"I do not feel that this is like the last time." The crone nodded slightly. She watched his fingers, shifting a little with a shiver here or there. She knew that Eric was experiencing something he rarely felt - being wrong. He probably had fewer bad calls in his long life than most, but he was not perfect. Thankfully he did not go into a full tilt rage when it happened.
"You can be jealous, and I don't believe I would mind knowing that you were, for a short time." Her hand lifted to touch his chin. "It is not about being with him or Pam, or the chicken seller around the corner, that will bring happiness. I can and will survive no matter what this child of a city throws at me. You and he, and your Progeny, will as well. I want to know...do I become his wife, or will he keep me on out of some debt or feeling of respect?
"I am unsure of the first, and I do not require the second. I expect him to look after your Pamela, as I expect you to see to his John." She had learned the other son's name. "Though I do not believe that both Pams or any of the other pairings will remain. So, you may lose your Pam. I am sorry for this." Her hand slid to his cheek, cupping it.
"Amusing that you would not be jealous of my being with him, but you have enjoyed time with him without me. I know he is not you; should I feel jealousy?" She was teasing him now. Oddly, she didn't feel at all ignored, forgotten, or replaced. She believed she would probably do the same if she found herself face to face with another Baba Yaga, and then she would kill the old witch. There would be only one of her; she would be sorely disappointed if the other didn't attempt the same in return.
"Tell me what you wish, Eric of the North. We will make the decision together, yes?"