Frija chewed loudly in Ranvir’s arms. She wasn’t actually chewing on anything, she was just making sure that the milk was settling in fine. Ranvir blinked tired eyes as he sat in his chair waiting for her to get ready for the next round.

The feeder was a little over half empty, which was good for Frija’s usual. Normally, she’d take her first break around the one thirds mark. She’d of course chew loudly until she was ready to be fed further, after which he had a very limited time span before she started crying.

Ranvir looked down at her chubby little cheeks wobbling as she chewed eagerly on the air. He’d been told to look out for that behavior as she might swallow air which could cause gas built up, but that never seemed bother her particularly.

He jiggled her softly with the arm he used to support her, causing her to briefly pause her chewing to smile up at him. He returned her expression and she returned to her chewing.

There once was a time when Ranvir’d been bothered by loud mouth noises, but at this point it didn’t even touch him. It didn’t compare to list of annoying or disgusting things his daughter did on a daily basis.

She let out a long breath through her mostly closed mouth, her lips pushing up from the passing of her breath. Ranvir tensed slightly with the feeder but she went back to chewing just a moment later, so he relaxed back in his seat.

Someone knocked on the door.

Three quick raps of the knuckle. They waited a moment then repeated it before trying the door. Of course, with locks and drop bar in place it didn’t go anywhere.

Ranvir snorted and got up from his chair, sensing the person behind the door stop their attempts to get through in perfect response to his first movement. He only knew of two people with that refined senses. Well two people that would let the drop bar stop them.

“Pashar?” he asked as he approached the door.

“I see you finally got that lock installed,” she replied through the wood.

“Uh-huh,” Ranvir barely got the grunts out through a yawn as he flicked the deadbolt off and dropped the bar into a pocket-space. “It’s… open,” he said with a second yawn.

She pushed the door open revealing her uniformed form as well put together as always. Ranvir was still wearing his pajamas and had disheveled hair form his ‘night’ of sleep. If you could call it a full night. He suspected that Frija was tormenting him as she’d gotten steadily worse about sleeping at night over the last month.

He dropped the bar from his pocket-space to lean against the wall, then yawned again.

Then Frija started screaming her head off, loud enough that Pashar who’d been casually examining his stove startled. With a groan, Ranvir tried to his child to take the feeder, but she was too busy being cross to even look at it. He squeezed a little bit onto her lips and mouth. It took a moment, but she stilled as she chewed tasting the milk and he was able to continue feeding her.

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“How are things going?” Pashar asked straightening from the stove.

Ranvir shrugged careful not to jostle Frija, “Rougher than last trimester, but also better.”

“I can imagine.”

“Though,” Ranvir continued, “I’m making a lot less progress on my projects than I usually am.”

“She’s no small project, though.”

Ranvir looked down at his daughter. His time-demanding, effort-craving, slave-driving daughter. His lovable, beautiful, and happy daughter, “I guess that’s true enough. I can hardly believe it’s already been two months,” he said the words quietly examining his daughter as she finished the last of the milk. He removed the feeder and she started chewing the air again, pausing to smile at him.

He wiped at her chin with the sleeve of his shirt, as she’d gotten milk on her. Four and a half months. She hadn’t even been alive for five months. She’d been real for less time than he’d been a tethered. And he’d missed half of that time. Ranvir’s chest ached with red pain.

“You love her,” Pashar observed.

“Yes,” Ranvir looked up from Frija to examine the administrator, “I do. I was afraid in the beginning that I might not, but…” he looked down at her again tickling her stomach with one finger, “I love her more than anything. I would do anything for her. Anything to keep her safe and happy.”

Pashar cleared her throat, “I have a feeling you’ll be a good dad. That you are a good dad.”

Ranvir smiled looking up at her as genuine warm orange and yellow glow of happiness loosened the tension in his chest, “You think so?”

Pashar nodded, “Which is why I want you to answer me honestly.”

“Okay…”

“What would you do for a free evening, no Frija to take care of? You wouldn’t have to bring her over to Dovar’s place.”

“Who do you want me to kill?” Ranvir replied immediately. “I’ll do it. Doesn’t matter who.”

Pashar laughed taking a step back as it got a hold of her body. She was still smiling when she started talking again, “Kirs has asked for my help in regards to your plans for the evening. She figured you would much prefer to leave Frija back here than bring her with the boys into the city.”

Ranvir cocked his head in confusion as he registered the words she’d said before, “Dovar’s place?” he absentmindedly shifted Frija to lie over his shoulder as she stopped chomping down on the air. Patting her softly on the back, he blinked a few times.

“Into the city? With the boys?” Ranvir asked.

Pashar cocked her head in similar confusion, “She said you were going with the others. To celebrate Dovar’s birthday.”

Ranvir blinked, “I- I don’t think…” Something echoed through the hallway and Ranvir sensed the person—short of stature and fast—sprinting up the stairs. Moments after they reached the hallway Es appeared in the threshold messy hair and sweaty clothed.

“Hey,” he said with a smile stepping in to the room. “Remember that thing? With…” he paused noticing Pashar in the room as well and his face fell. “Please don’t rat me out,” then he turned to Ranvir, “I forgot to tell you about Dovar’s birthday, I was supposed to be the one to invite you in,” he turned back to Pashar falling on to his knees with a hard thunk, “please don’t tell Kirs, please.”

“I don’t want to be involved in your teenage drama,” Pashar said flatly, though, Ranvir thought he spotted humor in the set of her mouth.

“I’d love it very much, Pashar,” Ranvir said. “Thank you for helping Kirs with this. I don’t know that I would’ve felt certain without you there.”

“I don’t think she would’ve either,” Pashar said with a smile.

“So you won’t tell?”

“I won’t if she doesn’t ask me.”

Es slumped back and wiped his forehead where sweat was starting to pebble up, “Thank the Goddess,” then he turned to Ranvir, “And you’re coming to his birthday. It’s just a night on the town, but no academy uniforms.”

For some reason, Ranvir got the impression that Esmund wasn’t asking. Still he nodded.