Iktome Plains You asked me how long

He is a man in Sapphique, but respected. This sentence, of all of them, struck her the most. She allowed Sobo to finish and found that she agreed with the overall sentiment, though she still ruminated over the first bit foremost.

You are right. And you would be right to tell him that, if you felt you wanted to. She wouldn't deny her son the chance to speak his mind when he felt wronged by his father. She doubted Njord even realized that his children felt forgotten, and Rosalyn was curious to see what that revelation would bring about.

But the first part.

He is a man of Sapphique, and so are you. But I will tell you a secret. I would trust you over him, with anything, at any time. Rosalyn didn't like thinking that Sobo felt he was not respected. He did not need a father to aspire to when he was, on his own, more than enough in her eyes. And a part of the reason she had always mistrusted the fathers was that she felt their influence sullied their sons, drew their minds away from the lessons she and Erzulie could impart. Men did not have the fortitude that women did.

What she said was not truly a secret, but she felt it was something Sobo perhaps needed as one. Something he could hold, perhaps, to draw him closer to Sapphique and further from whatever hurt led him to avoid them.