Maranya Ergin-Falconne warmly smiled while she watched the small bundled up figures play in the snow outside the grounds of the Palazzo. She brushed off snow from an outcropping of rock and perched atop it for a better vantage point.

Deep in her thoughts about how much her sons had grown, she was startled out of them by a ploosh of snow to her black wool trenchcoat's shoulder. Looking around, boyish giggles rang in her ears, but she had no clue as to who was the culprit.

"You realize that this means war," Maranya smiled as she leaned down to scoop up snow with her teal wool gloved hands.

Later that evening, once the twins had been settled in for the night, the Padrona of the Palazzo relaxed on the overstuffed couch before the rustic stone hearth. Maranya smiled up at Antonio when he handed her an earthenware mug of the mulled red wine with orange slices that she favored, and adjusted the well loved patchwork quilt around them when he settled down beside her. Her dark blond haired head rested against his strong shoulder while they watched the flickering flames together.

The crackling and pops from the logs as the flames consumed them, along with the wine she enjoyed, lulled her to sleep at last beside one of her husbands. Warm, content, safe.