He grips her shoulders firmly, affectionately. He doesn't miss the fact that she's large with child (again? already? whispers his mind. Has it been that long, since last he saw her?), but he has to smile at her all the same. A mixed blessing, but still a blessing.
"Not one that ye will like, I'm afraid," he admits. "But 'tis good to see ye again, all the same. How is Ian?"
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"Not one that ye will like, I'm afraid," he admits. "But 'tis good to see ye again, all the same. How is Ian?"