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Cullen dried his hands and hung up the dishtowel before heading into the living room. Mo was sitting on the floor in front of his block castle that he’d been working on all day. All it lacked now was the arched entrance on the outside wall, and Mo’s face screwed up in concentration as he placed the columns.
Cullen smiled to himself. Waiting for Mo to finish, he sat down in his armchair and watched the very serious castle construction. It was different, having Mo with him for a couple weeks. When they only had a few days at a time, they tried to cram everything into them. There was rarely a chance to spend time like this.
A piece in the front wobbled, and Mo gasped. “No! Stay!” The block didn’t listen though. When Mo tried to catch it, a few other pieces tumbled to the floor. Cullen caught one from rolling under his chair with his foot as Mo’s shoulders slumped.
“It’s okay, buddy.” Cullen slid out of the chair to sit next to him on the ground.
Mo scowled at the blocks. “I was almost done!”
“I know, but that just means you get to keep building.”
Mo made a face at him then turned back to the castle. They worked in silence, Cullen carefully supporting pieces to keep them from falling when Mo put new ones into place. This time, the blocks stayed, and Mo’s tongue poked between his teeth as he slowly set the last piece to complete the arch. He hovered over it with his hands spread and eyes wide. Cullen tried to stifle his grin. “Is it done?”
Mo nodded then paused with a critical look. “Almost. It needs flags.”
“I see. Maybe we can make some flags out of paper later.” Cullen held his arm out to Mo. Mo plopped down in his lap and pressed his shoulders back against his chest, and Cullen smoothed the boy’s hair. “It looks really good. You worked hard on that.”
Mo smiled bashfully. “Can we take a picture for Mama?”
“Of course!” Cullen pulled his phone out to take a few pictures, and they picked one to send to Leili. It was important to all three of them, those little bits of connection while Leili was out of town.
Once it was sent, Cullen glanced down at him. “Can I ask a favor of you, Mo?”
Mo looked up at him, blue-grey eyes simultaneously guilty and worried. Apparently his tone hadn’t been casual enough. Cullen hugged him. “You haven’t done anything wrong, buddy. I just wanted to ask you for something, okay?
“Okay.” Mo chewed his lip and curled up a little tighter on Cullen’s lap. “What?”
Cullen took a deep breath and smoothed his son’s hair again. “I want to ask you not to speak Orlesian around Laica.”
Mo stiffened and his freckled cheeks flushed. “I haven’t,” he protested.
Cullen winced. “No, I know. I-”
“Mama says it’s fine if I speak Orlesian!” Mo’s face grew redder and his voice rose.
There had, perhaps, been a better way to approach this. Cullen forced himself to take a breath as Mo stared at him with hurt in his expression “She does,” Mo insisted, setting his jaw in a way that reminded Cullen of himself.
Cullen looked Mo firmly in the eyes. “It is fine if you speak Orlesian. I agree with Mama. I’m very proud of you for learning it so well. You know it far better than I do.”
Mo’s lips pressed together in a stubborn line. “You said I shouldn’t.”
“Only to Laica, and there is a specific reason for that.”
Mo gave him a doubtful look and said nothing.
Cullen smoothed Mo’s hair back. “A long time ago, she knew some mean people who hurt her.” Worry began to overtake the anger in Mo’s face. “And they spoke Orlesian to her. Now when she hears it, she thinks of them and it scares her.”
Mo chewed his lip then whispered. “I wouldn’t hurt her.” He curled into Cullen, frowning.
“I know you wouldn’t, and I know you wouldn’t want to upset her accidentally.”
Mo shook his head quickly.
“She doesn’t think there’s anything bad about speaking Orlesian either, buddy, but it is scary. You understand that, don’t you?”
There was a long moment of silence as Mo considered this. He rested his head against Cullen’s chest and turned one of the unused blocks in his hands. Finally, he spoke, his voice hushed, “Like how I’m scared of sirens?”
“Indeed.” He wrapped his arms tighter around Mo as the boy pressed against him, and he rubbed his back gently.
“The sirens hurt.”
“I know.”
Mo studied the block, tracing the design on the side of it while he furrowed his brow. “Da?”
“Yes, buddy?”
“Why did they hurt her?”
Cullen sighed softly and shook his head. “I…” He tried not to think of what Laica had said about the camps as he smoothed Mo’s hair, but images of children there, of Laica herself, young and terrified, crept in. Images of the Chantry’s peacekeepers refusing to conduct services in common. Of a young girl with green eyes that looked like Laica except for the nose. Of the way Laica still curled in on herself. You can’t tell anyone. Ever. It’s not safe for you to know. “I don’t think I have an answer for that.”
“They shouldn’t hurt her.” Mo frowned deeply at the block.
Cullen hugged him. “I agree.”
“You like her a lot.”
A blush crept to Cullen’s cheeks and he looked down at Mo. “I do. Do you like her?”
Mo considered then nodded emphatically. “She’s nice. She has a pretty smile.”
Cullen couldn’t help laughing at Mo’s grin. “Indeed she does. She and Sebastian should be back soon. We’ll have to see them then, won’t we?”
“Yes! And Lorn!”
“And Lorn, of course. Meanwhile, could you help me work on my Orlesian?”
Mo bounced with a grin.“Oui!” Cullen laughed, and Mo wiggled in Cullen’s lap and looked back at the castle. “Can we make flags now?”
“Of course! Come on, let’s go see what color paper we have. I think we have toothpicks too.”