He was too wine addled to continue anything but kiss Finne, and Finne seemed inclined to do so. Aleci never thought he would care for the taste of pomegranates until now. Finne's hands were very warm, he could feel the callouses on Finne's hands as they cup his face. When he pulled away it was with— to his surprise, great regret.

"Aleci?" Finne said, puzzled when Aleci made to leave.

"It's your room," Aleci said.

"Domina Lica," Finne shrugged his shoulders, and motioned towards the bed.

"You want me to join you?"

Finne nodded, pulling the covers and gesturing for Aleci to join him. To Aleci's disdain and horror, the cat had made himself comfortable as well. He glared at the tom who ignored him, curling his tail around his rounded stomach.

"I am not kissing you in my mother's bed," Aleci muttered. He still kept a distance from Finne, but it was Finne tonight who now moved closer. So close his curls brush up against Aleci's nose. "Good night."

Finne was gone when he woke up the next day, and Aleci swallowed a vague sense of unease. No, he decided firmly, that was just the headache from last night and the horrible chill from the open window. His mother had two connecting rooms, her dressing room was higher up, overlooking the training grounds and the vineyards. That one had the massive doors and a balcony as well, no doubt Finne had opened them.

But he wasn't on the balcony when Aleci walked up the stairs, though from the distance he could see a crowd gathering. Magister Lerius was not the fighting sort, he could tell from looking at the man. Praefect Cimul would have returned home by now, Aleci vaguely remembered saying farewell to the man. As for the remaining Praefects, he hoped the drink kept Praefect Damon sleeping until noon. The man deserved a vicious hangover he thought, pulling on his tunic for the day. After looking over whatever the tom deemed unworthy of his palate, he took the remaining sweet bread rolls and headed towards the training grounds.

Faint sounds of wood on wood could be heard when he arrived. It was Oppius and Finne, the two sparring with wooden training swords. Aleci blinked in surprise at this, it was the first time he'd seen Finne used anything more than the spears and training staffs. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, watching Finne it was apparent he was trained. Oppius wasn't holding back either, unlike slow, exaggerated movements and choreographed hits the older man would use with the younger guards, there was force behind every one of his strikes. Finne's jaw was clenched hard, he parried and danced around Oppius, using his smaller size to his advantage.

Seeing Aleci, Oppius signaled a halt to Finne and they stopped, the older man bowing politely to Aleci.

"Here, eat," said Aleci, offering Finne one of the rolls.

Finne took it, pulling himself up on top of the fence to sit, legs dangling.

"How was Praefect Damon?" said Oppius, "Unpleasant as ever?"

"Unpleasant. Maybe worst." said Aleci, and Oppius hummed an agreement.

"I do envy anyone who hasn't met them."

Finne coughed, and waved away the waterskin Oppius offered him.

Some of the other household guards had gotten up and were milling about the training yard, doing stretches. The domesticity was disrupted by a laugh from, and Aleci rubbed his temples, Praefect Damon.

"Do my eyes deceive me?" said Praefect Damon, "Aleci, near the training yards?"

Aleci opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Praefect Damon's attention fell to Finne.

"You... you..." stuttered Praefect Damon.

"Me," said Finne, innocently, wiping his hands clean of the bread crumbs.

"You foul bitch!" said Praefect Damon, ignoring the hush that followed and stalking towards Finne, pulling out his sword, «'Galer' said—»

Finne's gaze flickered towards the wooden scabbard around Praefect Damon's belt. Swirling script, Aleci thought, his head buzzing.

«That's not yours.»

«What will you do about it?» snarled Damon, and reached for his sword.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Finne tossed his wooden sword aside, side stepping the blow, before grabbing Damon's sword hand in his and the hilt of the sword in the other. There was a choked sound of surprise from the other man as he was spun around in a circle by his grip on his own sword. The Praefect's arm was twisted upwards, the sword falling from his slacken grip. He fell with a sickening sort of thud on the dirt and Finne reached for the wooden sword and placed its blade on the other man's throat, his knee on Damon's back keeping him firmly in place.

«You take what's not yours again in Imruk I swear I'll find you and hunt you down myself!»

He sprang back to his feet, using the blade to cut the scabbard loose. Then he tossed the sword to the ground a good distance away.

"Winners, keepers," he said, smiling sweetly at Praefect Damon.

The silence was broken by Mercus who started clapping. "Good sport!" he said.

The others followed, and Praefect Damon, picking himself up from the ground, made to stalk away. He didn't even bother to pick up his sword.

"Are you leaving, Praefect Damon?" said Aleci.

He took the silence as a yes, and not a while later, the wagons set up by the Magister and Praefect were rumbling away as if spurred on by Gharsius himself. Finne looked... smug as they watched, cradling the sword with the same maternal pride as he'd seen in his own mother holding his newborn sister. His fingers ran over the words carved there, along with what looked like a ship. How curious, thought Aleci.

«Eusyemm?» Aleci said, turning his head sideways and attempting what he knew was a horrible read.

"Good," Finne said aloud, shaking his head, but smiling.

It said Eosvenn, Finne told him, later, and pronounced it slowly enough that Aleci could mimic along. He leaned it on the right side of their bed, the side he slept. There was a glint in his eye whenever he looked at it before going to bed, as gleaming as the polished wood on the sword. An almost unnatural shine, Aleci thought, and he inquired more as to what an Eosvenn was. From context, he thought it was the name of a sailor, or a boat and Finne shook his head and drew a man.

"Right," Aleci agreed. «Tell more.»

He knew from the look Finne gave him his pronunciation was atrocious. Not that he wasn't trying, it was quite hard to master the sounds and their conversation in his tongue were still short clipped sentences. Aleci wasn't sure if Finne didn't like talking or if the words he proved to be a horrible tutor. Though when Finne did he talked about the friendship with Mercus and Domerc, the guards that joined them more often than not for their morning sparring sessions. As usual, he conceded to Finne, and this earned him many a frown.

"Stop!" Finne protested.

"I think he doesn't want you to hold back, Dominus Aleci," Domerc offered.

Domerc was more bolder of the two, and he had a swarthy confidence and grin to match

"Well," said Aleci, squashing the half remembered memory— someone screaming and begging and pulling at his clothes— like a gnat. "You are better, Finne."

«Better?» Finne demanded, whirling upon the other two.

«It's good!» Mercus insisted. «He's not... "cocky".»

Aleci blinked, and opened his mouth to say it was rather forward of Mercus to say so.

«He needs a thing!» Domerc blurted, wide-eyed. How had these two learned the tongue and he had not, Aleci stared, bewildered. «A thing to... to fight with!»

«I am not a thing.»

Whatever Finne said immediately chastised the guards, "I apologize Domina, what word should I say?"

Finne sniffed irritably and refused to talk further. They two guards both shook their heads when Aleci asked, confused as to what had transpired.

"It was a misunderstanding Dominus Aleci."

"Alright," said Aleci, mystified. Though Finne didn't seem too insulted so it must have been one of those slips of the tongue that made a word worst.

Later at breakfast Finne picked at his food, wrinkling his nose at the honeyed eggs that he usually enjoyed. "Is it... sour?" he said to Aleci, pushing the plate at him.

"No?" said Aleci, taking a bite into his mouth.

"Hm." said Finne, staring at the food on the table as if the dishes personally offended him.

He watched Aleci eat with barely concealed nausea on his face. When Finne covered his mouth and made gagging sounds Aleci decided he ought to say something.

"Are you alright?" Aleci leaned forward and made to feel for Finne's forehead but Finne flinched away. "Should I call for a..." he paused, making sure Finne understood the next word, "doctor? Send for Maera?"

"No!" Finne said, sounding irritated, "No doctor. No Maera."

"Fine," said Aleci, "Please drink something at least."

He pushed the lavender tea toward Finne who drank it and shuddered. Aleci found himself wishing for Maera's return. It had been almost a month, did something happen to her while on the road? He ought to send a letter to Brissa to ask, he mused. After watching Finne vainly attempt to eat more before pushing the plate away, he held out his arm and gestured that they should go to the study.

Finne had finished looking over the books. That Aleci could understand, Galer collected all manners of works relating to Mytea. So much so it could be considered a temple, if it wasn't a blasphemous thing to propose, Mytea having a temple. In any case they were dry, boring texts, so he wasn't surprise when Finne began revising the maps in Aleci's study, the ones hanging on the walls. They were laid out on the table Aleci helped him pull next to the window and Finne was redoing the lines of the mountain ranges. Aleci couldn't tell if it was accurate or not, he'd never been to Imruk himself. If his wife's knowledge of the area were true, then he didn't live quite the sequestered life that Aleci imagined. But then again, he didn't know what Finne's life was like prior to their marriage. The one time he'd asked he had been shown drawn graves after all, and the second was that drawing of the little girl and her cats. He didn't want to press, especially with his middling understanding of Imrukian and Finne's reluctance to talk about anything beyond the present.

Aleci was halfway through calculations of the villa's summer yield when he heard a clatter of the ink pot.

"Sorry," said Finne, looking distractedly at him, the window and the ink pot now on the floor, "Maera, I see her."

"Oh?" said Aleci, he glanced at the inkpot, "It's fine, you didn't get it on the map—"

Finne was gone before he finished speaking, the door nearly catching on the fabric of his stola as he left. Aleci glanced over at the window, where he could see Maera, recognizable with her colorful scarf waving to a merchant's wagon that was rolling away. He would have gone back to his calculations had he not caught sight of the small figure next to her. Maera was too old to be a mother to this child. A grandchild? It could be, the boy had the odd brownish-red color hair as Maera. The age seemed right as well, and didn't Maera say one of her daughter was feeling unwell? But then, wouldn’t the child be living with Brissa, why would she need to take him in? He hesitated, deciding to watch the reunion.

Finne met the pair not two moments later. He crouched before the child, holding out his arms. The boy, most likely, from his clothes, made to step towards Finne, then something made him pause before the boy turned to Maera. Whatever he said to Maera, and he must've said something, it caused the older woman to reach forward and take the boy's arm firmly, shaking him. She pointed at Finne, then pointed at herself. The boy turned his head, arms crossed. Finne had lowered his arms at this point, standing up to look at Maera, who, even from a distance, looked bewildered. Finne's back was to him, and Aleci could see Maera reached out to pat his back as he rushed away. The older woman crouched down to take the boy's hands into hers and he turned his head away. Now he could recognize exasperation, the same kind he'd seen in Maera's interactions with Finne and if he really wanted to remember, his own mother with him. Then she stood up, taking the boy's hand, the other holding her belongings. When the boy didn't follow her, Maera snapped a command. This got his attention, and he allowed himself to be dragged inside the villa.

Well, that was... unexpected. He wasn't sure what exactly transpired between Finne and the child. Maybe Finne naturally liked children and was unaccustomed to being rejected? It occurred to him that he didn't know, there had never been a time where he'd seen Finne interact with a child. There were no children around the villa, all the troupers with children lived a good walk away. He made to walk to Maera's quarters to ask her himself.

She, in all her canniness, met him long before his feet touched the courtyard. "Good afternoon, Dominus Aleci," said Maera, and her face was very flushed "Do you know where Finne went? He told me he'll be in his— well, your bedroom and I can't find him."

"He's not there? We've moved to my mother's rooms," said Aleci, puzzled, "Did you check the training yards?"

"He's training?" Maera exclaimed, looking scandalized, "I just... I have no words," she frowned, "You know what, I do know where he is now that you've told me he's been training. Where do you keep a ladder?"

"Sorry?" said Aleci, confused, as to how a ladder factored in to all of this.

"He's climbed up the roofs, or something equally stupid. Maybe from your balcony." said Maera, "He knows I can't climb," she gave Aleci a speculative look, "But can you, Dominus Aleci?"

"I can," said Aleci, wondering if his body still remembered how to fall. Probably not, but better him than Maera.

They walked back towards the bedroom, and Aleci asked curiously, "Does Finne like children? He looked upset when your boy rejected him. Who is the boy you've bought with you anyway?"

Maera paused, frowning, "I wouldn't know Master Aleci, he's never told me if he liked children."

She continued walking and Aleci held out a hand to stop her, "Yes, but, who is the boy?"

Maera paused, breathing heavily before she turned to look at him, "I am sorry if I sound short-tempered Master Aleci, but I was not expecting to raise more children at my age."

That was a rather blunt way of explaining it but Maera was always made her answers short.

"I am very sorry for your—" said Aleci.

"Such things just are," muttered Maera, which was a very odd thing to say to condolences. "He is a lovely child when he wants to be."

There was nothing he could say to that so he decided it was best to hold his tongue. He was one to talk about how grief manifested. It still didn't explain Finne's reaction, that much he knew. Aleci pushed the bedroom door, up the stairs and towards the balcony. It was possible for him to climb up to the roof. He'd done it before as a child, but that was years and years ago. Maera looked at him expectantly. Aleci sighed deeply, staring up at the tiles and wondering if he should just jump and pull himself up or trust that he could find the handhelds in the stone that he used to rely on.