He can see Nereus look his way sharply at the foreign words, but the man’s attention is drawn swiftly back to the look on his younger son’s face. Felix is turned away from Jim, and yet- something in his face, the stark pallor he’s taken on, clearly tell Nereus this is more than merely a story. Paternal concern takes over, and he reaches up to clasp his son’s shoulders, expression creased with gut-wrenching worry, Jim’s cloak still in one hand.

“By the gods, Felix, what-“

“I can’t- I can’t speak of it, Father.” That’s no lie, even. Felix breathes deep, makes himself meet his parent’s eyes. “But it’s all right. I’m- it’s over. What matters is that Jim saved me. He and Stratos. I can’t tell you how much he- how he’s earned our trust. And my love. There’s no-one else I’d have by my side like him.”

Nereus nods slowly, and his voice is tight with emotion. “I understand, my son.”

And then he pulls Felix into a tight embrace, one the conjurer returns after a startled moment. When they pull back again, Felix reaches a hand back to Jim, glancing over his shoulder with wide eyes.