Alfred's first instinct was to be defensive. "Does it seem like I'm not?" he asked, shifting back in his chair and rolling his shoulders down slightly as he hunched over his brandy. As the words left his mouth, though, he considered that perhaps Evander wasn't looking for a fight. He might have been asking to be smug, or to have something to lord over Alfred later when he wanted to try and pressure him into making the more Evander-approved decision. But he had offered him a drink, and framed this as a conversation; he could have gotten a barb in without the pretense of either. Maybe it was a genuine question. In which case —

He unfurled with a sigh. "Zelda's just so much better at everything." Everything relating to parenting, that was. She could manage both children at once and keep them both happy and healthy; he had trouble getting either of them to fall asleep on time, or stay asleep, or eat anything. And if they started crying — well, it was just about even odds on whether he'd get them soothed again or whether they'd just be suffering together until either Zelda or the nurse showed up again.

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