He may have been a louse, but Dominik Wiedman had been raised to always look out for family.  Liadan O Morain was not family in the strictest sense, but she was an important person in pureblood society all the same (which to his line meant an easy equivalent to such), and one to whom the Wiedmans held a personal allegiance.  She was in a rough spot, or so it would seem by the papers, Dazmond's flailing business and the talk of the town. 

The historic farm, which had been passed down through countless generations, seemed to have taken a sudden and critical hit.  Liadan, as the now main and mostly solitary proprietor of the estate, had every right to his family's resources as an established trust between them, so that their eldest son (and that would be Dominik) felt that his responsibility to the situation was pressing.  And so forgetting his egocentric laments for a day set aside for her by owl, Dominik put on his working boots and headed off to Ireland.

Maybe it was more of a blessing than he let on, to take this break from his own concerns.  He had learned from his father how to lend himself -- his resources and his physical presence -- to important figures in difficult times; essentially his job to show up, to give, and to act in whatever capacity was desired.  For family or rather relations was the key.  His gesture alone held purpose.

Was it not this very line of thought that freed him from his prison sentence?  The pureblood families would always be there for each other in a time of crisis.  If they failed to do so it would signal the failure of their society and everything that it stood for.

But Liadan o Morain was not respectable only on account of her blood; there was a whole complex web of features which made her opinion matter.  In a way she was an authority to Dominik -- the perfect pureblood matriarch in her virgin state, and a sensical businesswitch who was an important provider to their community.  Nevermind her numerical age, which was less than his, and nevermind her sex -- for every seriously cultured Wizard knows the Witch's word is always last -- but take her knowledge of the community, her knowledge of self, her careful selection of mate with an eye toward the future generation, and one would find only wisdom in her words.  And that was how Dominik Wiedman saw Liadan.

She was a much more productive member of pureblood society than he (especially seeing as how Dominik was a deject), so the least he could do for the future of his race was to sustain her efforts.  He did not come empty handed.

Dominik was now waiting in the sitting room, having been escorted in by Felda the house elf in a very mannerly way.  He looked a different man; he was well dressed and more carefully groomed than usual.  He held a small chest on which he tapped his thumb and a bouquet of yellow and orange flowers wrapped with a heavy string.

Liadan, admittedly, as surprised to receive an owl from Dominik Wiedman. They were acquaintances, as was common among herself and other purebloods within a decade of her own age. (Sadly in either direction.) The meaning of the visit, she was unsure. Liadan hoped he was not coming to have words with her over the result her own failing business had upon his sister's potions exploits. She would hope that Dazmond would have the confidence to discuss business matters herself, but you could never be sure. Liadan had a tendency to be quite an intimidating business woman- especially with those she was more familiar with. The last thing she wanted was those she was friendly with thinking they could take advantage of her.

She sat in her room, carefully pulling a brush through her hair. This was not a business meeting, so Liadan had forgone her usual tightly wound bun or some other harsh hairstyle. Besides, she had a date later that evening with Gregori. They were going to a party in Russia- she hadn't particularly wanted to go, but Gregori's whining was horrible, and it was hard to turn him down when he was set on something. He was worse than her- which was saying something.

When the house elf came to her room, tapping quietly on the door, she rested the brush on her vanity and stood. Liadan carefully smoothed her skirt and inspected herself in the mirror. Certain she looked presentable, Liadan made her way to the sitting room, Felda following behind. She smiled at Dominik, surprised at the change in his appearance. From what she knew of Wiedman, he was not the sort to scrub down and dress up for any occasion. Admittedly, the unkempt look was flattering on him- unlike many others (most notably Cinaed), but she most certainly appreciated the effort.

The flowers were a surprise, and she noted the chest he held with some interest. "It is nice of you to pay a visit. I do believe in the last couple of weeks I have had more visitors than in the last few years. Perhaps tragedy does a lady some favors..." Liadan's attention was diverted momentarily as she saw Felda approaching with a tray of refreshments. Her house elves really were a notch above the rest. "Thank you, Felda. Mr. Wiedman and I would like some privacy." The elf bowed out, closing the doors to the sitting room behind her.

"You look quite handsome today. You needn't have gone to such an effort just for me, though." Liadan reached out to take the exquisite bouquet from him. The smile was genuine, but the words were not. Had he come in looking like a bum, she would be far less impressed with him. And her elves would likely have been less polite. They had learned how judgmental their mistress was, and had taken on the trait themselves. "Beautiful flowers. Who helped you pick out such a nice arrangement? Was it Dazmond?"

He returned her smile from his slightly hunched-over posture on the edge of the couch in his dark, dressy robes.  After a moment he stood, bowing his head in a bit of a doggish nod.  Where was he when things weren't falling apart?  Well, he was... falling apart.  And for no good reason -- other than the rather admonishable fact that when things weren't dire, the pureblooded had a way of being entirely self-serving.  Melodramatic even in their own personal soap operas.  It took a tragedy to knock them out of it -- or a war.  Dominik was a soldier who had lost the war, not served any honorable time, and now had nothing to fight for.  Coming to help Liadán was the first reasonable thing he had done all year (and we're not talking since the first).

Dominik watched the House Elf with some interest, managing a very bashfully quiet 'thank you' with eyes averted as she made comment on his appearance.  It was really not often that he tried to be presentable.  He knew how well the unkempt look suited him.  He was an animal.  Playing the part of a gentleman.

"I managed myself," he said, extending the flowers for her to take and looking a little amused at her insinuation.  It was a reasonable one to make, one that most people would share.  Who would have taken Dominik Wiedman for a man who had an eye for flower arrangements?  In the media he hardly said more than an angry grunt before starting a dirty fight with some clean-cut nancy in the middle of an interview.  On the streets he skulked through town with his hands plunged in his pockets and dark circles ringing his hard eyes, black cloak sweeping the air behind him in a cloud of cigarette smoke.  To think that he spent his spare time in front of the fire with oil pigments, or an afternoon picking flowers from his mother's garden, was a little far-fetched. 

But, it was the truth.

"Dazmond does extend her condolences, though," he said.  "She's rather busy as well, or I'm sure she'd have paid a visit.  You look lovely, Liadán."  She really did.  She was no Niobe Thursby, but then, only Niobe Thursby was Niobe Thursby.  Dominik extended the small oak chest.  It was a box of very fine quality, carved by blind monks and bestowing a magical radiance.

"This is also for you," he said, setting the red chest down on the table pointedly.  "I won't take a no for this, alright?  It's a key that opens up a Gringott's vault."  He shrugged.  "I've got more money from this trick job than I know what to do with.  I'd like nothing better than to put it to a good cause.  I've put in a good chunk of change.  I mean I know you aren't necessarily in need of money, but all the more helps in a time of crisis."  He paused, curious over his own choice in wording.  "What exactly is going on here, Liadán?" he asked lightly, his voice dropping.  "Have you discovered the reason for the sickness?"

"I'm glad somebody thinks so," was her response to his compliment. Liadan knew she was a pretty woman, but often felt she didn't hear it quite as much as she would look. "I suppose we sit here in my drafty estate and just look lovely together then, without the public to see. I'm sure that wizard society would be properly scandalized to find you clean shaven, toting pretty flowers and marvelously carved oaken chests. Best to keep it private. I promise, your secret is safe with me."

"I feel awful for your sister, I wish there was something I could do to make it up to her. I know this has to put a dent in her business. I should send her an owl, and see if there is anything I can do for her. I know some other suppliers I could put her in contact with. I've had to do so for some of my other clients." Liadan paused to offer a disappointed sigh. "Having to willingly give all my business away," she told him with a fleeting gesture of her fingers. "Such a pitiful state, but it's only fair really. Hopefully they will remember it in the future, and come back when everything is set right."

The box that he presented her with was surprising, especially when he told her what was inside. It offended every aspect of her pride that he would dare to come into her home and offer her a vault of money. Liadan's smile obviously faltered as she took the box from him. "I appreciate the gesture, Mr. Wiedman, but I am hardly destitute. We have more than enough money to build things back up." But there was probably no use in fighting him. Attempting to give the key back to him now would certainly end in a back and forth argument. "Though I suppose you would be equally offended were I refuse the offer, just as I am offended to accept it. For now, we'll leave it be, hm?" she suggested, resting the box on a table.

Dominik's following question, though, was not unexpected. Liadan sat down quite abruptly, and shrugged, pouring a glass of wine from the tray that the elf had brought in moments before. (It seemed she was drinking more and more lately to handle the stress.) "Oh, I haven't a clue what is going on here! The ministry has been in and out doing investigations, I've had friends of the family come along and take a look at things, Mr. Grimm- a dear friend of mine who knows more about obscure matters- is supposed to come and have a look around soon. It was as though everything was fine one day, and I woke up the next and it was all falling apart around me. The hippogriffs, the thestrals, the unicorns, the... everything really. There are so few surviving, and it isn't time for most to breed, and I'm afraid to supplement the herds lest anything I bring in fall ill again."

"It is what it is I suppose. Such a business cannot go without setbacks. We have been lucky not to suffer such an even thus far. There should have been a plan for it... Though when I was younger, father supplemented everything with the money he made from breeding dragons. There is much money to be had in dragon eggs and dragon hides. Quite a dangerous, and not to mention illegal endeavor."

"It comes with the territory, or that is what I have been told. I have no doubt we'll discover it soon enough, and set things right quickly thereafter. It might take a few more years to get back up to where we were before this happened, but I've discovered that running this business is nothing but trouble. Hopefully I'll be married soon and be able to pass this nonsense off to someone more fit for handling it. I've seriously considered hiring someone to run everything for me, so that I could enjoy my youth. But the time isn't right for that. Some things need a personal touch, and I doubt anyone other than myself could meet my standards. Wouldn't you agree?"

Dominik did not seem at all put out by her response to the key.  He did remember her being one of the most prideful people he had ever encountered.  But he only shrugged.  "Consider it an investment perhaps," he said, scratching at the back of his head.  Dominik lived very sparsely.  The money he made from Quidditch always went back into the community in some form or another; that was a term of his 'parole' deal.  "But," he conceded, "If you really must insist in turning it down, I promise not to break down into a puddle of tears."  His lips twitched in the direction of a smile as he shrugged again.

Dominik was surprised, however, when she abruptly fell into her seat and started pouring herself a glass of wine, which marked the first instant that he saw the wine in the room at all.  It was early for that; not that the time of day had ever stopped Dominik before, but it did do something to change the tone of their little visit.  Liadán was inviting him to loosen his tie, so to speak. 

Dom sat down across from her carefully, his posture less than perfect, and listened intently to what she was saying about the farm.  He looked pensive, concerned as he listened on, and at some points marginally surprised.

"Of course," said Dominik pragmatically as she finished.  "I should think you'd know better than anyone how this business should be run.  I ... wasn't aware you were looking to do less."  He couldn't help himself; his eyes settled on her belly.  Was there a life-form growing in there?  That's what people were saying, although he didn't really have a reason to think she wasn't still a virgin.  Her girlish figure didn't even seem capable of bearing a child.  But maybe it was true.  Why else would she be shopping for baby carriages and such?

Dominik liked to pretend that he was oblivious to the gossip that plagued Wizarding society, but the truth of the matter was that he was rather caught up in it.  He had ears like a German Shepard.  A German Shepard that was on something, and very paranoid.

"Still, you know, I'd like to help you out," he said congenially.  "I don't know about dragon eggs but, I do follow directions well, when I put my mind to it.  If there's any sort of grunt work I can do?  I could use something to take my mind off of... things."

Things.  Those damnable things.  Things like giving Niobe 'spaaaaace' for three measly days before finding her at a party and then back in his bed, sleeping all worn out and beautiful-like with her dready hair all wild and warm.  It was driving him mad to not drop by her flat, to not stand across the street at night staring at the sarongs in her window, to just sit back and go along for the ride, answering her beck and call and not begging for what he really wanted most of all from her.  Romance.  Bugger it, he did need a good distraction, didn't he.

Liadan made a face at him when he promised not to break into a puddle of tears. "And deny me the chance to gossip later about your dramatics? What a horribly rude thing to do!" she jested. "No, I will accept it. I'll figure out my own way to make it up to you in the future, Mr. Wiedman. It is important for our families to stick together, and I should hate to offend the wrong person by not accepting such a gesture." Even if it did not offend Dominik, it could offend his family or others in the pureblood community. You did not turn down help when it was offered- it was far too important for families to remain indebted to each other. It was hard to do that if you refused charity.

"Not looking to do less," she told him, "I just wouldn't be dissappointed if it happened. You and I both know that a woamn's role in our world is not to run a business. It is to get married and start having children as soon as possible." Liadan noticed the way his eyes dropped to her medsection and she fidgeted uncomfortably, crossing her arms. "Though the exercise is no doubt good for me," she commented somewhat irritably. "I have been gaining weight lately. My girlfriends refuse to let me diet to lose it- they say it is unhealthy, and if anything I ought to be gaining. I think they are ridiculous. If I gain too much, I'll stay round forever. I'll not put myself in a position where I can't get my figure back."

Liadan was surprised when he mentioned something along the lines of grunt work. She arched a curious eyebrow, wondering exactly what he meant. Take his mind off of things? What things could he possibly have to worry about? "Come now, Mr. Wiedman, you don't need a part time job shovelling animal pens! You're a big quidditch star, aren't you? Out there making money entertaining the masses."

Not that she agreed with it. Liadan found quidditch to be a brutish and most inappropriate sport- especially for well bred men. "You and Mr. Forrester are the most curious gentlemen... Of all the things you could be doing with your lives, and all of the opportunities presented to thoes of us born in our unique positions, you instead choose to ride brooms and chase balls through the air. Really, Mr. Wiedman, don't you think you're a bit too old to still be playing? Just as I said to Mr. Forrester, there comes a point in everybody's life when it is time to be an adult and live up to their obligations!"

"I'm not saying you've got to get married and start producing heirs right away- but really you ought to give it some consideration. Propogating the earth with proper pedigrees should be a priority for any pureblooded individual." Yes, Liadan was often too free with her opinions. "Surely there is some pretty little woman in your life. If not, then you must allow me to play matchmaker! I'm sure between myself, Lotte, and Melanthe we know at least one appropriate young lady for you... You need somebody young and easy to mold into the proper woman for you. I don't imagine you to be the sort to marry a strong female- I do not think you would deal with being told what to do on a daily basis." It was intended to be a compliment, whether or not it came off as such she was unsure.

Dominik hesitated; a woman talking of her weight seemed an ample trap for him.  No matter what he said, it was liable to appear offensive.  He of course thought that she was being crazy.  Liadan looked great, and not pregnant at all.  Slim, in fact.  Though Dominik was drawn to women who were more full, their bodies more... matured, he couldn't see anything wrong with Lia's frame.  "You do look fit to me," he said carefully.  "For what it's worth."

She mercifully changed the topic of conversation, but not to anything that was any less uncomfortable.  Was he too old to be playing Quidditch?  It wasn't exactly like he had the option... not yet anyway.  His contract would in fact be coming up for review this year, but he still had some time to avoid thinking about that. 

"Well...," Dominik made a motion, then paused and looked at her strangely.  Grunt work, Quidditch, it all seemed the same to him in a way.  They were activities which allowed him to simply go through the motions, exhausting his body and allowing him to forget his troubles.  But there was that difference, the glamor bestowed upon the player of Quidditch and the ferocity which framed his brand of entertainment.  Really he just wanted to work his body to death, so that he could be taken care of and sleep for days.  It all sounded childish when framed in that light, but he'd have thought he lost his sense of childhood a long time ago.

And then there was that word, obligations, and talk of heirs and women.  He leaned forward to pour himself a glass of wine immediately.

"There's someone," said Dominik dodgily.  He smiled in appreciation, but the thought of being matched up was as frightening as it was repulsive.  Dominik was madly in love with Niobe Thursby, so that even a completely perfect woman wouldn't have had any effect on him at all.  Niobe Thursby was his choice, and she was a rather unlikely choice.  Not pure of blood, and not thinking about babies.  Or marriage.  Or Dominik.  But, she was the one.  The exact opposite of what Liadan had just described.  Not only did she frequently tell him what to do, Niobe was also four years and eight months older than him.

"I um, apologize to steal the opportunity for a matching but, I'm quite taken as a matter of fact."  Dom drank deeply from his wine glass and pressed on quickly.  "And you.  You must have a number of proposals -- are any of them, um... looking good?"

"I appreciate your vote of confidence, but it's only right for you to refrain from criticizing my weight. I'm sure you were raised better than that." She knew she was getting fat, whether he knew it or not. She used to weigh less than a hundred pounds. Not anymore. That was the whole problem. (And naturally, Liadan was still blaming Christian for influx in weight.)

There was someone? Liadan arched her eyebrow curiously. That was news to her. Last she heard, Dominik had yet to truly settle down. Though that left the question of exactly which young lady had finally caught his eye. He was a handsome man, and she supposed that his personality wasn't as bad as some others in their society. "Taken, are you?" she repeated, leaning forward slightly, eager for any piece of gossip she could pass on to Melanthe or Charlotte. "Well that is certainly news to me, Mr. Wiedman! I'm certain she is a lucky young lady. Tell me, is it anybody that I know personally?"  It was the nice way to ask exactly who she was.

But he quickly turned the question back on her, mentioning her proposals and asking if any of them seemed promising. She made a dismissive gesture with her hand and sipped her wine. "Come now, you surely don't care to hear of my proposals- how few or many there are. Things haven't changed much in that department." Not publicly, anyway. But she could hardly discuss her fondness for Christian with Dominik.

"I'm attending a party with Mr. Morozov this evening. Though I do believe I have decided to break off that relationship. He's hardly the marrying sort. His eyes tend to roam too much for my tastes. I'll not sugar coat things- I'm well aware how marriages work in our world, but if a man must find his entertainment elsewhere, I would prefer one who can do so without my knowing about it."

"But I'm young yet- and I've other promising men on the horizon. It's just difficult to find any who actually behave as a gentleman ought to behave. And that is all I have to say on that matter." Better to keep any further details to herself. And refrain from boring her guest. The last thing Dominik probably wanted was to talk romance with a woman like herself. No doubt their opinions on proper courtships differed. Few people agreed with Liadan anymore.

She poured another glass of wine flipped her hair over her shoulder, giving Dominik an encouraging smile. "Tell me about this woman you're so taken with! Is she very pretty?"

He could see the glow of gossip in her eyes as Liadan leaned in, hand wrapping round her wine glass as she peered into him like a genie awaiting a wish to exact.  Dominik fidgeted.  It had only just occurred to him how doomed he and Niobe were.  Never mind the fact that she didn't even like him -- he was sure their love was real despite her frequent reminders that he was not her boyfriend -- but her being less than pure-blooded would make their little dready, scruffy children illegitimate.  He was the only son, the name-bearer of the family, and marrying a half-blood would make a traitor out of Dominik much more than it did of Dazmond.  Never mind that the thought of Niobe and him getting married was ridiculous in and of itself -- Dom didn't see that.  To him the marriage and the children seemed as inevitable as his next breath.  If he didn't think she'd have hexed him on the spot, he would have asked her to marry him weeks ago.

"Humm," said Dominik, tilting his head and trying to have some level of premeditation to his next words.  "She... she's beautiful, yes," he started.  "Beautiful and strong, and quite smart.  She's Irish, in fact.  Fiery and wild, and damn proud of who she is, what she does."  Despite himself Dominik was smiling, and quite happy to gush his feelings for Niobe to anyone who would listen.  Suddenly though, he seemed to snap out of it.  "Ahh, but, for various reasons she -- we -- we're keeping our relations secret, for a time, to avoid a commotion with the press, so I hope you'll forgive me for not saying who she is just now.  I don't think you know her, though.  You may know who she is...."  In case he was intriguing her all the more, Dom shrugged and made it into No Big Deal.  "We're still testing the waters," he said.  "I haven't made a proposal, but I see your point with all of that.  I'm certainly not getting any younger."  He thought on that, having pensive-face for a moment as he sipped his wine.

Proposals.  Sometimes Dom thought that it was amazing that he hadn't married yet, with all of the pure-blooded women in his life jumping down his throat about it.  His mother was constantly reminding him how she'd stay on Earth as a ghost to torment him for the rest of his life if he didn't give her grandchildren.  Every time he went home she asked about the women in his life.  Rocio had seemed a likely candidate, and had actually been able to put up with Dominik's tantrums and aggressive tendencies, but in the end even she couldn't deal with his smothering affections, and the widow broke free.

Things had gotten interesting in pure-bred society in recent generations.  Traditions weren't always kept, rules weren't always followed.  But producing more pure-bred Witches and Wizards was everyone's wish, it had to be; reproduction was the primary method of survival, and was particularly important for individuals in a minority who had any sort of pride in their ancestry.  Dominik did believe this, he did want to have pure-blooded children, to continue his family lineage and let his seeds sprout in fertile Wiedman-tilled soils, it would be the most precious gift of all....  But there was the road block of Niobe's pretty face in the hailstorm of his mind.  With all of her little imperfections, she was beauty blinding and unsurpassed.  Even though Dominik knew it was wrong, he couldn't see beyond her, and he couldn't close the gap between what should be and what was.  He only had his base instincts, and those told him that he needed her.

With all of the confusion skirting the contents of his mind, and with Liadan's talk of roaming eyes, Dom briefly flashed to a future where he had Niobe as his mistress, and a little faceless pure-bred Witch in a window with pie.  His brow dropped pensively as he was taken by the image.  He didn't agree with it.  He also sensed that this was another of those things that he shouldn't comment upon in Lia's presence.  She did seem to have the world cut out and analyzed piece for piece; no use messing with that now.

"Well," he said.  "Never mind me.  You have ample opportunity as you've said before.  No need to rush things," unless you're pregnant.  He cleared his throat.  It seemed his offer to help on the farm was more or less scoffed out of existence for the moment, but Dominik had to admit that the turn of the conversation was at least intriguing.  He hadn't had many chances to catch Liadan in a longer chat, and he was quite enjoying himself somehow, even with the strange topics and sudden realizations arising.  Maybe he was just so excited to have attention turned onto his secret pseudo-romance with Niobe that he'd talk till nightfall.  He finished his glass of wine and poured another.

"I sometimes think that it's all too late," said Dominik suddenly.  "But then I may be forced into a more sedentary lifestyle once my contract renewal is rejected in August.  I think I've assured that much.  Do you believe in love, Liadan?"

All of what Dominik had said was wiped from Liadan's immediate memory as he asked her quite the dangerous question. Do you believe in love?. She choked on her wine and blinked at him, giving an incredulous look. What kind of a question was that? Liadan coughed and took a few moments to gather her thoughts, still staring at him like he had six heads, as she decided the best way to answer such a question.

"I do not believe that most pureblood men and women will ever experience love. With most marriages and relationships, the best that can be hoped for is mutual respect and a genuine liking of one another. Love is for those who have no heritage to preserve and no reputation to uphold."

She folded her hands primly in her lap, examining Dominik, attempting to decide what level of honesty to adopt with him. Liadan finally sighed heavily, and refilled her own glass yet again. "Dominik, I am going to attempt an extreme level of honesty here- and I hope you will not find yourself offended. I also warn you, that should you repeat a single word of what I am about to say and if I find out about it, then I will not hesitate to use you as a test subject for my recent ventures into voodoo rituals, are we understood?"

"I believe that the closest thing most purebloods will ever come to love is what they have in their extra-marital affairs. My father had them, my mother had them- it was not discussed, but it was a known fact. Most functioning pureblood couples have somebody on the outside to care about."

"I believe that it is quite unfortunate that most pureblood couples do not truly love one another. I believe that it exists- but I believe finding it is not something that most people have the luck for. And it seems to be quite the fad these days for people of our type to fall in love with halfbloods. Charlotte is in love with Felix Marren- or I would assume, no self-respecting pureblood would ruin their reputations with a halfblood otherwise."

Liadan trailed off again, pursing her lips thoughfully as she considered Christian. If Charlotte could be brave enough to take a halfblood public, she should be that brave as well. "I think that some of us have more freedom than others. I have no family name to preserve," she told him. "I cannot carry on a family name. My mother and my father are both dead. My closest relatives live in France and I only associate with them on a societal level. More than most, I have the capability to fall in love- and to do so without reservations and restrictions."

"Cinaed Tawse has told me in the past that maintaining purity should be less of a goal. That as long as witches and wizards marry and reproduce with other witches and wizards, all should be satisfied. The pool of purity is ever shrinking, and it is becoming more and more difficult to find someone you are not closely related to. I am related to most families in our society, and most in France- and quite closely. The Morozovs are even somewhere on the tree from distant relatives..."

"I am not saying I agree with him, but I am saying that what he believes makes some sense." Even if it was only because she was looking for a loophole in her own beliefs because of her feelings for Christian. "I often wonder what good it would do me to marry someone I did not care for, when it would serve no real purpose for my family or my family name. It dies with me." Naturally Declan was excluded, as he had been burned from the family tree. "Why pass my business off to another pureblood family if they do not deserve it? Nobody would care for it the same way, because it isn't theirs."

Liadan paused for a few moments to nurse her wine some more. She had spoken more frankly with him than she had with many others in her past. The question he posed called for it. And Liadan was also the master of talking in circles without saying very much at all. "I have never been in love," she finally conceded. "But I have cared very deeply for someone in a way I never thought I would be lucky enough to. If love is stronger than that, then I can only imagine that it would overcome all of our beliefs and traditions. It sounds silly, and perhaps it is a feminine notion..."

"Why do you ask?" she finally countered. "Do you believe in love?"