Hadrian shrugged, smiling mischievously, “Keep him on his toes, I’d expect. Can’t let the man get too comfortable.”

At the menion of Ora, Hadrian’s eyes grew distant. A sad smile drew across his face as he cast his mind back into the past. “The world always frightened her,” Hadrian mused, sipping his drink, “Ora never felt like the ground beneath her was solid enough to stand on, so she was always holding on to others for support. Sometimes they were the right people, other times,” Hadrian chuckled sadly, shaking his head, “Not so much.”

He took a sip of wine, eyes brightening a little, “But she was perceptive. Gentle, fiercely loving like you are. But she just never seemed to find a way to her way to happiness.” Hadrian looked at Valeria, eyes misty, “But I like to think she found that in you.”

“I do too. I do too.” Hadrian took another swig of his drink, pouring a cup for Valeria if she hadn’t already poured one for herself.

“How about a toast, Minnow?”

Hadrian thought for a moment, glass held aloft. He looked at his daughter, the woman she’d become, and smiled.

“To calm seas and weather skies,” He grinned, taking a sip of wine.