Fairly significant reveal about the infant son of their Hartmann hosts. Wonder where it will go? Once we get all this settled, it’s back to the fighting and politics.

Apologies for the no Wednesday post. Sick again; wife and I had food poisoning. I’ve not really slept in three days or eaten in one-and-a-half. A couple of people at DayJob echoed similar problems for them of their kids. Food quality, not to say safety, is dropping fast.

Up the stairs in a flash, Graf finished with the table as Llaura set the food out.  He called for his kids to find a place just as his wife came back, cradling the sleepy infant.  When he blinked, his eyes are very green, but at least they don’t glow like…

Pai gave a sharp shake of her head.  I’m not saying a word.

Suza wanted to hold him and was told to eat her dinner first, then there would be outside playtime for everyone.  She lunged at the table and reached for the food.

“Don’t start until your mom says prayers,” her father mildly scolded her.  With a “humpf!” she set down her fork.  “Please, Alix.”

“I guess you are taking this a bit more seriously,” she smiled at him.

I guess I should.

Short blessing over, they all dug in.  Suza demanded to watch Llaura feed Ödön as soon as she was finished.  Given how she shoveled food into her maw, that would be soon.  Still a bit curious as to what his wife meant, he tried to keep the dinner conversation light.

“You said Istvan would be home later?” he asked, taking more pork.

“Besides being a bit of a handyman and helping out everywhere around here,” Llaura began, “he’s recently been asked to advise the City Council in Chattanooga.  I know it’s a baronate and subject to the Viscount in Macon, south of here, but people hear his last name, and well, you can guess.”

“My maiden name was Mendrovovitch,” Pai laughed from the kitchen, cleaning up as there was no reason to eat.  “That would focus a lot of attention whenever it came up back home.”

“Yes.”  Their hostess paused her peach juice with a little seltzer water in it just before her mouth.  “Istvan never made a secret of his family and has told me such stories…  I guess all political families are complicated, even if you’re on the fringes, like us.”

After dinner, Pai shooed everyone into the backyard.  Llaura nursed her son while Suza watched, fascinated.  I was correct:  she’ll be a wonderful mother.  Just a matter of finding the right man before one of these political families pick a husband for her.  The only one to drink alcohol, he wandered back into the kitchen for two reasons.

“You want to know what I meant about their little boy,” Pai said without preamble, handing him a glass of the local whiskey but well watered.  “I don’t think these two know, but Ödön is demi-human.  He cannot speak yet, but we shared feeling and I some images for him.  It made him laugh.”

“He’s getting bored, even just a year old,” she sighed.  “There are no demis anywhere in this area; the wars have all of them too busy.  We can use your captured gal, Luce, but Fusions are so obvious that would attract local attention no one needs.  I’m considering recalling my Version One self from Germany to maybe act as a tutor for him, until we can figure something out.”

“And you’ve not mentioned this to Llaura, yet?” he asked.

A shake of her head, making her long, white-purple hair flutter this way and that.  “You know I still make social mistakes with you humans – just like that – and wanted to talk with you, first.”

“We cannot keep this a secret, Pai.”

“Tonight?”

“I’ll re-check with Llaura when her husband gets home.  But, yes, tonight.  I don’t think Istvan will have a problem with it; consider his family.  But we must act sooner than later, for the little boy’s sake.”  She nodded.

“Go outside and play with everyone until they’re exhausted,” she said, setting the last dried plate aside.  “I’ll handle bath duty, later.  And keep your snout out of the whiskey, Beloved Husband!”

He set the half-empty glass on the counter.  “Yes, Boss.”

“Just go play!”