There is little in Litotes' life that he takes quarrel with. From an abandoned, hopeless King to a beloved husband and father--he had no idea he was capable of settling down. Lilt sticks by his side with a devotion he didn't know existed and their children are more treasured than they will ever know or understand.

Of course, there are complications. He occasionally finds it hard to fit within Lilt's family, simply because of his own poisonous thoughts. The lack of closure he received with Kensa sometimes comes to him nightmares and the many children he's let run rampant without his presence follow closely behind. (Somerset and Rosemary, though, he hardly let out of his sight. They're the most perfect children he's ever seen. Even their littlest grins are enough to keep him warm through an entire winter.)

Lie still wonders about when he felt so lonesome he would die, though, and might spend a night or two in the Common Lands by himself. They're often cold nights with little passing company, and they leave him wishing he'd stayed in bed with Lilt; but still, they call like some tireless siren, always ringing in the back of his head.

It is true that he has to fight long and often to believe he is worthy of safety and love, but each year eases his guilt just the tiniest bit more.

The guilt trails, though, as it always does; and Litotes sets out on a hot midafternoon to spend some time by himself. His trips away have grown less frequent, but he worries every single time that he won't be able to return. Even now, picking his way through the colorful groupings of springtime flower in the Meadow, he doesn't feel peace (and he wonders if he should turn around, save Lilt the worry and the children the trouble).

Lie sighs, long and heavy, dipping his nose to brush it absently against a periwinkle petal.