Alcuin didn't know when he started to chew his lip, couldn't pinpoint the exact moment his mind had wandered away from upholding his composure. This – whatever this was – was not something he had ever experienced in his previous household. It wasn't necessarily that he was unfamiliar with the notion of someone being envious or jealous of another; he had witnessed it many times on the faces of his previous master's guests and even bore the brunt of its violence on his torso. It's just that they had all been masters and mistresses who had all the time in the world to covet what little there was that wasn't theirs. It was simply their nature to want, but this...
“I do not understand,” he admitted, his heart sinking all the way to his toes at the thought of having somehow come between his master and his love. But how could he have done such a thing? It had been made clear to him the night of the festival that they shared something irreplaceable, something invaluable and timeless. Alcuin had lived with the fear of being sent back at any moment and learned to make the most of the time he had with his master, knowing full well that time was rarely in his favor. And now... “Why would you not be with him if that is what you wanted?”
The babe squirmed slightly in his arms, disturbed by the sudden shift in his mood. Alcuin glanced down at him and stroked his head to soothe the rift. “What is it that I have done to make you dislike me so?”