.” As expected, she figured out how to turn the possessive pronoun around.

After that, the conversation turned to questions about my trip. The girls wanted to know what I’d seen, what I’d eaten, and any rumors or excitement from afar. Grit was more interested in the logistics of where I’d stayed, what dangers had appeared, and how I’d kept myself safe.

Finally, I turned to Constance. I could see in her eyes that she still had questions, but she sent me a false smile, “I am glad you are home. Surely you are tired with all of these questions. Eat now. Let us discuss more later.”

In other words, she didn’t want to undermine my authority in front of the children. Unfortunately, that meant the real interrogations and possible execution were delayed for later.