[ The boy nods, all too-serious focus, hands resting atop his knees rather than touch the counter on either side, shoulders and back straight. His eyes are glancing at the cheese slices with something that looks like uncertainty.

(Orange. Why are they orange? Cheese isn't orange, not that orange.) ]

I'm going to be the next Alexander. Mama says a ruler must have complete mastery over all subjects, so I study a lot of things. Weaponry, martial arts, military tactics--

[ Christ the kid is three. He's three, right? ]

--but also things like the arts and sciences. Languages. How to break out of things.

[ That bodes so well for Jason. Damian's brow furrows at the explanation of Kraft cheese. Simple, but maybe too complicated still. ]

...--All cheese melts, Father.

[ Carefully worded, but Talia has never punished him for taking a tone, and this one suggests that his father may be crazed. His mother has left him with a man who isn't in full control of his faculties.

Mama, why. ]

It's a good plane to start with for a beginner. Small, four-seater. Good man--ma-neu-ver-ability-- [ Careful pronunciation. Precocious as hell, but he still trips up over longer words. ] --and it's easier to sneak through places with.