Kieran held their bundled up son close as a soft snow fell. Aidan's cap covered head rested against Sylvia's shoulder, but she knew tired hazel eyes watched as the harbor lanterns were lit one by one. Images of trees, stars, the moon, or winter birds painted or cut from the treated lantern paper gave a festive glow as they hung from posts or were set out to sea. It was a tradition of ages past to beckon the return of longer days with the tiny messengers of light. It was a beautiful sight of warm glow in the harbor that spread into the darkness of the night shadowed ocean: a symbol of hope.

Townsfolk gathered to watch and participate in the growing tide of light. Some people lingered and others moved back to the Market Square where the booths offering food, fun, and crafted wares of Winter Festival waited.

"Papa," Cian looked to his father, "may we go have chocolate now?"

"Patience, Cian," Kieran replied with a grin.

"Go on, dearheart," Sylvia leaned up a kiss to his cheek. "I think Aidan and I will go take a nap, or rather, I will nap and he will go to sleep."

"Are you unwell?" Kieran asked concerned.

"I know it is early, but I think both of us are tired. Wake me when you come in so you can tell me all about what you two did." A deerskin gloved hand reached out to brush one of Cian's rosy cheeks.

The couple parted ways, Sylvia carrying Aidan even with the weariness dragging her steps. Her youngest babbled out words as he spied things he knew. "Mama, white snow." Only to be followed with, "Mama, my cold." And so on with the variety of trees, stones, people, clothing, and animals accordingly named as they passed them by all the way up to the manor door.

Miriam greeted them just inside, "Here, madam, I will take him."

Aidan went easily to his nanny's waiting arms, and Sylvia smiled her gratitude, "Thank you, Miriam."

As they walked to the family rooms, Miriam unbundled Aidan and asked Sylvia, "Will you be resting?"

"I will, though wake me if you've need."

"Does he know?"

Sylvia sighed as she drew off her cloak and cast it on the bed of her room. "I think he suspects."

"Better if you just tell him straight away," Miriam carried Aidan to his room leaving Sylvia to her thoughts.

Sylvia closed her eyes as she sat in a chair near the fireplace bright and crackling with freshly added logs. "You better get used to it now, little one," she looked at her just barely thickening middle, "I travel a lot."

But she would have to lessen the risks she took once again, for her fate now was the fate of two.