Lucien murmured under his breath. "A bad father?"

Considering the question in a low tone of voice...

He didn't have the answer to that question. His own father had provided him with food and board, which was more than some of the other soldiers he'd met during the Great War. While those that surrounded him at first had been mostly nobles, Lucien had seen that on a battlefield, nobility wasn't what kept you alive. It was good instincts and a strong body. Those that grew up in illustrious knight households like Icaros was would have that, but the other noble pups that came to have a taste of Azark blood? He'd seen them die like the rest of them, bits of them scattering to pieces on the ground wet with the blood of friend and foe.

That was when he'd started to gather the ones he'd seen with promise. The hardy ones, that hungered for the battle. The wily ones, that predicted the enemies' next steps. The dutiful ones, that would never give up, to protect their homes and families. Among the hardy ones especially were young men with no father or mother. Many of them were street orphans that had been abandoned by their families, like the ones Sera cared for. Those were the ones that gathered to the army recruitment tents, joining the Thornmere army to get food in their bellies and a cot to sleep upon.

Lucien's father had given him a lot more than those orphans had. And in that same manner, Lucien had provided for his own son, Leo. A beautiful cottage, delicious food, and maids to watch over him and nurture him. 

His frown grows deeper. "I don't think I'm a bad father. But neither am I a good father. As your sire, our blood connects us together."

Short. Succinct. That was the response that Lucien could come up with. But it didn't satisfy the curious young child sitting at the table.

"Bwad fwather?" He asks again this time swiveling his small head towards Sera.

Sera vehemently shakes her head at Leo's question. "If Lucien's a bad father, than I'm an even worse mother!" 

"Why mama??" Large eyes wavered at his Mama's outburst. The pure trust shining out of Leo's eyes made Sera feel sick. She'd been the one to abandon this. And this sweet boy thought she was a fairy that finally returned from fairy land because of the flowers he'd planted. Maybe she should tell him. That she'd chosen to leave.

.....was it foolish of her to try to fix this family? Had her actions destroyed the relationship until it was past repairing? Biting her lip, her fingers clutch the white tablecloth that trailed underneath the tabletop.

"I-! I-" The simple corset around her waist feels tighter than a vise, clamping around her. Breath rushing out in harsh gasps, she parted her lips to answer.

But it was Lucien that came to her rescue.

"A lesson my father did teach me" he picks up a fork to lift a round egg custard tart, placing it on a clean plate. He does the same for the bowl of salad, scooping up the greens and laying them next to the egg tart.

"Egg tarts are delicious, yes?"

"Ywes" Leo's small head bobs up and down in agreement.

"And these vegetables, not so much?"

"Ywes" Leo begins to bob his head up and down, but changes the direction of his bobbing with the sharp look Lucien sends towards his small clenched fist. He'd known when Leo had secretly wiggled to hide the veggies he'd pretended to eat in the pockets of his trousers.

"No..." Small shoulders sag as Leo admits his guilt.

"But I'm sure Bea tells you to eat lots of vegetables, and not the tart. Why?" From the corner of his eye, Lucien can see Bea's shoulders give a start at the sudden mention of her name.

Closing his eyes, Leo recites the words that he's heard so many times. "Bea say vegetabwos mwake me stwong. Twarts mwake me tummy ache and a biiig baall of bwutter." 

Lucien's lips twitch at the statement.

"Exactly. Tarts are delicious and sweet, but they can also upset the stomach. Your mother especially says that vegetables make you strong, but they are quite bitter, no? "

His fork pushes the food to the the corners of the plate. "People can be like the tart. Sweet and kind, but too much kindness can turn any person into a tyrant. Or they could be like the vegetables, somewhat off-putting or say cause you bitterness, but have your best interests at heart." Lucien grimaces when he takes a bite of the leafy greens. He didn't like vegetables either. Meat was good enough for him. Though Lucien would never admit it, he ate the greens only because Sera wanted him to.

????

Leo cocks his head in confusion.

Lucien sighs when he realizes that he'd lost his son partway through the explanation. But Sera was grateful. He'd bought her the time she needed to collect her thoughts and calm herself.

"What he means, baby, is that no one is just good or just bad. People can be mixed of good and bad, like the yummy tart that gives you a stomachache if you eat too much." Sera softly adds, shooting a look of gratefulness in Lucien's direction.

Lucien nods, sipping the last bit of tea in the cup that was dwarfed by his large hands. There wasn't much time he could spend with his family, no matter how badly he wanted to stay. Much work was left to be done concerning the nobles they'd captured last night. 

 Pressing a hand to her bruised cheek, Sera continues. "Don't worry about my cheek, honey, this doesn't hurt."

"Your father wasn't the one who did this. He was the one who saved me when the bad men where chasing me." Reaching over to clasp Lucien's hand in hers, Sera softly smiles at her son.

"If he didn't find me, I would still be out in the middle of nowhere, waiting for an ambush to come at any moment." Looking down, Sera blushes madly, her voice lowering at the confession:

"-and I love him....." The thick fingers turn to intertwine with hers, and Sera looks up to see Lucien. His eyes, blazing bright, as the happiness dances within his eyes.

"You own me, heart and soul, my Queen." Lucien murmurs, lifting her hand to his and pressing another kiss on the back. Sera scrunches her eyes at him when he takes the opportunity to secretly lick her palm. Lucien hadn't been able to resist the temptation. 'It's fine as long as no one sees, right?' His deep azure gaze seemed to say. Shrugging, he meekly lets Sera pull her hand out of his, bemused as her cheeks turn pink.

The moment between them is shattered when Leo begins to madly wiggle in his high chair, pushing at the table in front of him. "Mama, Leo go dwown!" 

"Go down, Leo? But you barely-" Sera sighs when she sees Leo start to slither out of the gap between the table and chair he'd created.

"Oh, all right." If she didn't help him, he probably would have hit himself hard on the floor.

The cowlick atop his head waves back and forth as Leo runs around the table, stopping just next to Lucien's side.

Pull. Pull.

Lucien pauses in adding more meat to Sera's plate, looking down at the tugging motion coming from the child at his side.

"Fwather"

Lucien rears back as if he'd been stung, surprised at the weight of that word coming out of his son's mouth. His heart felt shaken as the full force of the role he now had seemed to crash down upon him. 

"A-Arhehgm!" Lucien clears his throat in surprise.

"Fwather!" Once again, the high-pitched child's voice calls out.

The small boy beckoned to Lucien to lean down, grinning his pearly white teeth, a mischievous look on his face. What was this child trying to pull now?

 But no man could withstand the full force of adorable puffed baby cheeks and wide, blinking eyes. And as he was beginning to find out, Lucien was extremely weak to the cuteness of this child. Obediently, he leans down-

Pat. Pat.

A small hand ruffles against coarsely cropped red hair. "Good job! Fwather protec Mama!" 

"Erm..Thank you?" Graciously accepting the pats on his head, Lucien nods to the boy.

""Pfft!""

Both Sera and Bea do their best to hide their laughter. Sera knew exactly what Bea was seeing. A big red dog. That was what mighty warrior King Lucien looked like. An enormous dog that obediently accepted the pats from the fearless young boy before him. His blue eyes were directing their pleading gaze at Sera,  not sure what to do in this sort of situation.