Arenor cleared his throat as the food-fight intensified, but Alain's ear-to-ear smile kept him from scolding the child. A grin threatened his own face as he thought of his childhood, a rare occurrence for him, as enough had passed between then and now to fill several lifetimes for a normal man. His lips twitched upon his stern features, and although he controlled the expression, he sighed in relief as Nikolas stood to break up the 'fight.' He would not be the killer of Alain's rare merriment if he could help it.<br/><br/>The child froze as the nobleman approached. His shoulders hunched up like a startled cat's and the spark drained from his hazel eyes. After all, he didn't trust Nikolas and feared his anger, though not so much with his father sitting next to him. He slid his smaller hand into his Arenor's as he waited with hooded eyes for Nikolas to speak. Well, the man didn't sound /too/ angry, and his new friends kept their smiles. Inch by inch, Alain relaxed and finally muttered a half-hearted apology into his plate. He hung back at the thought of lessons -- and looking foolish before the other children, but Arenor rose to his feet and helped Alain up before the child could protest.<br/><br/>"Indeed," Arenor said with a raised eyebrow and nod to Lady Violet. "Perhaps the three of you might make better use of that energy."<br/><br/>Alain hovered near his father until Lana offered her hand. For a moment, he leaned more into his father's shadow, and then leaped forward and latched onto her hand with two of his. Arenor couldn't help but notice the contrast of Alain's calloused fingers and Lana's delicate ones. At least she did not judge the difference, or he hoped not. Children could be wise in that way. His brow creased and he stood like a thoughtful statue as the children traipsed off toward the hall, but he roused himself at Nikolas' words.<br/><br/>"Of course." A dry chuckle rumbled in Arenor's throat. "Forgive me, I am not certain the last I saw Alain this way. Children should be with other children. I see that now." With Nikolas standing close to him, the sorcerer sensed the anxiety in his body language that he had only guessed at from across the table. Without thinking, he placed a hand on the nobleman's shoulder and gripped as if to offer comfort. At proximity, and even in the dull lantern-light of the dining hall, Nikolas' eyes caught his attention. Where had he come by such a color? Were he the type to pry, he might have wondered if indeed a fae had romanced Lady Violet under a full moon one night. "Yes, let us go," he said, after a moment's pause, and he released Nikolas' shoulder to join the gigglers out in the hall. He wondered at himself. Few people, women or men, held his attraction or his attention these days, not since the death of Alain's mother. He stroked his chin as he walked, musing. Perhaps he was not so dead inside as he had thought.