After the realization of her child's paternity came the realization that the child's father seemed to have no clue of it. Why should he, though? She had been nothing but discreet; she had defrauded all of Hogsmeade with her tale of a whirlwind romance that naturally concluded in a speedy marriage to Ari, and if anyone suspected anything of her pregnancy it was that she and Ari had shared a bed before they were wed. It was preferable to the alternative—this alternative. And yet, it occurred to her as she opened her mouth to speak, that fighting his assistance or really anything beyond feigning feminine weakness might clue him into her thoughts. And Dionisia knew one thing of men: they did not tend to care about women they had no reason to care about.
So she nodded, letting out a breath before allowing her wrist to come to a rest at her forehead. "Yes," she muttered, shaking her head as if shaking off a dizzy spell (which was not too far from the truth, she had to admit). "It's been a long day. Forgive me, Mr..." she continued, disregarding the façade of a Father Christmas altogether. Elliot seemed to, as evidenced by his newfound interest in the candy he held. She knew the man's face. She remembered that much. She needed the name; it lingered at the edge of her mind but refused to let itself be known to her.
So she nodded, letting out a breath before allowing her wrist to come to a rest at her forehead. "Yes," she muttered, shaking her head as if shaking off a dizzy spell (which was not too far from the truth, she had to admit). "It's been a long day. Forgive me, Mr..." she continued, disregarding the façade of a Father Christmas altogether. Elliot seemed to, as evidenced by his newfound interest in the candy he held. She knew the man's face. She remembered that much. She needed the name; it lingered at the edge of her mind but refused to let itself be known to her.
