Funeral of Hearts

Nairn's mouth felt dry, like he had swallowed cotton, when the boy told him his mother's name. And where she'd worked. He cleared his throat, quietly. I did know her. He'd known her very well, and he knew she'd never had more than one child. She'd been a sickly woman, and the fact she could conceive in the first place had been a surprise. Which was just one of many reasons that Nairn hadn't insisted she terminate the pregnancy. She'd been so excited to be a mother...

We were close friends, he murmured. He was distractedly watching Haulean open the package from his mother, sharp eyes caught the ring that clattered to the floor before the boy snatched it up. He'd discarded the papers, and Nairn leaned to thumb through the letters addressed to him with a name he no longer used, and others addressed from him under that same name.

He'd never loved Leilani, not romantically. But he had loved her as a friend, as a confidante. How many nights had he visited with her after taking Megara out on dates, to gush to her about the woman he loved...? It'd been so long ago, now. She'd never judged him, never laughed at him for stammering or stuttering.

He'd never slept with her, not after he started courting Megara seriously. But he'd been unable to give up that friendship, especially feeling responsible for the child they had sired together.

She hadn't even told him it'd been a boy. The child was kept a secret, as if it didn't exist, save for the coin he'd give her each time they met. A secret from his enemies, and no-one would ever be the wiser.

Except now.

Nairn sat just behind Haulean, pursing his lips. She and I grew up together. He finally stated, as if that would absolve him of everything in front of him; make it any less real. Surely she'd never used his alias in her letters to the boy—

Used to run the streets together. Both of us, from families with too many mouths to feed.