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“We’s gonna have to ‘splain everything to you, right?” Latjo says. “Mom and Mum are best friends. They’s teach the English, but the propers way. We flunk a lot.”
“’Tis ‘cause we’s so little!” Silann frowns at his brother. “You always says so, Shally. I mean, um, what ‘tis your new name?”
“Jogug,” I murmur. “My name is Jogug. But I guess you can call me Shally. If you want.”
“I do.”
“I do too!” Latjo says. “An’ I wanna hold yer hand.”
“Ask me properly,” I say on a whim.
“May I hold your hand, Shally?”
“You may.” But his little hand is in mine before I can even finish.
“May I hold it too, Shalia?” asks Silann.
And a little bit of my heart melts. I will have to make sure these two little ones are safe in their beds when I kill their father. And the girl... Hisa. Ugh, my list is growing.
I take his in my opposite hand. “Let’s take a walk before you escort me to breakfast, yes?” I ask.
“Oh, yes,” Silann says happily. “We’ll show you ‘round so’s you see everything you’ve forgotten.”
“How old are you two?” I ask.
“Three,” Latjo answers.
“Four,” Silann corrects.
“Oh, yeah. We’s had a birthday, Shally. But ‘twas a little bit quiet ‘cause you wasn’t here.” His little lip juts out in a pout.
“Born on the same day, were you?”
“Aye,” Silann says. “Like papa’s first ever steed. Shared a womb with Uncle Brun’s horse, Midnight. Papa’s was named Darkness. He had to kill it when he met mama.”
I barely contain my gasp. It’s like these two adorable little ones already know their father’s a monster.
“You tole us the story, Shally. And now we gets to tell you back,” Latjo says happily.
Strike one against Brachard, then.
“And what is your father’s steed’s name now?” I ask slyly. A small sliver of shame fills my gut at using the two for information.
“Well, that’s a funny story too,” Latjo says. “Mama’s horse was Pegasus, you see. He’s old now and his testicles have become teabags. But before they did, mama got two foals from him. Apple-O and Onion.”
My lip twitches at the testicles-to-teabags thing.
“Mama’s steed was the best in all the land,” Silann says excitedly, waving his skinny arms around. “And that’s what made papa love her. She gifted him her precious Pegasus, you see. When Papa’s Darkness died.”
“You mean when he killed him,” I say softly.
The little boy frowns. “Yeah. But then papa wanted mama because she’s so generous and so good inside. You’ll see, Shally. She’s the best mum ever!”
“I’m sure,” I say, and then gently steer them back to the conversation. “So, which is your father’s?”
“Apple-O. Uncle Brun’s is Onion.”
“Enjoy fruit, do they?”
