It was very quiet that night. Ediann, usually very excitable, had picked up on Edon and Finne's subdued moods.

"We'll leave tomorrow," Aleci announced, and Finne nodded.

The children had gone to bed, Edon quietly motioning for Ediann to join him. For the first time that night Finne didn't hold Ethain, he sat on the bed next to the basket-cradle, his head in his hands.

"He said he wanted another child," Finne whispered miserably. "He said… what did he write in that letter?"

"He implied the children aren't his," Aleci said, deciding it was best to censor the letter's contents. Perhaps it was a boon that Ethach didn't know about Ediann's deafness and Ethain's clubbed feet, no doubt the letter's contents would have been more colorful.

"Right..." Finne shook his head. "Then why would I have gone through all that suffering, to— He—" He took in a shaky breath, "I named them after him! After the things we did together! His promises—" Finne took a breath, "I had a ceremony hosted and-" he clenched his hands, "it was humiliating, prostrating and bowing before him. I should have ran away." He stared at Ethain's sleeping face. "I should have—"

Tread carefully now, Maera's voice whispered, the distant memory coming back to him. Maera had always been welcoming whenever Aleci came to ask her about any questions he'd wanted, but her domus was a busy and bustling place and occasionally she'd been called away. One such occasion she was called to tend to a young woman in hysterics, as Maera had put it. When Aleci had inquired as to why, the older woman had simply shook her head, adjusting her graying red hair back from where the strands had fallen from its tight braid. 'It's taboo to admit it', Maera had said, 'but you have seen enough unwanted infants being abandoned. A father can walk away from his children, and forget about them entirely. A mother can as well, but there is so much more judgement'. 'Is this the case with the woman?' Aleci had asked. 'One can never tell unless one speaks to them,' Maera had said, 'this one didn't know of her pregnancy until it was too late for any of us to help her and in such cases it is difficult to form a bond. You don't believe in spirits, but it is my belief that she thinks so strongly of what others think of her that she's attracted the attention of the wrong sorts.'

Aleci had inquired what the solution was and Maera shrugged. 'I can't say, it depends on the situation. I would like the mother and child to stay together, but it would seem in this case that this one doesn't want the child, so I will find a wet nurse for it... I would say... you have to listen.' Then she'd let out one of her rare laughs, 'It is quite good that I am blessed with the patience to listen.'

The patience to listen, Aleci thought.

"You can tell me," he said, nodding encouragingly.

"I would have felt better if he'd wanted the children back," Finne said in a rush. "He pressed and pressed me to have them. And now he doesn't want them so why did I even—" he let out a sob and shook his head.

"Have them?" Aleci suggested and Finne's eyes widened.

He'd met the young woman himself, the next time he went to see Maera. The older woman wasn't there, and when he'd inquired of one of her students rushing pass him they'd simply shrugged their shoulders. That left Aleci standing awkwardly, shifting from one foot to another as he waited for Maera. It was rude to stare, he knew, and tried to keep his eyes from straying to the young woman. She wasn't in a screaming fit as she had been before, and was rocking the child, humming to it under her breath. After some time in silence, she'd met his eyes and asked, in a very far off voice, what he thought she should name the baby. 'Whatever you like,' Aleci had said, uncomfortable at the glassy look in her gray-green eyes. 'Are you a kind man?' she'd demanded, and at his mumbled answer that yes, he thought he was a kind man, she'd asked for his name. Even with Aleci's insistence that she not name her child after him, she'd settled for Alla. 'A girl', the young woman had said, to no one in particular, nodding all the while, 'and no one wanted nothin' to do with her.'

Little Alla was now at Maera's house, her mother had taken up Maera's offer after all. Which was why Aleci suggested it in the first place to Finne, but he knew that Maera's resources were few, and the women under her wouldn't be able to sign to Ediann. Besides, her house was strictly for women, and Finne's presence would only attract the wrong sort of attention.

A new name, Aleci thought to himself, as the idea struck him, perhaps Finne might want to give his children new names, to forget Ethach's shadow on them. Out of the three names, Ethain seemed to be most linked to Ethach, an attempt by Finne to win his affections no doubt. It now stood as a barrier to the two of them bonding.

"Maybe you'd like to call him something else?" Aleci said, sitting down next to him. "If you needn't please Ethach anymore, then you needn't name Ethain after him. Perhaps you can name him after you?" Some diminutives he remembered came to his mind, "Finni? Finan? Finvi?"

"I can't name him after myself!" Finne closed his eyes, taking in a breath. "Edon was upset wasn't he? He didn't want to talk about it."

"He's not very good with his feelings," said Aleci, "but I'm sure he'll be happier tomorrow. He's convinced I gave away Stygian." Seeing the confusion on Finne's face he continued, "Ethach wrote that he wanted the horse back."

"He what?" Finne exclaimed.

Out of all the insults, that had Finne raging, and seeing it forced a laugh out of Aleci.

"He did," Aleci nodded, "and I asked the men, your half brother, Abrech, why he'd serve under such a man. Then I quoted that poem with Eosvenn and they all left in a huff."

The omission of his goading words made him sound more noble than he did. Aleci suspected the Imrukians had their own opinions on their wives and daughters. No doubt they didn't want their kin to be sullied and tossed away, a stain on the family name. Which was darkly funny because wasn't it the fathers that shook hands on such marriages? 'They abolished our order,' Maera had told him, 'we've always made certain that both parties agreed.' Well, Finne did point out the flaw in her plan, Maera was very convinced that every woman was better off married, despite... leaving her own and swearing off men entirely since. How Aleci factored into her convoluted thinking, he had no idea, but he half suspected it was because he had no interest in her students. But everyone had their own little hypocrisies, didn't they? At least Maera's flaws were better than whatever incestuous relations the noble Imrukians practiced these days. To be fair, thought Aleci, the Empire did it as well. It was disgusting when a pauper father or uncle had relations with their daughter or niece but if you claim you did it for a title then everyone turns a blind eye.

"Let me think about it," Finne said. He looked indecisive for a moment, glancing at the hand's breadth distance between them before reaching out and enveloping Aleci in a hug.

Finne had very strong arms, thought Aleci, dazed. He smelled like the road, like the soap they used to wash, and underneath there was something that Aleci couldn't place.

"Thank you," Finne whispered.

All Aleci could summon up was some sort of guttural uhm and at Finne's bemused look he wanted nothing more than the ground to swallow him up. That night he wasn't plagued by nightmares but the memories of every embarrassing, body shuddering, shameful flirtation he'd attempted. It was… an improvement.