Alcuin nodded once to acknowledge her condolences and lowered his gaze to the sleeping babe in his arms. Anyone who had ever lost anything already knew there were no words in the world powerful enough to sweep away the vast emptiness of loss. It was enough that his master had accepted his love for Anafiel without complaint and seemed willing enough to listen to the slow beat of a broken heart. Alcuin knew another master would not be nearly so generous; there were, after all, plenty of jealous creatures out there who would insist that he forget, or else. Scott could have beaten him, stripped him of his legacy – of his birthright – and kept him like a caged bird if he had wanted to.
It was only fair that he acknowledge his master's love and handle her with the same gentle hands.
“You are with child,” he murmured, his eyes drifting to the hand on her stomach. By all rights, the consequences should have worried him; surely, his master would not be pleased to know that his love was carrying another man's child so soon. Instead, he felt rather like he stood in the center of a great storm. “I must admit that I do not envy your choices, miss,” he lifted his eyes to look her in the eye and smiled gently. “but I am certain you have done the best that could be done to be true to yourself and to them. Surely, they could not ask for more than that.”