Tolomon opened the door and walked in, checking a room full of children before backing away and allowing Indenuel to enter. Adrian and Tomas were there, the older children off to more studies. Rosa was reading to Adrian.

Emilia and Isla squealed, abandoning their dolls and running straight for Indenuel. He said nothing as he dropped to his knees and caught the girls, hugging them tightly. He closed his eyes, trying not to forget what it was like to be so loved by a little child.

“We helped Grandami Sara and the other servants in the kitchens,” Isla said.

“I want to be a cook when I grow up,” Emilia said.

Indenuel still held on to them, even as they wanted to break away. “You will be the best cook that ever existed.”

Emilia beamed.

“We’re going to school!” Isla said. “But we’re not allowed to talk about it.”

“Tonight! A secret school!” Emilia said.

“I know. I’m so proud of you two,” Indenuel said as he finally let them go.

“We’re allowed to write to you, though,” Emilia said.

“We’ll write every day,” Isla said.

Indenuel smiled, the tears finally falling. His lack of confession would take these girls away from him for who knows how long. “You better.”

Isla pulled her sister back toward their dolls. Indenuel stood and saw Matteo sitting at a table, reading. The book covered his face too much for it to be coincidental. Matteo made no move to stand, no move to come to him. The boy dropped the book enough to catch Indenuel’s eye before he lifted it again.

“I think you make Matteo nervous,” Indenuel said toward Tolomon.

Tolomon glanced at Matteo. “And you want to talk to him?”

“Come play with us!” Isla said, appearing out of nowhere and tugging on Tolomon’s sleeve.

“I-” Tolomon started to say before Isla tugged even harder. He, despite having dozens of weapons hidden on his person and could easily brush Isla away, let himself be dragged over to the dolls. Rosa glanced up from the book she was reading Adrian to give the smallest flicker of a smile before she resumed the book.

Indenuel walked over to Matteo, taking a small chair from the table and easing himself into it. “How’s the book?”

Matteo brought the book closer to his face, so close he couldn’t possibly read it. “Good.”

There was silence between them. Emilia and Isla chatted Tolomon’s ear off, talking turns telling him stories, both imaginary and real life. Tolomon was an excellent listener as the girls showed him their drawings.

“What’s the book about?” Indenuel asked after the silence between them stretched too far.

“It’s about a boy who learns to fly,” Matteo said.

“How very odd.”

“It’s a Zimoran folktale, apparently.” Matteo continued to stare at the book far too close and not at Indenuel at all.

“How many times have you read it?” Indenuel asked, noticing how short it was.

“Five.”

Indenuel glanced at everyone else in the nursery, but no one was paying them any attention. “Do you want to do something else?”

“No,” Matteo said.

The silence stretched on. Emilia picked up the toy doll and began to play house, proclaiming Tolomon the father. He said nothing, but gave Indenuel a slightly panicked look. He returned with an encouraging smile.

“I’m your daughter!” Isla said.

“I’m your daughter too!” Emilia said. “And I cooked you this dinner because I’m the best cook that ever existed!” She pretended to place a pretend plate of food in Tolomon’s unsuspecting hands.

“There’s your dinner! Eat up!” Isla said.

Tolomon smiled as he picked up the imaginary spoon and pretended to eat. “It’s delicious.”

Isla slapped the imaginary plate out of Tolomon’s hands. “You didn’t bless it! Now it’s poison!”

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Tolomon shrugged. “Alright. I guess its poison now.”

Adrian slipped off Rosa’s lap to join in the game of house.

Indenuel nudged Matteo. “You want to play with them?”

He shook his head, still covering his face with the book. “Lola used to do that to us all the time.”

Indenuel paused, then looked over at Isla chastising Tolomon for not praying over the meal, ending with ordering him to his room without anything to eat. Indenuel winced, then looked away. “She won’t anymore.”

“No. Now I’m going to be sent off to school.”

“It’s an excellent opportunity for you.”

“And mother is the mother in this game!” Adrian said, dancing on the balls of his feet as he tugged Rosa’s wrist. Tolomon’s face was impossible to read.

“No, no,” Rosa said, standing up and taking a few steps back. “Mother isn’t going to play this game, Adrian.”

He groaned loudly. “Come on, Ami! Play!”

“I-” Rosa began before giving Tolomon a terrified look. “I should go. I’ll send a servant to keep watch.” She got out of the room fast.

Matteo finally lowered the book, even though he still didn’t look at Indenuel. “I never wanted things to change. I wanted you to stay in Mountain Pass.”

Adrian, Tomas, Emilia, and Isla crowded around Tolomon. He knelt down, listening to their pretend plot before they snuck back into the pretend kitchen for food after being sent to bed with no dinner for, apparently, three days.

Indenuel tried to imagine what it would have been like if he was never discovered as the Warrior. What would it have been like to not have Martin at his side, assuring the town he was the Warrior after almost killing them all in the snowstorm. The villagers would have thrown him out. Or killed him.

“I wished I could have stayed with you, or had you come live here with me, but I need to train,” Indenuel said.

“Train to… kill,” Matteo said.

Indenuel looked at the boy who still refused to look at him. “Train to fight in a war.”

He closed the book, placing his finger over the title and tracing the words. “But it’s not right to kill.”

“No. No it’s not. But sometimes you need to do things to protect those you love.”

“NO!” Isla screamed. “It’s the bad woman! She’s caught us! She’s going to tell her husband and he’s going to tear up all our letters from Indenuel!”

He winced. This was far too specific for him to be comfortable with.

“I’ll stop him,” Tolomon said.

“How? He’s too strong!” Emilia said, gasping in a dramatic fashion.

“Not for the likes of me.” He grabbed Emilia’s hand and lifted her up as though she was nothing. She squealed in delight.

“My turn! My turn!” Isla said.

Tolomon responded by holding Isla’s hand and lifting both girls up.

“Me next! Me next!” Adrian said.

“No need for turns. Climb on up there, Adrian, Tomas,” Tolomon said.

Tolomon had all four children riding on his arms, lifting and lowering them over and over as they giggled in delight.

“Why is it that we’ve been told not to kill, except for in war, and somehow that’s going to bring about peace?” Matteo asked.

Indenuel turned, and Matteo was finally looking at him. It seemed as though Matteo was trying to make right what Indenuel had done, but he was struggling. “You’re growing up. Things are far more complicated than when they used to be as a child.”

Matteo blinked back tears, opening the book again to cover his face. “I don’t know. This boy, in this story, he’s got incredible powers that he was afraid to share. But if… if he somehow used it to kill people, I… I don’t think I’d like him as much. In fact, I’d be scared of him.”

Indenuel once again glanced around the room to see everyone else distracted with Tolomon’s display of strength. The children were shrieking so loud not even Tolomon could hear their conversation.

“I don’t think I would either. I’d hate it. Unless, of course, there was a reason. Maybe he was desperate? Or protective?”

“The boy should confess,” Matteo whispered.

“The boy may not need to, as he’s experienced with meditation and can control his powers by himself.”

“But that isn’t right,” Matteo said, still keeping his face covered.

“And if the boy needed to fight, and instead he was thrown in a dungeon? Or flogged for his crimes?” Indenuel asked.

Matteo was very quiet at this, but his eyes grew large.

Indenuel looked down at his gloved hands. “Besides, what if another child had been beaten up in the story?” he hardly moved his lips, keeping an eye on Tolomon. “Beaten him so badly he wouldn’t talk. And it reminded the boy of when the child first came, and it was too much for him to handle. Because the boy felt like it was his fault for abandoning the child in the village?”

Matteo covered his face with the book as he gave a sniff. “Maybe the child was told not to say anything, or else his sisters would have gotten beaten too.”

Indenuel looked at Isla and Emilia, who both grabbed Tolomon around the ankles as he started walking around. Adrian and Tomas laughed as they swung from his arms.

“Then even though I cannot condone the boy’s actions, I feel sympathy for him. Because someone had to get rid of the evil people to keep the child safe, even if he had to resort to sin,” Indenuel said.

“There could have been another way,” Matteo said.

“What other way?” Indenuel asked.

Matteo didn’t say anything. Instead, he lowered the book enough to watch Tolomon for another moment or two. Indenuel scooted the chair closer to Matteo and turned his head ever so slightly to be closer to his ear. “It would have been better if you never knew. I don’t feel sorry for what I did, therefore confession will never work, but I am sorry you must be burdened with this too.”

Matteo nodded, blinking more tears away. “Please let me stay. I don’t want to go to school."

Indenuel ruffled the boy’s blonde locks. “You, Matteo, are going to be an incredible student, and this will give you an opportunity you’ve never even dreamed of. With a proper education, you can do whatever you want with your life.”

Matteo didn’t look comforted. He doubted things would ever be the same between them, and it hurt. But every time he started feeling guilty about murdering Andres and Lola, he thought again of Matteo’s back. He thought of Emilia and Isla sneaking into the kitchen to get food at night after being denied it. He simply couldn’t feel guilty about it.

Sara opened the door. “Dinner is ready!” Tolomon turned his child-infested body toward her. She laughed. “Oh my! What fun! Are you children ready for some dinner?”

The children leapt off Tolomon and ran out the door, talking excitedly. Matteo set his book aside and followed the other children. Indenuel stood up, shaking his legs to get the feeling back in them after sitting on such a small chair for so long. Tolomon patted his shirt.

“Everything alright?” Indenuel asked.

“Tomas sometimes runs off with a dagger. But they’re all here,” he said before straightening his shirt.

“Ready for dinner?” Indenuel asked.

“Starving. My other dinner was poisoned because I forgot to bless it.”

Indenuel tried to smile as they made their way to dinner.