Cian supposed it wasn't the baby's fault. His mum left just as the games of Harvest Festival were getting started. That was sore enough, but to have Master Corinsson not even be there? That was just wrong. In Cian's very short term of memory, not yet five years of age and the memory no more than an impressive two years back, there was never a time when Master Corinsson was not a part of the Harvest Festival games.

Avery was eager to see the baby, too, which made no sense to Cian. Babies were noisy, smelly things. He knew. He did not remember Aidan's arrival so much, but he sure remembers Beata's. A glance over to his baby sister who was standing at the knees of Miriam brought a frown to his face as if she were the culmination of all babyhood and what problems they caused.

Problems like souring Harvest Festival games.

This disgruntled behavior did not last long after Avery's departure. Aunt Lyana and Keefe made things better. They helped him keep track of who all was in the competition, Keefe focused a great deal on family, and his Aunt Lyana on their skill. In the end, when Beata squealed in glee at the smashing and clashing of swords and shields, Cian decided that his little sister was not so bad afterall, and even had his brother on his right and his sister on his left when he presented the champion with his sword of victory. It did not matter the adults had to help each of them, Cian had presented the sword for the first time ever and he was afire with the thrill of it.

Mum missed it though, but she missed so little usually. So, at dinner time, he promptly announced, "It's okay you could not stay at the games, Mum."

"Oh, well," Sylvia smiled, "thank you, Cian. That is very considerate of you."

Cian was not sure his mother was taking this issue as seriously as he had expected. "You are the Baroness, and it wasn't like you've not seen a baby before. You had three of us." He felt obligated to remind her.

"Yes, Cian, thank you. I am quite aware of that, but," and the tone she used on that word 'but' was an alarm bell that sounded off lesson time, "Storm is our guest, a foreign guest, the wife of Master Corinsson, and, in manner, a dignitary representing her people in our country. Seeing to her well being in such a trying time is to our advantage and," here it came, "the kind and right thing to do for our friend. Would you not agree?"

When she put it that way, there was no sense in trying to disagree, even if he wanted to do so. The remainder of his food became his audience for his grievances and his absolution at their failure to meet his expectations.

His mum took some notice of this as Beata and Aidan finished up their meals more quickly than he. His siblings were already bundled off to the nursery for playing before they were to get ready for bed. "Cian?"

"Yes, mum?" he looked up while he mashed another pea with the tines of his fork.

"What are you doing?"

"The pea went to prison."

One of her black brows rose. She seemed very amused by the idea. "I suppose it was sent there because of its taste?"

A warm smile and the flood of laughter bubbled out. He loved it when his mother guessed just what he was thinking. "Yes!"

She rolled her eyes and stood, moving to pull back his chair. "Go on with you now. I will rescue the remaining three of your vegetables. Give them your forgiveness before I send them off to be eaten by the dog."

"He won't eat them." Cian scoffed at the silliness of his mother. Dog's were smarter than that.

Sylvia just shook her head and continued, "Only two stories tonight and I will be there soon enough."

Hopping off his chair as if a firecracker were planted beneath him, Cian scampered for his room. There was a good night of tales ahead of him if he could just manage to convince her for one more. He always did, and the thought made him smile.

Cian peaked around the corner of the study to where he expected to find his mother sitting behind her desk working. She did a lot of reading and writing. He knew that was coming to him. That would be what he did with his days. Reading messages and replying to them. It scared him a little. Lord Keefe could keep it all straight in his mind. His mother kept it all straight. Cian still had trouble remembering which holding was where, much less who owned it and for how long and who they were tied to by blood or marriage.

There were some things though he had come to realize and that was people in Yransea did not celebrate birthdays. That was the custom. Most did not even know when they were born unless they were noble birth. He was going to be six this year. He already sat on council with Lord Keefe and listened to them talk even if he could not comprehend it all. But, that didn't mean he couldn't make some decisions himself.

Only, he just didn't know how to say it. Walking into the room slowly, he lifted his head and tried to look like Lord Keefe does when he has something contrary to the council wishes to speak about. His mother must have noticed, for when she glanced up to him her smile went from open and welcoming to a little...not.

She set her pen down and folded her fingers. She was being quite serious. That was good. "Afternoon, Cian. What brings you from your studies?"

"Mum," he began but could not look at her eyes. Her chin would do for his attention, or maybe her folded hands. The folded hands looked good, so he did the same on the opposite side of her desk. "Mum, I have decided not to celebrate my birthday this year."

There it was. And there was nothing in reply for a good long time. Cian almost added that unless she really wanted him to when she spoke. "And what brought this about?"

Reasons. His mother was all about reasons. "Just because."

Her laugh was not the merry notes when she was truly amused or happy. It was more like a cough with a sad smile. "I would prefer more than that, Cian. I get to use that term, and I use it sparingly, but I would prefer to hear your reasons. I am sure you have them."

He did have them, but he did not want to repeat them. He did not want to say things he had heard the council saying about how far their traditions had drifted, how close it came to his mother being executed for treason, or how much he missed his father of a sudden in quiet nights. Particularly not that last one because he didn't know why, and he suspected she would want to know the reasons for that as well.

His fingers began to twist about themselves, and he glanced up to those violet eyes and back to his fingers. "Well, people in Yransea don't celebrate birthdays. Father did not that I remember and so Aunt Lyana says. She does not either. You don't even know when your birthday is." He glanced up again and felt all icy cold inside. He had not meant to make his mother go so very pale. All the pinky rose was out of her cheeks. "Mum?"

The rose came back in full bloom, but it didn't look the same. She looked uncomfortable like some pin was sticking in her back. "You have very good points, Cian, but I thought you enjoyed having a party for your friends and family. I even asked your Uncle Lucky if he might make it this year."

He felt his shoulders coming up to his ears, wanting to sink down into, well the floor if he could. "He isn't really my Uncle though. My real uncles don't celebrate their birthdays, and one of them's a King."

Now he felt really sick, because that paleness came and went once more from his mother's face. "I am sorry you don't feel your Uncle Lucky is a real uncle. I feel he is a real brother to me."

"Don't you have any real brothers?" Cian had never heard his mother speak about if she had any family herself. He always thought she just didn't, but then she didn't know when she was born, and she always just said she came from up north of Rhydin. Lots of things were up north of Rhydin.

"I have Lucien Mallorek as my brother, Cian, and if you are not interested in having a birthday party then that is fine. It is your choice. Now," she picked up her pen and began writing once more, "I think you should return to your studies, please, before your riding lessons."

His mother hadn't sounded mad, and he had heard her mad before. She wasn't crying either. In fact, he couldn't say just what his mother was, only she wasn't happy.

"Come little lord, run!" Vetras jogged backwards through the maze of the garden. Cian felt his face burning. He felt sticky and yulky. He wanted to just jump in the fountain. Mum would scold him if he did though and say he disturbed the fish. Cold bath then. Ice cold. Winter was sounding really good.

"Move your whole leg."

That did it. Cian stopped entirely and dropped to roll on the warm, earthy smelling grass. He rolled until he went under one of the honeysuckle bushes. He knew he could not hide from Vetras, but it was cooler under there and he could pull the centers of the honeysuckle flowers out and taste the sweet honey flavor.

A little bug went crawling its way across the ground near the trunk of the bush. Cian leaned forward on his forearms to watch it more closely.

"What did you find, young master?" Vetras whispered at his side.

Cian did not know when he got there. He had not heard him at all. But there were branches and leaves all around him. Surely one of them had made a sound. "How did you do that?" Bug forgotten for the moment.

"What is that?"

With a huff, Cian frowned. "Get here without making a noise. I didn't hear you at all."

"You were intent on your little friend."

"Master Fraiser tried to teach my brother and I how to walk really quiet, but you came through leaves." A poke to one of the leaves made his point. It jiggled and through it others shook a little, making a whisper of noise. "How'd you do that?"

Vetras crawled back on his belly out from beneath the bush, making noise the entire way. Cian was certain he was doing it on purpose. Shoving the branches out of the way, sending a scatter of honeysuckle blossoms all around the ground. "I want to know. I'm baron. You have to tell me."

"He has to tell you what, Cian?" Mum stood at the edge of the path. Her lips were pressed so that he could see white around the edges. She was mad or worried. But she was looking at Vetras. She was on his side.

That made things better. So there. Mum will make the man tell him. "I want to know how he got under the bush without making a sound."

The sighing smile was not supposed to happen. "Cian, Vetras has many skills. In time you will learn some of them, but not now. Now you need to come inside and clean up. The barons have arrived."

More talking. More treaties. More sore bottoms. He shuffled along and looked over his shoulder. Vetras followed and smiled.