An expression of vague confusion passed over his face, as if he didn't understand how she could be attempting to rationalize his father's actions. Part of him wished he could have her faith in people, in their inherent goodness, but he'd seen and done too much to have that kind of hope.
"Do not be sorry, Helena. He certainly was not." He fell silent, listening to the sound of Peter's voice in the background. "Were you close to your siblings, when you were young?" The question was sudden, but there was something - a distant yearning, perhaps - to know what it was like, to grow up loved instead of alone.