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Nithel pressed his lips together slightly, seeing Alessio’s discomfort. He searches his mind for a dif-

“So…you don’t know your father’s name,” Nithel’s chest tightened a bit at the question, but his face stayed the same. “but you’re required to have a last name, so you call yourself ‘son of Father’?”

In all that, Alessio had sifted out his question. In all the side trails I formed none took him away from his purpose. Noy. “I know my father’s name.” Nithel answered, his voice a bit deeper than before, soft, very soft. He sees his father in his eyes, and aches in his chest for him. Nithel’s eyes were low in thought, though his chin remained upright. “I just cannot use it.” He blinked once then his eyes lifted to Alessio.

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