Late May, 1617

The next day seemed uneventful enough, the morning filled with the usual antics and games of children and household. But the afternoon brought with it a true surprise, one none of them could have foreseen happening so soon. A startlingly nondescript carriage drew along the busy street, coming to a halt outside the Kramer townhouse. The footman jumped down to knock on the door, turning back to open the carriage door and offer his hand to the occupant. A dark-haired lady - definitely a lady, not merely a woman - cloaked in fine wool with velvet flashing beneath as her gown, stepped down, heedless of the mud beneath her heel and hem.

As the door opened, the lady's face sweetened into a warm smile. "You must be Hilde," she said in a fond tone. "Avy was always so affectionate when she mentioned you."

Hilde's mouth fell open, her eyes wide in shock. "L-lady Von Ansburg?"

Leo was in his study, busy pouring over his correspondence, when the lady arrived, unaware she had accepted his invitation as he had not yet received a response, nor expected to for some days yet. He had told deVerne that he needed a little time to prepare for a visit - or had at least alluded to such - but apparently the lady could not wait. So absorbed in his work, he did not hear the sound of a carriage outside or the knock on the door, and even if he did, he was confident his housekeeper would tend to it and alert him if his presence was needed.

Indeed, the first he knew of it was his study door opening to admit a very flustered Hilde. His housekeeper shut the door behind her, waving a hand to get his attention. "Sir! Oh, sir, she's here! Lady Esmerelda, she's here, she's waiting in the parlor!"

He was about to ask who was there, when she told him and he jerked his head up from his correspondence, brows arching upwards. "Hilde, I am not in the mood for nonsense," he warned, thinking she was putting him on for some reason, though the expression on her face was convincingly flustered.

"Aye, sir, and neither am I," she informed him sharply. "I've laundry to finish, food to cook, children to watch over, and on top of it all, there's the closest thing to a duchess we have in this city sitting in our parlor! She knew my name, sir - she spoke to me just the way the poor mistress did!"

Leo returned the correspondence he'd been reading to the pile on the desk and withdrew the spectacles from his face, folding them carefully and setting those aside, too. "I only wrote her yesterday. How can she be here already?" he asked, not really a question for Hilde so much as himself.

"P'raps she was waiting, sir?" Hilde didn't know the answer herself. "P'raps she truly believes that family, blood, is more important than wealth and station. In truth, sir, I do not know, and I do not care to guess. But you must come to the parlor, before the children find her there."

Though this reunion might be a happy occasion, the look on Leo's face was annoyed. They were clearly not yet prepared for a visit, and yet, she was there. They hadn't had a chance to hire a maid or a cook to help with the chores. They hadn't even had a chance to prepare the guest room or tell the children she was coming.

"Very well," he replied, moving to his feet and pausing a moment to straighten his tunic. Duchess or not, he would just see about this.

What had he expected to find in his parlor" She was unmarried still, at twenty-four years - was she a middle-aged spinster, snooping and prying into what few secrets were kept there" Some deformed monstrosity looking down her ugly nose at the sparse furnishings" He found neither.

Lady Esmerelda was a beauty, the moon to her sister's darkened sun, possessed of shining black hair, a round smiling face, bright blue eyes that were fixed upon the portrait of her sister and brother-in-law that hung above the fireplace. She was young and pretty ....and had the decency to look extremely guilty and contrite when the master of the house entered his own parlor.

Rising, she curtsied to him. "Master Kramer, I beg your forgiveness for my haste," she rushed to explain herself before any words could be said. "I feared my father might change his mind, and I have so longed to meet you, and the children. I understand my being here is a burden, one that I would offer to alleviate if I had but the slightest idea how to offer it without causing offence." There was a brief pause. "Oh ....and I am Esmerelda Von Ansburg."

He had fully intended to give her a piece of his mind for being haughty and presumptuous and for throwing his household and housekeeper into distress, but when he saw her standing there, gazing at her late sister's portrait, his heart softened. How many times had he, too, stood in that very same spot, looking up at the face of a brother he'd never see again - a face he recognized in the boy that he was raising as his own, along with the girl that looked so much like her late mother. He lifted a hand to silence her.

"I know who you are," he replied, hoping his voice didn't sound too abrupt. "We were not expecting you for some weeks, and I'm afraid we are not properly prepared for your visit."

Her hands folded themselves together at her waist as she turned fully to face him. "I did not want to visit as ....as a duke's daughter," she said quietly. "I am more than my father, and less than my sister. I will sleep on a straw mattress in the outhouse and bless you for it, if you will only allow me to stay for just a few days. If, by then, you wish nothing more to do with our house, I will leave and abide by your wishes. You and the children will never be troubled by us again."

He frowned, his heart softening further, not so much by her beauty, though she was without a doubt beautiful, in a different way than her sister had been beautiful. No, it was not her beauty that softened his mood or his resolve, but the graciousness and honesty of her words.

"I am sure we can do better than that," he said, not only remembering his place, but his manners. He could not deny her a visit with the children who were as much her flesh and blood as they were his. He did not bother to introduce himself, as she already knew him by name, but instead, he gestured to a chair near the hearth. "Please, make yourself comfortable," he said, offering her a short bow.

The sheen of her eyes threatened tears for just a moment, a betrayal of how afraid she had been that he might just demand she leave and never return in that instant. But, for all her honesty, she was a duke's daughter, a lady of the land, and she would not shed tears openly before anyone. Instead, she conjured a faint smile, inclining her head to him as she took a seat. "Thank you, Master Kramer."

He was not, after all, without compassion for her position - the daughter of a man who had turned his back on his eldest daughter, all because she had not only dared fall in love with a commoner, but had married him and borne his children. And what had it earned Avila but an early grave? He did not quite believe that the man could have had his own daughter killed, but the carriage accident had been a little too suspicious for his liking. He said none of this to the lady, not wishing to upset her further. He had recognized the look of grief and perhaps fear on her face, but none of this was her fault.

"Not a day goes by that I do not look on that portrait and grieve their loss," he said, letting her know how much the loss of his brother and her sister still grieved him.

Her eyes rose to the portrait once again, lingering on the painted face of a sister she had not seen in the flesh since she was barely more than a child. "You are lucky to have them still here in your home," she told him quietly. "To have their likeness so close. I am ....I am so very sorry for the loss you have endured, and the troubles it brought you. And I am sorry I did not come to the funeral. I should have, but I did not. That will be on my conscience until the day I die."

He resisted the urge to shrug his shoulders, inclining his head instead to acknowledge her apology before looking back to the portrait. "It was a sad affair. It is better you remember her the way she was," he told her, moving to stoke the fire, in part simply to have something to do.

"The children are looking forward to meeting you," he said, offering her his arm to escort her from the room and toward the staircase that would lead to the second floor and the bedrooms.

"I am looking forward to meeting them," she admitted easily, her smile warming as she took his arm, allowing him to lead her about his home. She had never felt so quickly at ease with anyone in her life before now, offering silent thanks to her sister for the affection Avila had held for her brother-in-law and shared with Esme. It was a good beginning.

It was a strange feeling to have a woman on his arm. Leo could not remember when he had last conversed with a woman who wasn't his housekeeper, his sister-in-law, or a customer. Too long, he supposed, but he had the children to think of now - not his own wants and needs. "Anna is very much like her mother. You will find her affectionate and easy to love. Matias is the quieter of the two. You may have to work a little harder to earn his trust," he warned her as he led her up the stairs.

"I do not expect them to welcome me with open arms, Leop- Master Kramer," Esme assured him, her comfort in his presence deep enough to make her trip over how to address him in his own home. "It will take time. But at least they will be able to put a face to my name." A faint creak from the other end of the hallway as they reached the top of the stair caught her attention, her gaze flickering that way very briefly. Just in time to catch sight of two small heads ducking out of sight around a doorway.

He arched a brow as she almost called him by name, but did not make any mention of it, not only because he was unsure what to say, but because he had just spied a familiar pair of heads peeking at them from behind a doorway. "Speak of the little devils ....I do not wish to alarm you, but I believe we are being watched, my lady," he told her, with obvious amusement in his voice.

"Do you think I should brace for an attack?" she asked, perfectly aware that the children could hear every word. "And please, Master Kramer ....I should very much like to be simply Esme in the privacy of your home. I have been "my lady" for too many years already."

He did not think it proper to call her by her first name, but perhaps it would be better, for the children's sake. It wasn't even her proper name, but the shortened version, the more familiar version. The least he could do was to match her request. "Very well, but then you must call me Leo."

Her smile reappeared, warm and grateful. "Very well, Leo," she agreed, his name coming easily to her lips. She glanced over her shoulder as he lead her toward her chamber, that smile deepening as the children ducked out of sight once again. "I am beginning to think these children do not exist at all," she said then, the mischief on her face and in her voice more than evidence enough that she was playing the game they had set by hiding from her. "Tell me ....is it Magnus and Angelina, or Maximillian and Agnes" I can never recall."

Leo caught on to the fact that she was willing to play the children's game and pretend they didn't know they were being watched, and he was only too willing to follow her lead. He even offered a wink to let her know he understood, as he pretended to ignore the children and lead her on toward the guest room. "Matias and Anna," he corrected, knowing the pair was listening. "I'm sure they will make themselves known when they are ready," he said, rapping his knuckles on the guest room door to warn Hilde of their arrival.

There was a faint yelp from the other side of the door, the sound of rushing footsteps, and Hilde opened it, her arms full of dusty cloths. She bobbed a curtsy to them both, her face flushed. "I hope it's to your liking, master, m'lady."

"I am sure the lady will find it suitable, Hilde. Thank you," he replied, knowing the woman had done her best to tidy and freshen the room in a hurry. He would make sure to thank her properly in her next paycheck, knowing her worth. He could not, of course, speak for the lady, but he was also hoping she would find her room and their hospitality to her liking.

"I am very sure that I will be very comfortable here, Hilde," Esme assured the woman, releasing Leo's arm to gently touch the housekeeper's hand. "Please, do not fret yourself over my abominable bad manners in arriving unexpectedly. I am anyone else, while I am here. Try to forget who my father is."

Hilde glanced warily at Leopold, not entirely sure how to answer this.

Leo shrugged his shoulders in reply and nodded his head. What else could he do but abide by the lady's wishes" No matter if she wanted them to forget she was the duke's daughter, she was still a guest in their home and would be treated as such. "It seems we will be having a guest for supper, Hilde," he told her, though she must have assumed that already. It was his way of telling her that if there was anything she needed, she could purchase it in his name.

"Of course, sir." Hilde seemed to relax a little, bobbing a second curtsy before bustling from the room. There was a quiet round of giggling from the hallway, accompanied by a fondly scowling sound from the housekeeper.

Esme felt herself smile again as she turned from the room to Leo once again. "Thank you for allowing me to stay, Leo."

"No need to thank me. It is an honor to have you as our guest," he told her, all too aware of the little spies who were watching and giggling nearby. "I only wish the children were here to meet you," he said with a dramatic sigh. "I can't imagine where they must be."

"Ah, yes, these apparently mythical children," she agreed, that mischievous glimmer back in her eyes. "It is a shame they do not seem to exist. I had thought to share a few treasures from my childhood with their mother, but sadly it seems those treasures will have to remain in my chest."

"I am sure they will show up at some point," he said. "Hopefully before dinner. As I understand it Hilde is planning a special dessert," he added, as he escorted her into the room and out of sight of the children, but not out of range of hearing.

"Avy had nothing but praise for Hilde's cooking," Esme told him, her pleasure genuine at the prospect of trying it for herself. "I have spent many hours seething with jealousy over her descriptions of the meals she shared with all of you here."

From out in the hallway came the sound of Anna's confusion, in what the little girl probably thought was a whisper. "But she's a duckess. Doesn't she have a how's keeper like Hildy at home?"

Leo was curious what else Avila had told her sister of life in their home, and even what she might have told her of him, but even if he wanted to ask, Anna's voice drew him out of his thoughts and he smiled in amusement.

"Duchess," he heard Matias murmur back. "And be quiet or they'll hear you!" he warned her.

Inside the room, Leo was gesturing for Esme to come with him to sneak up and surprise the children, touching a finger to his lips not to tell.

As Esme bit down on a laugh, raising her skirts to move quietly with him toward the door, Anna was berating her brother for scolding her. "They're growed ups, Matty, they won't hear me 'cos I am small and little and quiet and not a clumpy boy like you!"

"An' you whisper like the crowd on market day!" the boy countered, his own voice none too quiet, but quieter than hers. "And I'm not a clumpy boy. There's no such word as clumpy!" he corrected her further, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"There is!" There was a small thump as Anna stamped her foot, forgetting to keep her voice down. "You go clump-clumping all over the place in your big noisy boots, and I want to see Mama's sister, and if you don't want to, you can -"

"He can make his own mind up, when he is ready, little one," Esme said, unwilling to be the cause of an argument between the children so soon after arriving. She tipped her head through the doorway to offer them a smile. "Hello."

Matias was about to open his mouth with an retort of his own when the arguing was interrupted by a female voice, and suddenly there was a lady peeking at them from the doorway and smiling sweetly, and he found his face flushing with embarrassment.

Leo stepped out into the hallway to save them and introduce them to their mother's sister. "Children, say hello to your Aunt Esme. She's going to be staying with us for a little while."

He was not so very stern or stiff as he might seem, but given the circumstances, he was being careful. She was the daughter of a duke, after all, and the sister of his late brother's wife. There was an unspoken etiquette about such matters, and though they might become friends, he had to be careful he did not upset the rules of propriety. Despite those rules, he found himself eager to know her better. With a nod of his head, he backed toward the door. "Of course. I will wait for you in the hallway."

"Thank you." It took only a few moments for her to deposit her cloak in the room assigned to her, and to wash her hands. When she returned to him, she was just as friendly as she had been all along, but with the removal of her cloak, it seemed a little more intimate. "This is your family home, yes" Your grandfather owned it?"

"Yes," he replied, offering his arm once again, so that he could give her a tour of his family home. "I grew up here," he explained, trying not to notice how pretty she was. It had been a long time since he'd had the luxury of admiring a pretty face and even long since he'd had a pretty woman on his arm.

Her hand curled into the crook of his arm, the other rising to lay over her own fingers. Not the formal touch of a lady, but the familiar touch of a friend. Even a lover. It had been a familiarity that Avila had displayed as well, a sign that their mother had taught her daughters well how to be real people, as well as painted dolls for the nobility. "And did you have a happy childhood, Leo?"

"I think so," he replied, though a little sadness could be found in even the happiest childhood. "I think my mother would have liked a daughter, but she never held it against us," he told her as he led her from the room and back toward the stairs.

"My mother would have loved to have a son," Esme shared with him. "It was that wish that killed her, in the end. But she never let us feel that we were a disappointment. I'm sure she would have adored Ernst."

He frowned again at the mention of her mother's death. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said, trying to sound as sincere as he could. Though the words were mostly meaningless, the sentiment was not. "Do you really think she would have approved?" he asked, curiously, as he led her down the stairs.

"Yes, I do." Esme was very certain of that. "Mama didn't like politics. She said it got in the way of what was truly important. If she'd lived, she would never have allowed Papa to cut off all communication with Avila and Ernst. She would have visited here every week herself."

He silently took this information in, wishing things would have been different, but it was too late to change things and there was no point in regret. "It is not too late, Esme," he assured her. While it might be too late for their siblings and their parents, it was not yet too late for her father, or them, or the children.

"If I am welcome to visit, then I shall as often as I can, once the immediate danger is passed," she assured him. "But truly, Leo, only if I am welcome. I do not wish you to have to tolerate my presence. If you and the children would be happier without this connection, then I will respect that."

"Let us not speak of that now, Esme," Leo replied. She had only just arrived, after all, and they both needed time to process this all. In the end, he would let the children decide and do what he felt was best for them anyway.

"There is plenty of time to talk of that later," he added, as he started his guided tour. The house was neither small nor large, big enough to accommodate guests and yet small enough to still feel intimate and cozy. He led her through each room, one at a time, each room holding small touches that hinted at a woman's touch - her sister's touch.

It was a beautiful home, in Esme's opinion. Home was, perhaps, the right word for it - her own was grand and large, and only her own rooms felt occupied. But this house, with its functional rooms and busy noises ....it felt real in a way the ducal manor never could. It felt alive.

"What is it you actually do, Leo?" she asked curiously. "Avila could never quite tell me clearly. She said your family were merchants, then she seemed to change her mind and said you were traders. I confess, I do not understand the distinction."

He came to a halt in the parlor, coming full circle as that was the room he had first greeted her in. Hilde, Goddess bless her heart, had set out a pot of hot, fresh coffee and a plate of sandwiches in case they were hungry - or more accurately, in case the lady was hungry. He let go of her arm and gestured with a hand to the same chair she'd been seated in not long ago beside the fire, while he poured them each a cup of the richly fragrant dark liquid. "I am a coffee merchant," he told her, privately noting the irony.

The irony was not lost on her, either, but she did not draw attention to it, only smiling a little secretively as she watched him. "Do you own a shop in the city, then" Or do you trade in bulk to other stores and merchants across Meringia?"

"No, it is more like the latter. I supply stores and merchants with coffee in exchange for a fee, and they then sell it in their shops and to their customers at a mark-up for a profit," he explained. "Sugar or cream?" he asked, once the coffee was poured, filling the room with its unique fragrance.

"Neither, thank you." Taking up the cup, she breathed in the familiar bitter aroma for a long moment. "You must have contacts among the captains who trade at the docks, then," she commented, still as curious as before. "I have never visited the docks - such a place is unseemly for me to be seen in, apparently. Is it really populated by pirates and whores?"

He chuckled. He had his connections, to be sure, but he did not really want to talk about his business. "Not so much as you might think, but yes, the docks are no place for a lady. Excuse the expression," he said, a hint of a smirk on his face at the word she had asked him not to use.

A soft huff of amusement left her lips. "Then it is just as well that I am not a lady for the duration of my stay here, is it not?" she asked innocently, laying the implication that she might well go exploring while under his roof.

His expression sobered, taking her threat seriously. "I would not recommend you go there alone," he told her, not quite promising to take her there or forbidding her either. He reclaimed the seat across from her, a table between them laden with coffee and sandwiches.

"You are the only man I have ever met who has not expressly forbidden me from doing something I did not actually say aloud I might do," she murmured, her eyes growing just a little more admiring as she sipped her coffee. "Thank you for not treating me as entirely breakable."

Both brows arched upwards in curiosity at her remark. "Who am I to forbid you anything?" he asked, alluding once again to the difference in their stations, and yet, she seemed to value his judgment. "As I said, it is not a place for a lady," he repeated.

"Not a place for a lady alone, perhaps." Esme's eyes crinkled as she smiled at him over the rim of her coffee cup. "I assure you, I have no intention of inviting trouble. I do, however, express myself a little too bluntly at times to avoid it."

He still had that look on his face, a little too serious, perhaps, but he didn't take her safety lightly. "Do not ask me to take you there," he warned. At least, not yet. He was serious when he said the docks were no place for one such as she.

She held his gaze for a long moment, wondering why he was suddenly so concerned that she should not so much as see the docks. A lifetime of being forbidden everything interesting sparked a little suspicion in the back of her mind, but she dismissed it. He knew the city; she did not. "I will not ask you to take me to the docks, sir."

He thought she at least deserved to know why. She was not a child, after all, but a woman, young and sheltered as she was. "I'm sorry, Esme, but it is too dangerous there," he explained, hoping she'd understand that he was not denying her for no good reason.

"What is it that makes the docks so dangerous for a woman to visit them?" she asked, trusting him to answer her truthfully. "I am sure that some merchants must take their wives to wave them off when they leave, and the sailors' wives, too, must do the same. Why should I be in such specific danger?"

That was a good question and one that was not easy to answer. He took a sip of his coffee, then reached for one of the sandwiches, which gave him a moment or two to consider before he had to answer. "Because it is a place of transients," he started. "People who come and go and never stay in one place for very long. Not all of them, of course, but many of them. There are merchants and sailors and dock workers, yes, but there are also pickpockets and prostitutes and other unsavory types who prey on others. It is rather sad to think that some of them have never known any other life, and even sadder still to know that some of them never will, some by choice."

Esme blinked, tilting her head toward him. "We?" she echoed curiously. "You propose to come to the manor and leave the children here, unprotected" I will not allow you to do that, Leo."

"No, of course not, but I do not like the idea of you attempting this alone," he replied. She did forbid him from bringing the children to the ducal manor, however, for fear of their safety, and that posed a problem. "If only we could ensure their safety ..." he mused aloud.

"How would you do that?" she asked, setting her coffee cup down. "You are their guardian, you know what is best for them. At present, the risks I take are mine alone. I would rather not risk your life or theirs."

"Hmm," he murmured, quieting as his thoughts turned inward. He did not want to put her life in danger either. "There has to be a way," he said, but from the sound of footsteps above their heads, the children in question had just been released by their tutor and the rest of the conversation would have to wait until later. Leo glanced upwards at the sound of feet darting across the floor and smiled. "I believe our plotting will have to wait."

She glanced up with him, laughing a little at the enthusiastic sound of small feet on the floor above and the stairs. "So it would seem," she agreed. "Later, then?"

"Later," he agreed, moving to his feet and offering her a hand. "Shall we hide and see if they can find us?" he suggested, a playful smile on his face, proof he was not as stiff and stern as he might have seemed.

The unexpected playfulness of his smile tugged at her heart, raising her own smile in mischief in answer. "I bow to your whims, Master Kramer," she agreed, taking his hand to rise to her feet. "Dare I ask where we are going to hide away?"

"Hmm," Leo murmured as he cast a look around the room. There were few places to hide, aside from a closet, but that was too obvious. "Here!" he said, grabbing her hand with hardly a thought to propriety and tugging her across the room to hide behind a wide set of draperies that covered the window, hoping their toes didn't stick out to give them away. The evidence they had been there in the way of coffee and sandwiches remained on the table, but perhaps the children would think they had left them there.

Squashing down her desire to laugh at this sudden display of silly good humor, Esme caught her skirt in one hand as he pulled her along, shuffling behind the drapes to crowd in against him. Thankfully, the window looked out onto the garden, not the street.

Here was a hint that life in the Kramer household was not always as serious and dull as it might have seemed at first. Despite the tragedy, Leo and Hilde made sure the children were not only well cared for, but happy, and happiness included laughter and fun. It was a part of childhood he did not wish the children to miss, even if they weren't really his. He was careful to make sure the draperies covered their feet, but he couldn't help the way he and Esme were giggling, like children themselves.

It had been a very long time since Esme had done anything quite so childlike and entertaining as this, clinging to Leo's arm as she tried not to laugh too loudly. The children were not likely to be in the dark for long. Small footsteps clattered down the stairs, heading for the parlor door, and she pressed her mouth to Leo's shoulder to muffle her giggles.

Kissing her would have been an easy way to muffle those giggles, but Leo was not quite that daring or forward, especially not with someone who was so far above his station. He did smile at her as she tried to muffle her own giggles though, and laid a finger against his own lips to encourage her not to give them away. They could hear Matias and Anna's footsteps as they approached and then entered the parlor, but the children were used to their uncle's games and would likely find them before long. Leo couldn't help but savor the moment, astonished to find Esme's eyes were a startling shade of blue.

By some supreme effort, she managed to silence her laughter, raising those startling eyes to his above a wide smile, leaning into his arm with more trust than she'd ever displayed to anyone but her father. As the parlor door creaked open, mischief flared in her gaze, her eyes flickering to the drape that concealed them and back to him, sharing the sweet intimacy of this silly game just a little while longer.

It was rather silly, and yet, this was the closest Leo had come to a woman since before his brother had died and he had become the children's guardian. There was something dangerous and forbidden and exciting about being so close to her, and it wasn't just the fact that they were hiding or that she was the daughter of a duke. There was something about the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled, the scent of her perfume filling his senses. He could have easily been drawn to kiss her right then, if it wasn't for the footsteps and the whisper of voices that had just entered the parlor.

"Lunch!" Anna's immediate declaration in entering the room very nearly gave the game away entirely, as Esme bit down on her lips to try and hold back a fresh laugh at the enthusiastic sound of a little mouth making short work of the nearest sandwich.

"We just had lunch, Anna," Matias reminded her, looking a little disappointed that there were no biscuits on the tray and even more disappointed that there was no one there. "Hilde said they were here," he mused quietly, taking a slow look around the room.

"I like lunch," was Anna's answer, a little muffled through her mouthful of bread and meat. She watched her brother inspecting the room with curious eyes, not sure what he expected to find. "Matty ....do you think that Uncle Leo will marry Aunt Esme and we will be a family like we was before?"

That question made Leo raise his brows, his cheeks flushing a little in embarrassment at the little girl's very blunt but hopeful question posed to her brother. He dared not meet Esme's gaze for fear she would notice his guilty-looking embarrassment. There were worse things to hope for than marriage.

For his part, Matias seemed more puzzled by his uncle's sudden disappearance than by his sister's question. "Don't be silly, Anna. They only just met. 'Sides, Aunt Esme is gonna be a duchess someday. A real duchess. She'll probably marry someone noble, like her."

"Mama didn't marry someone nobble," the little girl pointed out. "She married Papa 'cos of love."

Behind the drape, Esme found herself blushing, unable to meet Leo's gaze but instead finding her eyes fixed on the curve of his mouth. She swallowed, knowing propriety was demanding that she step away. But she didn't want to step away.

"Mama didn't have to, 'cause of Aunt Esme, but Aunt Esme won't have a choice," Matias reasoned, knowing what little he did of noble bloodlines.

Leo shuffled a little, obviously uncomfortable about overhearing the children's banter, mostly because it was about them. What Matias was telling Anna was true, and yet, exceptions had been known to happen, but Leo doubted such an exception would be made for him. He found himself frowning again, not because the thought of marrying Esme was an unpleasant one, but just the opposite. He simply could not afford to think that way.

"Why can't Uncle Leo be a nobble?"

Innocent as the question was, the mispronounciation was enough to draw a quiet snort of laughter from Esme's lips. Or perhaps she laughed aloud deliberately, to avoid further eavesdropping on a conversation that was more than a little uncomfortable to be witness to. Matias was right, in his own way; she would never be able to marry for love. The best she could hope for was to marry a friend of the right rank, and even then, she would be pushed into the shadows while her husband took the rank intended for her.

"'Cause you have to be born to it, silly!" Matias replied, just as the tell-tale snort sounded from the direction of the windows. The boy's head swiveled that way, and a slow grin spread across his face, even as he touched a finger to his lips to silence his sister and pointed toward the windows.

"Does that mean you're a nobble, 'cos of Mama?" Anna asked, hastily slapping a hand over her mouth as he signaled for her to be quiet. She followed his pointing finger to the drapes, which seemed a little more solid than usual.

Behind those drapes, though the children could not know it, Esme had her own hand over her mouth, looking almost a mirror image of her niece in that moment.

Though there was a scowl on his face, Matias remained obediently behind, looking a little annoyed at his sister for not only abandoning him but for talking to him like he was the family dog.

Esme watched the two go, leaving her with a scowling little boy who was not certain he should trust or even like her. She sighed softly. "They are not very subtle, are they?" she asked gently.

Matias' young forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What does subtle mean?" he asked, betraying his youthful six years. He might be bright, but he didn't know everything.

"Subtle means an action that is not obvious," she explained. "If they had arranged for Hilde to come and get them, with a good reason for it, just so they could leave us alone together, that would have been subtle."

His brows furrowed further as he tried to sort out what she meant by that explanation. "You mean, they left us alone on purpose," he said. It was not a question. But why' Why would his uncle do that' It was clearly Anna who was excited about her aunt's visit.

"Yes, I think they did." Esme sat upright, gently taking his hands in hers as she tilted her head to meet his eyes. "Matias, I know you don't know me, and you have no reason to trust me," she told him softly. "I would like to change that, but before I can even begin, I must make you this promise. Whatever I do, whatever we do, it will not take you away from your uncle, or your sister. I will not change your life if I can possibly help it."

He met her gaze with a quiet and serious gaze of his own, as if he was studying her, considering her words and her honesty. She was like his mother and unlike his mother, all at the same time. He wanted to trust her; he wanted to like her, but deep down, he was simply afraid that if he got too attached, he would lose her and have to feel the pain of that loss all over again. Still, she seemed to want something from him - his trust or his affection or both. Winning Anna's heart would be easy, but Matias was wary. Still, he was young and could not help but be hopeful.

"I 'member Mama better than Anna. She was too little when Mama died. She was pretty like you, but different somehow." He paused in his comparisons, unsure what to say to her promise. "I miss her," he admitted quietly, unable to hide the grief from his voice. He missed his father, too, but in a different way than he missed his mother.

"I miss her too," Esme told him softly, not even trying to hide her own grief from the little boy before her. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you when we lost your parents, but I am very glad that you have your uncle to love and care for you. I know we're strangers right now, but I would like to be your friend someday."

"I would like that, too," Matias replied without hesitation. After all, this lady was his mother's sister and the closest he would ever come to a substitute. "Were you and my mother close?" he asked, curiously. His uncle had told them stories of their father, but they'd been told few stories of their mother.

"She was my best friend, and my biggest protector," Esme told him, her smile warming as she felt a gentle rush of relief. She wasn't as far from being accepted by these little people as she had thought she might be. "You know what she loved to do' She loved to read, and to write. I have some of the stories she wrote when we were children, and her favorite storybook to read. I was hoping you might like them. She always said you were very fond of books."

Matias' eyes widened in surprise. Though she had said she had some things of his mother's she wanted to pass on, he had not expected much, assuming most of his mother's things would go to his sister. "You want to give them to me?" he asked, hardly believing his own ears.

"If you would like them, yes." She released his hand, gently touching his cheek, unaware that it was a gesture that echoed one her sister had given her children many, many times. "She was so proud of you. If you would like, I can show you her letters to me. She could fill pages about her bright boy."

He could not help the tears that filled his eyes at the thought of his mother and the shared affection they had held for each other. Though he had only been five years old when she'd died, her loss had nearly broken his young heart. He sniffled, hoping she didn't notice that he was tearing up. "I would like that, thank you."

"Oh, my little love ..." She drew in a tentative breath. "May I embrace you, Matias" I know I cannot be what she was, but I should very much like to hug my nephew. But I will not do it unless it is what you want."

He only had to consider a moment before nodding his head. He missed his mother's hugs more than he cared to admit, and though his uncle meant well, there was nothing that could replace a mother's love, except perhaps that of her sister.

Esme didn't need more encouragement than that. She reached out to draw him up onto her lap, wrapping her arms about the little boy her big sister had been so proud of. Her cheek brushed his hair as she stroked her hand against his back, silent tears escaping for the knowledge that Avila would never hold her son this way again.

He hiccuped a soft sob as she drew him in, resting his cheek against her shoulder as he wound his arms around her neck, before releasing a soft sigh. There was comfort in her embrace, and safety and security that he hadn't really felt since his mother had left them, even though his uncle had done his best. There was just no replacing a mother's touch, even if Esme wasn't really his mother.

"You won't leave us, will you?" he asked, in a quiet voice. "You won't let Uncle leave us?"

"I will do everything in my power to make sure that you never have to leave your uncle," she promised him, firm and quiet in that moment. "I can't promise to always be here myself, but I am hoping that I will be able to visit you very often, and I can promise to write to you every week, the way I did with your mother."

Somehow he knew that was going to have to be good enough. Matias nodded and lifted his head from her shoulder to wipe the tears from his face. "I would like that very much," he told her, hoping to get to know her better now that she was here. "Why-why didn't you visit before?" he asked. Despite her earlier apology and explanation, he didn't really understand.

She drew a handkerchief from her sleeve, embroidered with her initials, gently wiping his face dry. "Because my father made a lot of mistakes," she told him. "His first mistake was in letting the people around him say that your mother was wrong to love your father. Because he listened to them, because he was worried about the way that they saw him, he pretended not to have two daughters. Your mother made me promise to go along with him. That was why we only wrote letters for so many years. And now, when he is getting old, the people he thinks are his friends are giving him bad advice. To protect my father, I had to pretend not to care that my sister was gone. It is the hardest thing I have ever had to do, and I did not know that my father wanted me to come and visit you until just a few days ago. But I am here now, and I will try to make it up to you, Matias."

Matias still had that serious look on his face, but he was no longer crying. There was almost a look of defiance or anger flashing in his eyes, angry at those who had tried to keep them apart. "But my mother loved my father. And we are family. Why would anyone want to keep us apart?" he asked, still not understanding, too young to understand plots and politics and power.

"Because a lot of the nobility in this country think that loving someone isn't as important as making sure you marry someone who is the same as you," she tried to explain. "It's very unfair, and a lot of people are made unhappy by it."

"The same as you?" he echoed, understanding at last. He'd explained as much to his sister, even if his understanding of it was imperfect. "You will be a duchess someday. Who do you have to marry?" he asked, curiously. Anna was right - it would be wonderful if Aunt Esme would marry Uncle Leo, but he didn't want to get his hopes dashed.

"These things are very complicated, Matias," Esme said gently. "I am a woman, and that means that I cannot inherit my father's title or his lands. I will never be a duchess, but I will always be a duke's daughter. If I have a son, he may be the next duke." She was careful not to mention that Matias was, in fact, the next in line for the ducal throne. It had not been decided for certain, and she would fight tooth and nail to keep him from being forced into the role herself.

"I will always remember her," he promised, though he was so young, it was likely those memories would fade with time. Thankfully, they would always have her portrait and he would have her books to remember her by. "Thank you, Aunt Esme," he said, smiling a little shyly and leaning over to touch a quick kiss to her cheek before hurrying off to find his sister.

She watched him go, her heart aching for this little boy who had been kept so safe from the world his mother had run from before he was born. She hoped she could keep him just as safe, if not for her sister then for his own sake. Rising to her feet, she slipped from the room, hitching her skirts to run up the stairs two at a time - something she hadn't done in her own home for years.

Meanwhile, Matias went in search of his uncle and Anna, who'd gone in search of biscuits. He caught up with them in the kitchen chatting with Hilde as she put a plate together and another tray of coffee for the adults and cocoa for the children. "Anna! Aunt says she will meet us in the parlor. She has a present for you!"

"For me?" Anna's eyes opened wide as she stared at her brother, glancing up at the adults as though expecting confirmation before returning her gaze to her brother. "And for you too' 'Cos it's not fair otherwise!"

Matias nodded, enthusiastically. "She's giving me some of Mama's books," he said, knowing Anna wouldn't be jealous of that, and if she really wanted to read them, he was willing to share. He grabbed hold of her hand to tug her back toward the parlor before their aunt got back. "Come on!"

Wriggling down off the chair where she had been watching the assembly of the biscuits and cocoa, Anna giggled, more than happy to be pulled about by her big brother. It was wonderful to see him excited about the same thing she was excited by, for once.

Hilde watched them go, one brow raised above a tolerant smile. "Seems the lady has made quite the impression on our young man there, sir," she commented to Leo.

"It does seem so," Leo remarked, turning to watch the two children scamper away. "It's good to see him smile again," he observed quietly. He wasn't so worried about Anna, who seemed the more light-hearted of the pair, while Matias was the serious one.

Hilde tilted her gaze toward her master for a long moment, too. "It isn't just the young man that's taken to her, is it, sir?" she commented, secure in the knowledge that she was twice his age and he couldn't get rid of her without suffering very real consequences.

Leo caught her meaning, but thankfully, he didn't blush. "Yes, Anna seems quite taken with her, too," he said, a small smirk on his face. He knew she was referring to Anna, but himself, but he let her think what she wanted.

The housekeeper nodded to herself, smiling in her knowing way. "Well, it will be nice to have a lady about the house again, if only for a few days," she admitted, stirring the cocoa into cups for the children. "She's no airs and graces I can see, either."

"I should hope she will stay for more than a few days," Leo remarked, not quite realizing how taken he was to their guest until that very moment.

"Aye, well, with your permission, I'll send my boy out to fetch a girl from the workhouse to be a third pair of hands while we've a guest with us," Hilde said, carefully not touching the fact that she hadn't seen her master this taken with anyone before. Perhaps the shine would wear off after a few days, perhaps not.

"Whatever you need, Hilde. I trust you," he assured her, though he hoped she knew that already. "Do you need help with the tray?" he asked, knowing the woman only had two hands, and he wasn't afraid of pitching in when necessary.

"Did you think I was going to carry it for you?" she asked in amusement, wiping her hands clean on her apron. "Your guest, your problem, Master Leo. You're a big strong man - I should think a small tray isn't going to trouble you greatly."

"Well played, Mistress Hilde," Leo remarked with a grin before moving to take up the tray. "Wish me luck!" he added with a sly wink before turning to rejoin the children and their guest in the parlor.

The housekeeper waved him away as she laughed, sending him back to the little gathering in the parlor. By the time he reached the room where his nephew and niece were waiting, Esme was already in there, seated on the floor with the pair of them. One arm was around Anna, gathered into her lap and playing with a familiar but unfamiliar doll; the other was stroking through Matias' hair as he perused a small stack of slender books in front of him.

Leo paused in the doorway, surprised by the sweet domesticity of the scene in front of him. Though she wasn't their mother, she couldn't imagine Avila being any more loving or affectionate with them than Esme. It wasn't the similarity to Avila that struck him so much as the possibility that perhaps they really could be a family again, but he knew it was too soon to think that way and pushed the thought from his head before stepping into the room. "I'm back with Hilde's famous honey biscuits, coffee, and cocoa," he said, announcing his presence.

"Uncle Leo, look what Aunt Esme brought me!" Anna declared as soon as he made himself known, raising up the doll in her hands happily. "Mama made her, and Aunt Esme made her lots of clothes, and she says she's for me now!"

Leo smiled, almost relieved to find Anna accepting another doll in place of Gerde, who was getting so worn out it was getting hard for Hilde to keep resewing her head back on. "If your Mama made her, she's very special indeed," he replied, as he made his way into the room and set the tray down on the table. "But she's going to need a name."

"Oooh ..." Anna hugged the doll to her chest once again, turning her eyes to Esme. "Does she got a name?"

Esme chuckled gently. "I never gave her a name," she confessed. "So you really should think of something to call her."

Anna considered this for a long moment, looking down at the yellow-haired doll in her arms. "Can I call her Amy?"

"You can call her whatever you like, sweetling," Leo assured her, as he poured two cups of cocoa into the mugs.

"What if you name her after Mama?" Matias suggested. "Papa used to call her Avy," he said, which wasn't all that different from Amy.

Leo exchanged glances with Esme, unsure whether that would be acceptable in her or Anna's eyes.

"Can I really?" Wide eyed and hopeful, Anna looked back at Esme, who laughed and kissed her hair gently.

"Of course you may, little one," she assured her niece. "She has hair like yours and your mama's, after all."

Leo exhaled a sigh, relieved that Matty's suggestion hadn't caused any anger or tears. "I think that's a fine idea," he said, though in the end it was Anna's decision. He was worried the children were so young they might forget their mother someday, especially Anna, and this was one way of helping her to remember.

"I used to talk to her all the time," Esme added, "just like I was talking to your mama. So Avy really does fit her."

Anna hugged the little doll tighter to herself, biting her lip. "T'nk you, Aunt Esme," she managed in a quiet voice. "An' Matty, 'cos of the name."

Matias smiled, glad to have pleased his sister for once and made her happy.

Leo frowned a little, saddened once again by the loss of his brother and sister-in-law, but he recovered quickly, not wanting to upset Esme or the children with his own grief. "If that's decided, the cocoa is getting cold," he reminded them.

"Oh, we has cocoa!" Abandoning Esme's lap, Anna scrambled onto her feet, turning to very carefully put the newly named Avy into her aunt's lap in her place before pattering over to the table where Leo had placed the tray.

Matias got up to join his sister at the table to enjoy the biscuits and cocoa while Leo brought a steaming cup of coffee over to Esme. "Here's what I'm famous for," he remarked as he carefully handed her the cup. "Careful, it's hot."

"Oh, I see." Reassured, Esme looked back to the children. "He isn't ....spewing," she told them. "He is very weak, and does not often get out of bed these days. But he is not sick to his stomach."

Anna tugged on her brother's sleeve. "We could make fairy biscuits, like what Mama used to."

"We would need Hilde's help," Matias pointed out, but he saw no reason why Hilde wouldn't help them, especially since they'd be making the biscuits not to eat themselves, but to make someone else happy.

"I think that's a splendid idea," Leo said, smiling in approval.

"That is a lovely plan," Esme agreed. "And I'm sure he will like them very much."

Anna beamed, nudging her brother again. "And, and, Matty can write a lettit from us, can't you?"

Matias nodded. "I can write a letter an' you can draw some pictures," he suggested further.

"Well, it sounds like we have it all sorted out then," Leo remarked. "If you are very careful, you will find paper and writing supplies in my study."

"And it does not have to be perfect today," Esme added, her smile growing at these charming plans being laid. "I will be here a while longer, after all."

Anna beamed, sneaking another biscuit off the plate to ram it into her mouth all in one go.

"Now?" Matias asked, brows arching upwards. Their uncle's study was one place that they were normally not allowed, but it seemed he was giving them permission to go there in search of paper and writing supplies this once.

"If you wish, but I seem to recall something about a walk in the garden," Leo replied, knowing there was plenty of time to pen a letter later.

"Ah, yes, I did hear something about roses," Esme agreed, happy to take the burden of an immediate letter off the boy's mind. "I wonder, young Master Kramer, if you would do me the honor of escorting me to your garden?"

Matias' eyes widened again, and he pointed to himself, as if questioning her meaning. There were two Master Kramers - the younger and the older - and he had to assume she meant him. Upon realizing she meant him, he nodded enthusiastically. "Can Anna come, too?" he asked, not wanting to live his little sister out.

"Of course she may. Do you think a gentleman is incapable of escorting more than one lady at a time?" Esme laughed gently, setting her cup aside as she moved to rise from her seat on the floor. "Perhaps the elder Master Kramer would like to test his own manners."

"It has been a long time since anyone put my manners to the test," Leo said, unsure if she was teasing him or not, but as soon as she set her cup aside, he was out of his chair and moving to help her to her feet, proving there was nothing wrong with his manners.

As for Matias, he said nothing, but shot his sister a curious glance at whatever it was that was going on between their uncle and aunt. Anna shrugged back at Matias - it was grown ups doing grown up things, that was always just a little bit boring to her.

Hands in Leo's, Esme rose onto her feet with a soft laugh, perhaps a little startled to find herself so close to him as she raised her eyes. Faint colour bloomed in her cheeks as she smiled and stepped back, hoping her gaze had not betrayed her liking for him too much, and turned to the children. "Shall we?"

Leo smiled back, noticing a faint flush rise to her cheeks, but not sure if it had anything to do with him. Still, he clung to her hands a moment longer than necessary before letting go and releasing her into the children's care, though he intended to accompany them. It had been a long time since he'd taken a walk in the garden, perhaps too long.

"Avila loved the garden," he remarked again. "She and Ernst would sometimes have picnics there," he told her. Even before the children were born.

"Oh, she would spend hours in the garden when we were children. There was nothing she liked better than getting grubby with dirt and scratched with thorns, just to make sure a flower would grow perfectly." Esme glanced down at the children with an inviting smile. "Your mama once greeted a countess in nothing but a muddy petticoat and rubber boots, because she forgot the time."

There had been no need for a gardener when Avila had been alive. Now, Leo had to pay someone to come in and pluck the weeds and prune the roses, and yet, no matter how much attention was given it, the garden never looked as lovely as it had when Avila had been tending it.

"She used to cut flowers and bring them inside. 'Member, Anna?" Matias remarked, but it was Leo who replied first.

"She'd put a vase of flowers in every room, until we ran out of vases," he said with a faint, fond chuckle.

"Mama liked being muddy and happy," Anna offered, though she didn't truly remember much. She was still young enough that the loss of her parents might be overcome in time, if she had enough love from her guardians.

"I had wondered why there were so many empty vases about the place," Esme admitted in amusement. "We shall have to see if we can make a habit of bringing one bouquet inside every few days, won't we?"

It was a fond memory of his brother's wife, one that made him smile, even as sad as he was at her loss. "It would be nice to have flowers in the house again," he said, remembering how happy the house had been in those days and wondering if they would ever feel that happy again.

Matias slipped his hand into Esme's as though to escort her into the garden, as she'd suggested.

Mirroring her brother taking Aunt Esme's hand, Anna inserted her sticky fingers into Leo's palm, looking up at him cheerfully. "Can I learn how to make the garding grow?" she asked curiously. "Like Mama did?"

"Yes, of course, you can, sweetling," Leo replied, closing his hand around hers, despite the child's sticky fingers. "Perhaps your Aunt Esme can teach you when she is here," he suggested, as he knew very little about gardening himself.

"Really?" Anna stared at the back of the lady in front of them, apparently deep in conversation with her brother. "But she's a duckess, uncle," she pointed out in a shocked voice. "She eats off fur plates and has glass shoes and keeps a birdie in her throat to sing for her."

"What?" Leo chuckled as he glanced down at his small charge, not quite understanding what it was she was trying to say. "Is that from a story Matty read you?" he asked suspiciously.

Anna nodded enthusiastically. "It was the princess in the tower, only Aunt Esme isn't a princess, she's a duckess, so maybe she doesn't have fur plates and a birdie," she jabbered happily as they passed along the halls and through the kitchen to the garden. "Can I have glass shoes" Don't they break?"

"I'm afraid glass shoes aren't very practical, and I doubt they're very comfortable either," Leo replied, though he didn't exactly deny her outright. "Isn't there something you'd like better than a pair of shoes that will hurt your feet?" he asked further.

"A pony." The answer was immediate, and very predictable. It was also an impossibility - they had nowhere to stable a horse, much less for her to learn to ride it, even if she had been big enough to try.

Beaming, Anna kissed her uncle's nose loudly, wriggling back to hold his hand. "We got to go and learn how to makes rosies growsies!"

Leo laughed as she noisily kissed his nose before moving back to his feet. "As you wish, princess," he told her, calling only one of many pet names, as he let her lead the way to re-join her brother and aunt.

Who were busily drawing tangling weeds away from one small rose bush that had brought a tearful smile to Esme's face. "Do you remember I told you that your Mama had a rose named after her?" she was saying to Matias. "This is that rose. One of the gardeners must have sent a cutting to her without us knowing."

"How can you tell?" Matias was asking, studying the roses, as if it was the most important thing in the world. Neither seemed aware that Anna and Leo had gone off on their own or that they were returning to join them.

"Because of the colour," she explained, gently tilting one of the open roses down so he could see it better. "See how it is deep, deep red at the heart and pale pink at the edges of the petals" The man who bred it wanted it to look just like that, because he said your mam had hidden depths. It's called an Avilitus rose."

"It's pretty, like Mama," Matias said, as he studied the rose, admiring the color, his heart aching at the thought that his mother would never enjoy the garden again, and suddenly he was hurtling himself forward into her arms and bursting into tears. Leo stopped in his tracks, stopping himself and Anna before the other pair knew they'd been watching. He quickly scooped the little girl up into his arms and headed for another part of the garden, allowing the boy and his aunt privacy.

Esme jumped, startled by the sudden rush and sensation of being embraced tightly about the waist by an unexpectedly sobbing small boy. She froze, though only for a moment, gently pulling his arms from about her waist to drop down onto her knees, heedless of mud and dirt on her skirt as she gathered him closer into her arms.

"Shhh, little one," she murmured, rocking him gently as tears wet her own eyes. It should have been Avila here with him, not her. If life was fair, he should never have had to know his aunt at all, because his mother would have been here.

He'd tried so hard to be brave all these months - for his uncle, for his sister, even for Hilde. He wasn't sure why it was the roses that had finally broken down the wall he'd tried to build around his heart - or maybe it wasn't the roses at all, but this caring, gentle woman who reminded him so much of his mother, even if they didn't look alike. He didn't want her to see him cry, but he just couldn't hold it inside any longer. "I miss her so much," he sobbed quietly, as he clung to her.

"Oh, my little love ..." Esme held him a little tighter, letting him cry against her shoulder for as long as he needed to. "I miss her, too, very much. We all miss her, and your papa, as well. And that is not a bad thing. It is awful that we have to live without them, but it is a wonderful thing that we have so many memories to share about them, and so much love they gave us." She stroked his hair gently. "They will never be gone, not completely, so long as we remember them and the way they touched our hearts."

Matias nodded his head against her shoulder, understanding as much as a six-year-old could. He knew his parents were gone forever, but he still had his sister and his uncle and his aunt and Hilde, and so long as he had them, he'd never be alone. Though he knew no one could ever replace his parents, it was like there was a piece of them in those they'd left behind, including himself. "What if something happens to you and Uncle Leo, like what happened to Mama and Papa?" he asked, lifting his tear-stained face to her.

"There are things we can do to make sure that if that happens, you and Anna will stay together, with people who will love you for your sake," Esme told him honestly. In the back of her mind, she was already considering writing to the king's sister. Princess Rolanda had been a friend when they were children; perhaps she would have some ideas about what to do about what was happening around the duke. "But it is very unlikely that Uncle Leo will ever be in an accident that will take him away from you," she added in a firmer tone. "I promise I will do everything I can to make sure that never happens."

He knew she was trying to make him feel better, but he was still frowning, even as she tried to assure him. He didn't want to be the king, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to be a duke either. He just wanted to be with a family who loved him; that was all he really wanted at that moment. "Will you make sure it never happens to you, too?" he asked, tearfully.

Esme bit her lip. Children asked very difficult questions. "I don't want to lie to you, Matias," she confessed softly, gently wiping his tears away with her own handkerchief. "And I don't want to make promises that I can't keep. I will do everything I can to stay in your life, but I cannot promise that I will succeed. I'm sorry."

"But ....you're my Mama's sister. No one can take you away from us! I won't let them!" he exclaimed, terrified he might lose her, too. He threw his arms around her neck again, as though he could keep her there with them so long as he hung on.

"Oh!" Startled once again, Esme fell back onto her backside with Matias in her lap, letting him cling to her all over again. Avila had always said in her letters that being honest with the children was the best thing, but she couldn't remember her sister ever mentioning that honesty lead to tears and strangulation.

"I won't let them," Matias repeated, as he clung to her, the last of his tears soaking the fabric of her shoulder.

And suddenly Leo was there to rescue her or Matias or both.

"There, now, lad, no one is taking anyone away from anywhere," he assured the boy as he pried him from Esme's neck.

Matias, in turn, clung to Leo's leg, while Leo helped Esme to her feet. While it was somewhat of a relief that the boy was finally letting some of his grief go, this wasn't quite the way Leo would have wished for it to happen.

Anna hovered behind Leo as he helped Esme back to her feet, worried eyes glancing between her brother and her aunt, uncertain if there was anything she could do to help.

Esme murmured a soft apology to Leo for upsetting the child, gently stroking her hand over Matias' hair. "No, no one will take me away," she promised, hoping it was a promise she could keep. But with so much heartache in these children, she knew she couldn't afford to waste time with her investigations. She would write to the king's sister, and perhaps there would be help at hand.

"It's all right," Leo said, crouching down and opening his arms to both Matias and Anna. He was the closest thing they had to a father now, though perhaps they had yet to realize that Esme was the closest thing they had to a mother. "It's going to be all right. I promise," he assured them both, as he took them into his embrace.

Esme watched as the children huddled into their uncle's arms, and her heart ached for them. For them, and for herself; for her sister and the man she had chosen to marry, taken from them before their time. As much as she might want justice for those deaths, what mattered was right in front of her - the happiness and well-being of two small children who had been through enough for one lifetime. She would find a way to make their lives secure, no matter the cost. She owed it to them to try.