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"I've been doin' just fine," Dee said, still breathless, eyes big and full as she took all of Soho in. One hand was still happily clutched in her sister's. "Thank you kindly for askin', how's you and yours - oh, isn't she just so precious? Ruby, I declare you're the purtiest thing I did ever set eyes on, I swannee - happy first birthday, by the by, my bondmate brought over a box of chocolates, which isn't the best present considerin', your bondmate will probably just have to eat 'em."

Cascati, away from the screaming bustle of juvenile girls, finally noticed Silva's eyes; he tipped his hat at the other Feien and gave him a slow, secret smile, touching his lips just once before he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and a splintered piece of match.

"Don't smoke, 'tisn't nice," Dee said severely but halfheartedly, mostly enraptured by Soho.

"I'm not, dear, I'm inspecting my cigs for holes." Casca's attention was still all on Silva. "Hullo, darling. It's so nice to see you again."

"That's my brother," Burgundia explained helpfully. "My bond-brother, I mean. He's no relation."

"Charmed, ma petite," Cascati drawled; he ambled over to Soho, still in eye of Silva, leaning over to deliver her a quick peck on the cheek before moving away to light his match on a piece of rough cardboard torn from a match-box. "Any sister of Silva's is a friend of mine. Isn't that so, Silva-sweetling? The love we share, boundless and free, naked and wild."

Burgundia ignored this exchange: the secret for both of them to live in harmony was to start developing singular deafness. "Do let me call you Ruby," she said coaxingly to Soho. "Everyone'll be calling you Soho and Ruby's so pretty, I'd love to call you it special."

"Don't get me so aroused," Cascati said mildly, lighting the end of the cigarette and distastefully waving the match out. "Soon I'll start to think you secretly love me. All right, sweetheart, I won't kiss her any more, not if it makes you jealous."

Burgundia, still ignoring her brother, was still beaming all over her pale little face. "Casca's too itty-bitty to be a bonddaddy. So he's my brother. I do wish I had a bondfather sometimes, Casca can just be the worst chaperone, I'll tell you all about it some time when we can talk proper. But I'm your real live blood sister, so I swear I'll help you too. I can do your hair and we can go places together and talk and it'll be just fii-iiine."

"I'd surely love a bite to eat if you're peckish," Burgundia said demurely, and smoothed down the front of her dress with her free hand. "Just an itty-bitty bit. Shall we?"

"Of course," the ice Feien was saying, taking a deep slow drag of the makeshift cigarette, "of course, I'm just saying, darling - I couldn't ever give her a roll, she looks so very much like you. Just imagine. I'd be yelling out your name, precious. Then again, if that's her kink..."

"Darling, sometimes people prefer dexterity as opposed to your large hamfisted way of doing things." There was a horrible, empty look in Casca's eyes: too blank, too intent, too hungry. A little bit like the rat. "So no Soho. Anyway, dear, plastic gives me hives, though thank you for offering, I hear through the grapevine it's the only way you get any lately. Cigarette?"

Burgundia was already wisely going along with Soho, away from Casca, who obviously had all the mental capacity of a lemming. "I haven't really eaten yet," she admitted. "I'll have to beg you to help me, darlin', I surely don't know what to eat. What tastes good?"

Burgundia was apparently content to listen to everything Soho said; eventually she picked up a little bit of cut apple, screwed up her face, and prissily bit into it. She made a small noise of surprise when there proved to be more liquid than she anticipated: she mopped down her chin, actually managing to giggle a bit - which was deeply new for her - as she chewed and swallowed.

"Oh, my," she said eventually. "That's nice. I'll get fat soon and won't fit into anything."

"Down a copper mine," Casca said to Silva, with deep satisfaction. "******** up beyond all comprehension, my dear. I do admire you, you know, in your own special little way; you didn't rise to anything I said. And I was trying so hard. I was hoping for at least a brutal beating. Daddyhood must have gentled you. Do take my 'sister', too, I've been pretty much contemplating suicide ever since she came. Do you like my outfit? I look extremely homosexual. I almost expect sweet butch Sunil to jump my bones, I look so deeply gay."

"Well, at least you'll be controlling the rat population," Casca said baldly, and took in a deep lungful of the smoke again. His gaze had followed Silva's to the girls. "First kill. You looked it. But I wouldn't worry about your ma elle, ducky. She seems pretty sanguine. I half got lucky with my own, Burgundia is exquisitely psychotic. Nobody seems to give a damn any more."

"It's pure delicious," Burgundia said sincerely, arranging her skirts so she could sit down next to Soho. "I'm going to eat every scrap of it."

She paused after a few moments, still daintily eating the apple with both her hands and still getting messy anyway. "Why do you call him Silva Demon, if I can ask just a li'l bit, Ruby? He's not bad to you, is he? He doesn't give you a whop or anything horrific-like?"

Burgundia made the mental note to talk very quickly to Aleric in private about whether Soho was going to enjoy an appropriately safe home life. "Well, I've met your daddy Aleric and he's a perfect gentle-man," she said. "He was the one who showed me your pretty bloom when you were just itty-bitty."

"Strangling's more intimate," Casca said dreamily, tapping the cigarette. "So basically, dearling, you have a lot of rat-sex except now you bashed one's brains in. I always knew you'd turn out to be a psychotic killer. I'm so happy to know you."