Spring arrived slowly in Alamina.
The last snow disappeared from the northern gardens first, leaving damp earth beneath the pines and enough mud for Ducky to become a recurring household problem, while the ornamental trees around the Crown Prince Palace filled with pale blossoms that Theodore found considerably more interesting than anything his parents attempted to show him indoors.
By late spring, Theo had become mobile enough to be dangerous.
Not walking.
Thankfully.
He had, however, mastered crawling with alarming speed and discovered that furniture existed primarily to help him stand.
Dean learned this one morning when he looked away long enough to answer a message from the Ministry of Education and looked back to find his son upright against the coffee table, both small hands planted firmly on the edge and an expression of enormous satisfaction on his face.
"Theodore."
Theo turned.
His eyes were gold that morning, dark hair sticking up at the crown after his nap.
