The small boy had been standing just outside the door, his hand raised to knock, when the muffled sound of his parents' voices reached him. He froze, his breath hitching as he heard Eilika's firm, gentle tone claiming him as her own son.
'Mama is so good,' he thought, a warmth spreading through his chest that he hadn't felt in a very long time. 'She truly wants me.'
Steeling himself, he gave a polite knock and pushed the door open. "Good morning, Mother," he said, offering a humble, practiced bow before turning to Damian to repeat the greeting.
"Good morning, Roman," Eilika said, her eyes brightening. "I must say, you are dressed quite handsomely today. This outfit suits you perfectly."
She sank to her knees, her olive-green skirts pooling around her on the rug, and reached out to straighten the silver brooch on his tiny waistcoat. With a deft flick of her fingers, she centered the pin. "There. Now it is perfect. Give Mama a kiss," she said, tilting her face toward him.
