For the first time that morning, Mars did not feel bright, for the fact she asked that question like it was impossible for her to believe his remark, did not make him feel bright in the slightest.

He did not comment on this.

He’d deal with her father, and her mother, at another time.

He answered, “Papa suffered no fool. He was well-read. And he, like you, valued silence and listening over pontificating. When he spoke, people listened, not only because of his manner, but because I cannot say I know of a time when he spoke just to speak instead of speaking when he had something important to say.”

Her fingers drifted through his beard as she murmured, “I’m sorry you lost him.”

His voice dropped deeper when he replied, “I, as well.”

Her hand moved, and her thumb trailed over his cheekbone as she gazed into his eyes and whispered, “Why is it that a great man like Ares is lost to this world and men like Wilmer and my father live on to be at least, ineffectual, and at worst, whatever my father is?”

“It is rare a great man, or woman, in all of history lives long, piccolina,” Mars replied. “Study your history books. A man, or woman, of vision or will, whose efforts and strategies might affect progress, comes to tragic ends and they do this early. This is because people do not like change, especially those who will have to share riches or power they have kept to themselves while also keeping those around them under their thumbs in order to ascertain they cannot take those riches away, or worse, lessen their power. I can think of only one in all of history who lived long, and that is because she created The Enchantments to protect herself and her sisters.”

He felt his arms about her tighten automatically when he saw the look on her face after he spoke.

“Silence?” he asked after the fear she now wore stark in her expression.

“You are great,” she said.

He relaxed, and although pleased she thought this, she was not right.

“I walk in the footsteps of a giant,” he told her.

“We will defeat the Beast.”

He was glad at her positivity.

“That is not greatness, bellezza, it is destiny.”

“You could not have walked in your father’s footsteps. You could have erased everything he did,” she pointed out.

“This is but a decision, not a mission.”

“You are great, Mars,” she declared stubbornly.

He fought back his smile and murmured, “All right, wife. I am great.”

If she wished to think that, he would not continue to argue the point.

“Do not humor me,” she demanded, appearing cross.

“This is hard when you are being humorous.”

She glared at him for long moments before her thumb again moved over his cheek and her eyes shifted there.

Her mood shifted as well, and Mars watched it happen, fascinated.