The Heartwood oh, adi, don't you know you're still number one?

There was a wicked glint in her eyes, but her joke didn't quite land. She was a little embarrassed then for making light of the matter — but of course she wouldn't have ugly children, and she was a little offended that Aditya would think this a true concern.

Perhaps she was being too harsh with him.

A breathy laugh escaped her when he began lauding their children, and she stepped into him instead of away while he went on being his stupid, annoying, insufferable self. She sniffled, thinking of her eldest son, who shared some of Aditya's stupidest and most insufferable qualities. Of Eldest, who was so much like her but still managed to remind her of Aditya all the same. Of Arya, just as poor of a fighter as his father, and of Mirza, as handsome as Aditya had been when they first met, and of little Jade who so loved the sea —

"Do you know that he's bounty hunting again?" she said of Dutch, disapproval in her tone. "And Madhu! Our princess. She's wandering loose." She jabbed a paw into his chest. "This is your blood, you know."

Dutch did this, too: his own faults could be erased from existence if it meant winning an argument.

"I just wanted it to be you," she said at last, resignation winning out over despair. "I love our babies."

I love you.