"Careful of keeping his head above water. And don't get it in his face either," Islo instructed as I held Àlvar in the small bath.

He was just happily slamming his little fists in the water, having a grand time.

"Remember to get the wash-cloth in between all his little rolls."

I snorted. "I know how to clean between rolls. I have a fair few myself, thank you very much."

My husband snorted. "Oh, I know. Just make sure the little man here is all clean. Do you need help with the diaper?"

"No, I think I've got it now."

I gently picked the little boy up from his bath and put him on the table we had gotten installed in the bathroom. I smiled back at him as he smiled up at me. He was such a cutie.

"Just gonna lift your legs now, little boy," I murmured more to myself than to him. I pulled the fabric diaper under him and fastened it with a safety-pin. "There we go. Àlvar your father is a genius," I said with so much glee.

I had struggled with a lot of things. Especially when it came with childcare. I thought I was just bad, but like everything else in life, I just had to learn. I had to give myself permission to learn too. I couldn't just wake up one day and be the very best. Despite that being another hard lesson to learn. I should've been accustomed to it by now. I wasn't very good at a whole lot of things. I just thought I'd be good at being a dad, at least.

I was trying.

"And now for the clothes," I said to the little baby and he happily kicked his legs in response.

I got one leg trapped in my hand and stuck it into the leg of his jumpsuit.

"He looks so handsome in that outfit," Islo said and put his hands on my shoulders, kissing the back of my head.

"He is such a beautiful little boy, Islo." I buttoned up the jumpsuit and then he was ready for the day. I picked him up and turned to my husband, kissing his jaw.

"And you are such a beautiful father," he murmured softly.

We emerged from the back of our apartment to the front, only to find Dreki sitting in the armchair. He looked hollowed out. Dark rings were under his eyes and his hair was longer. It was also not nicely set.

I pressed Àlvar closer to my chest, fear freezing me to the floor.

"Sit down the both of you." He nodded towards the sofa.

"Quinn," Islo whispered and put his hand on my elbow.

"You can't have him back," I said with a shivering voice. "You're not taking my son anywhere."

"Quinn, you moron, sit down."

Islo gently pulled on my arm, and I moved like in a daze. I kept a tight grip on my son and the blanket he was bundled in. It was a soft one with little dragons stitched on it.

"I'm not taking your kids, relax," Dreki said hoarsely and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I need to know everything you know. Both of you. About infiltrators in the stronghold, about the Aatskina tribe..."

"The Aatskina deals in robotics and heavy metals that they mine in their mines," Islo said. "Heavily religious bunch, very traditional. Wears a lot of tattoos. Was there anything else you wanted to know?"

Dreki smiled and leaned back, shaking his head. "Tell me their plans. Unless you don't wanna walk at all."

"We don't know anything about their plans," I said hesitantly.

"Oh really? So there are no infiltrators in this stronghold? What about the servant you've been gallivanting around with, Quinn?"

"Àbram?" I asked and frowned.

"No, the other one. And you know which one I mean."

I swallowed hard. He was talking about Barr. My mind went blank and then it just came out of me. "He's... My lover."

Both Dreki and Islo looked wide-eyed at me.

"Come again?" Dreki almost gasped.

"Uh yeah. I've uh... Had issues. Since the leg and stuff," Islo said with the weirdest expression on his face. "Pain is not uh... The biggest turn-on..."

"Right," Dreki muttered. "Right. I've heard enough. Tell me about the plans."

"Again, we don't know shit about any plans," Islo groaned. "Haven't you embarrassed us enough already? Do you want to know which position it is possible for me to have sex with my husband in, or would you like to know what the servant does for Quinn that I cannot?"

Dreki snorted and rose to his feet. "You think hiding behind vulgarities will save you every time, but it won't. Especially not when you have something so very precious. And small. And defenceless."

"Are you actually threatening an infant?" I asked, disgusted. "We don't know anything about any plans. We're under your constant surveillance. I can't even take a shit without you knowing about it. Stop taking out your frustration and failures on us." I rose to my feet too, gently patting Àlvar's back as he started fussing. "I need you to get the fuck out now. My son is hungry."

I didn't wait for him to reply. I opened the door to the apartment and found Àbram outside.

"Fetch me a bottle, will you?" I asked and smiled tightly at the servant.

"Yes, Your-... Quinn," he said, still struggling to remember to just call me Quinn. He rushed off to the kitchens and I closed the door again, turning to Dreki.

"What else do you want?"

Àlvar was fussing a lot now, softly starting to cry. In a minute he'd be screaming his head off. Dreki opened and closed his fists before he stepped up right in front of me. I didn't step down. I stood my ground, not afraid of him. I also turned my body so Àlvar was out of his reach.

"You're so lucky I need you alive," he sneered and then turned on his heel, striding out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

I sighed deeply and then looked down at my crying son. "It's okay Àlvar. No one will ever hurt you." I kissed his forehead and that seemed to soothe the boy a little.

I went back to the sofa and sat down next to Islo. "I know what you're going to say. I was not thinking clearly, and I shouldn't have blown up like that."

"Actually, Quinn, you were amazing." He moved in and kissed my cheek. "The thing about Barr? Genius. But... Are you sure you're okay with him thinking you're unfaithful?"

"I don't give a fuck about what he thinks of me." I shrugged a little.

Islo laughed. "And you just tossing him out like that? You're absolutely amazing." He rose and grabbed his cane, limping over to the door to grab the bottle from Àbram. "Thank you, Àbram." He shot him a winning smile and turned back towards me. "You always torture the poor boy," I said and took the bottle from my husband.

"Watching him get flustered over me saying his name is one of the very few amusements I get. Let me be the desired one for once."

"You are always desired," I said with the steamiest voice I could muster, looking up at him with that look that always turned him into a very obedient servant.

He smiled very widely and looked very satisfied with himself. As if he had won something. As if he didn't know how much I desired him.

My husband was a moron.