Matteo had a habit of finding really obscure, actually-by-Dakari’s-people legends to do research on. Along the way he usually found out that they had some kind of first island or Sólstaðuric influence, or—sometimes ‘and’—were just a smaller part of some other folktale.

And most people knew this one, sure, but there was…something about it. The story felt incomplete, somehow, and in he…honestly didn’t have anything better to do with his time; most of his friends still had school and Mark didn’t need his help more than two or three times a week.

Which subsequently led to him knowing what he wanted to ask, but not knowing how to phrase it. He could think of a few possible reactions, and there were some he wanted to avoid.

Matteo mulled it over for a good portion of April before deciding it would bother him more if he didn’t say anything than if he did. With that in mind, he just picked a day and came up with some kind of plan on how to say what he needed to.

He had to go to the palace to help Mark, so he tested out the request with his uncle. Mark gave his opinion and, somewhat emboldened by an idea on how Adelinde would react in turn, went home with a kind of determination.

Matteo walked back home and heard the piano almost as soon as he entered, drowning out the heavy rain outside. Adelinde usually went into town during the day—or whenever Rene was working—then came back in the afternoon or evening; considering its been raining all day, she probably hasn’t left the house yet. Tara had a really odd fear of rain—stronger than her fear of people in general—so one or both parents stayed home for her when the weather wanted to taunt her.

Lo and behold, Adelinde sat behind the piano while Tara sat not too far away, seeming particularly determined to focus on whatever she was drawing rather than the weather outside.

“Mom,” Matteo said after stepping inside.

Adelinde looked up but continued playing, offering a bit of a smile and whatever song she was playing changing a bit as well. After a second she did frown, though.

“Did you get caught in the heavier rain, or did you forget your umbrella when you went to the palace?” Adelinde asked, partially curious and partially concerned.

He, admittedly, only half-noticed he got wet. He shrugged.

“I did get caught in a minute of it or so,” Matteo replied, “But I didn’t actually get an umbrella at all so that’s partially on me.”

“Please don’t run around in the rain with just a jacket,” Adelinde said.

“You’re the only one who uses an umbrella in this family, Mom,” Matteo pointed out kindly. “If you want to blame anyone, I’d talk with Rene—I’m not convinced she even took a jacket with her when she left.”

“She’s not exempt either; she has habit in her defense.” She sighed, although he could tell she wasn’t really upset—slightly bothered, if anything. “Give it a bit more consideration if you go out again, is all I ask—and actually take the jacket off for now, at least.”

Matteo nodded, slipping it off without much protest and hanging it up by the door. He went back into the music room and stood by one wall, Adelinde having shifted her position a bit so she was mostly facing him but still playing on the piano so Tara had something other than rain to listen to. Tara herself offered no greeting.

“How was everything with Mark?”

“About the same as usual. Nothing extremely eventful, at least.” He paused for a second, then asked, “Will Rene be back soon?”

“She’s working a bit later for the next few days, so not until after dinner.”

“So we’ll be eating in town somewhere tonight?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Most likely, since neither of you will eat anything I make.”

“I’d eat it, I’d just give an elaborate description comparing it to Rene’s food once I’m done. And as much as I appreciate the effort, it won’t be flattering.”

Adelinde wore a fond smile, glancing over at Tara to see if the girl would notice and give input. His sister stayed relatively silent, apparently deciding that whatever she was drawing wasn’t going well and tearing the page off. She briefly kept it in view—a rough sketch of a ship—before flipping it over so only the blank side was visible.

Matteo took the silence and Adelinde’s following return to the piano as the end of the conversation. He waited a minute, mostly looking out the window and half-debating opening up the curtains so he could watch it fall while he gathered his thoughts, before he spoke up again.

“So, Mom.”

Adelinde looked up from the piano again, once again giving a kind smile. “Yes?”

“Can I go on a week-ish long trip outside of San Asari?”

Her smile didn’t quite fall, but she did put on a slightly wary expression.

“Where were you thinking?” she asked.

“I’m not entirely sure yet.” He knew where he wanted to go, but not the name of the place off hand—nor did he have a map he could point to and show her.

Oddly enough, Tara lowered her pencil. He must’ve caught her attention somehow. Adelinde’s expression just shift to be a bit more cautious.

“I won’t outright stop you,” she said carefully, “But you’re not going alone.”

“I can take some friends; they won’t be missing much in school.”

“You’re not going with just friends—not ones younger than you, at least.”

“They’re younger by like…a year? Two?”

“Three or four years is closer. That makes a large difference.” She paused for a moment, apparently noticing the little frown he donned in the short silence. “Could their parents come along? If not, me or Rene can go instead.”

“No, it’s…a thing I kinda wanna do on my own, if that makes sense?” Matteo replied. He did expect the response, but had hoped that she might be convinced otherwise. He didn’t have any rebuttals planned for if she didn’t budge, though.

Adelinde understood, at least. She even tried to think of some sort of compromise, it looked like, slowing down her playing a bit but shifting it to be a particular song rather than whatever came to mind. Tara looked up and looked at Adelinde.

“I could go with him?”

“If I can’t go with friends, I doubt I could go with you,” Matteo pointed out. It took him a second to think of adding, “No offense.”

“I would actually allow an exception for her,” Adelinde said, looking at both of them for a moment. “She’s less likely to encourage anything reckless than any friends you would bring.”

“She’s scared of rain, Mom. Not the best traveling companion.”

“I’m sitting right here,” Tara murmured in some kind of protest. “I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t willing.”

A somewhat-tense silence fell as the siblings grew unnecessarily annoyed at each other. Adelinde waited a whole minute before sighing, then stopped playing on the piano. Tara immediately made a little squeak now that the rain could be heard, but likely due to Matteo’s accusation she looked like she was trying to hide any of the anxiety it caused.

“How about this,” Adelinde said, looking at Matteo. “You can go with friends and their parents, me or Rene, or just with Tara—you are not going alone or only with friends. You two can discuss it amongst yourselves and I can bring it up with Rene when she gets home, and whether or not you can go on a trip can be decided in the next week or so.”

That wasn’t the worst outcome. Matteo nodded.

“I can work with that. Thank you.”

Adelinde murmured some agreement and resumed playing; likewise, Tara went back to drawing. Logically, one would have the conversation with Tara while they were both there—instead, however, Matteo went back to his room to get a book then came back to sit down.

He took a spot in the only chair back there—Tara still preferred sitting on the floor whenever possible, so she wasn’t using it—and read, Adelinde’s music and the rain its sound was meant to cover acting as background noise while he avoided actually talking with his sister for now. He got the important things said, at least; discussing it with Tara can wait until she seemed likely to actually speak to him.