with a reverence unimpaired

Amalia has never had an uncle, or a grandfather, or any significant male family member of which to speak- but she has had a grandmother, and in the tulmhainar's voice and touch she thinks she can see a little of her nani, the wisdom and the patience that made everyone love her so. Inhaling, she takes a sip of lemonade, trying to find a starting point. He suggests baking, and the girl smiles, nodding gratefully. "Well, as far as I can remember my family has run a bakery - Devas Bakery, in the Settlement..." And so she begins to weave her tale, speaking softly of her grandmother, her childhood, her triumphs, her songs. She tells him of her loves and dreams, the wishes she has seen come true. She tries to omit the darker moments, though they creep like ivy across some scenes, unbidden and unwanted but impossible to quell. But Amalia does not want to hurt him, now that she knows she is safe. And so she paints a sunlit picture, hoping it will satiate the world to whom she speaks. Amalia Her eyes, they know too much. She'll treat you like somebody but you just can't touch.