Taras was silent, watching Ilarion's face.

Raw emotion flickered across Lasha's expression, tiny hints of expression, too minute for Taras to track or understand. That Taras could see it at all was a measure of the depth of Lasha's pain. Usually Lasha's control was absolute.

It hurt Taras to see it, and even though he wanted to look away, he did not.

Instead, he let his hand brush across Lasha's scalp, inadvertently ruffling his hair, making it stand up the wrong way.

He felt like he owed it to Lasha, somehow, to listen. To be a witness to what he said, especially since it was about his mother, the thing that Ilarion had found too painful to speak of before. He had been angry at Taras for bringing it up and had refused to speak of it. But now, he seemed to have changed his mind.

"You're not a beast. And you're not your father. And your mother - "

Taras remembered what Lasha had told him once, about the worst thing he had ever done.

Lasha had said it was letting his father hurt his mother.

Taras had not asked for many details.

He exhaled.

"Maybe that's why you saw her."

It was not simple. Taras felt slightly out of his depth. He stared hard, eyes intent and focused.

"...you had unfinished business."