Shilaren is keenly aware of the boy watching him, though at least it's the Prince and not one of the other bra-- one of the others. He's not going to call them brats again. He's not sure their mother won't know, somehow, even if he doesn't say it out loud and he's also not sure she won't rip his head off over it. Or something equally unpleasant.
Parents these days really need to calm down.
It's not like it is his fault they'd run around his lab -- which he had repeatedly warned them not to! -- and then knocked over an experiment several weeks in the making, ruining it completely. At least they haven't done it since, which means his yelling must have helped and really, it was for their own good, because it could have been something dangerous. What if they had spilled acid over themselves? Has she even considered that? (Admittedly, putting anything overtly dangerous out of reach had been one of the first things he'd done when their new guests arrived. If the Vestige's great great great great niece or nephew were to end up dead for knocking over the wrong vial, he would, genuinely, feel a little bad. But that's not the point. The point is, this is a lab, not a playground.)
The Prince, at least, is both quiet and still and more interested in watching than joining the other children in their games. Which is a little odd -- you'd think Altmer would be more studious than a Colovian, though there are exceptions to every rule, he supposes. And while Olivier seems a bit concerned that the boy might be struggling with his recent experiences (which is a very euphemistic way of saying "I think being kidnapped, threatened with death and dismemberment and having his face cut open might have traumatized him", Shilaren thinks), he's just happy he doesn't have a third word-he-can't-use breaking his things.
But still. The boy is rather noticeable anyway, because Shilaren doesn't usually have people sitting in his lab and watching him. He's not sure he cares much for it. He could throw the boy out, of course, but who knows how the kid will take it, and if he starts crying Olivier will most certainly be mad at Shilaren. Not to mention the Emperor, if he ever hears the big bad Dunmer made his son cry. Not that he’s worried about an Emperor’s anger -- the buggers come and die faster than he can keep track off -- he’d just rather not be bothered even more, is the issue.
The Vestige better appreciate the things he does at her family’s request.
He’s not even sure how they got saddled with the Prince in addition to her actual family. Maybe Olivier had just been so charming the Emperor decided he would make a good caretaker for his own child as well. Which makes some amount of sense, since Olivier is indeed very charming. It’s one reason -- among many -- Shilaren married him, after all. Olivier had blamed it on Telandil instead -- well, maybe not blamed. ‘Said it had been at Telandil’s suggestion’ is, perhaps, a little more accurate. Which would mean the Emperor trusted a man who had only recently defected on where to send his child while he took back the Imperial City and negotiated a peace treaty, which seems strange.
Then again, Telandil had apparently just slaughtered an entire group of assassins that tried to kill both the Emperor and the Prince. After succeeding in saving the City from being consumed by a daedric ritual. A mission he’d gone on right after bringing the boy safely back to his father in the first place... After saving him from Thalmor captivity.
Hm. Maybe not that strange. Certainly takes after his great great great aunt, there.
At least the Thalmor won’t bother them, all the way out here. Probably. They could try, he supposes, but they’re in the middle of High Rock, not anywhere near the frontlines. In a castle guarded by centuries old magic wards. And dogs. Many, many, many dogs, which makes sneaking almost impossible, he knows from experience. He can’t even go to their bedroom without making much noise, because at least one of the dogs will always be awake and in need of either pets, a treat, or a nice game of fetch. Or all three, and unable to decide which comes first.
Not that he minds. If he did, he wouldn’t still be married to Olivier after more than nine centuries.
“How do you do that?” the boy asks and startles Shilaren out of his thoughts after all. He blinks.
“Do what?” he says and puts down the pestle.
“Make things float,” the boy clarifies and points at a glass full of void salt Shilaren had levitated to his work bench.
He plucks the glass out of the air and pours a bit of salt into the concoction simmering quietly next to him. “It’s a levitation spell.”
“And how do you do that?” the boy asks and Shilaren frowns. He could throw him out and have his peace and quiet. He could.
It’s just… It’s not a stupid question, exactly.
So instead he mixes the now thoroughly crushed mushrooms into the pot and turns his stool towards the boy. “I dislike repeating myself,” he says. “So listen well.”
To his credit, the boy does listen, and Shilaren tries to keep his explanation as layman -- and child -- friendly as possible. He isn’t interrupted once and it’s only when he’s finished that the boy asks for clarifications. He’s really rather well behaved, for a six years old.
Once he’s done he turns back to his work. Does he need a bit more void salt? He thinks he might. He’ll have to restock that sometime soon, which most likely means having one of the servants buy it, because he really can’t be bothered getting it from atronachs directly, because Oliver always makes him leave the castle grounds for that just in case one of the many, many, many dogs might get hurt--
There’s a sudden crash behind him.
He turns, slowly. The boy looks like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, or at least how Shilaren imagines that might look, and his gaze flickers between Shilaren and a small candle tray on the ground.
“I’m sorry--” he starts but Shilaren raises his hand.
“Did you throw it?” he asks. The boy shakes his head.
“Did you try the spell?”
A nod.
“And it floated,” he says, a statement, not a question, because the tray clearly moved.
“A little,” the boy answers anyway.
He really should have noticed someone trying to use magic right behind him, he thinks, but the lab is full of magical energies and so is the castle, something enchanted in every room, wards layered over wards.
“I didn’t mean to bother you,” the boy mumbles and looks crestfallen. Perhaps he thinks Shilaren is angry at him. Probably, even.
