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It's amazing, how little of his face has to twitch for Iollan to know there's Something on the younger man's mind. Some would say that it's the way a Father knows a Son.

Some would be Wrong, but that's hardly Polite to point out.

"...I've just made progress, sir."

Since the last time one of his last Major Failings had been pointed out.

Progress. Progress with what, was not specified, but a father does know his son. There was no confusion to be noted on Iollan's face, but there was neither a smile nor a firm nod of approval.

Any Two who ventured out of the kitchen and watched Spades passing and interacting in corridors could have told Iollan this, so clearly there was more to say than a simple announcement that things might be finally - finally - taking a turn for the better.

"And?"

He's never thought particularly long or hard about what his parents might Feel for each other, if anything at all. Acceptance, likely, and maybe something close to a less intense strain of Respect for one another to stick together after the Child had been reared. He doesn't know if there's a name for it. He also doesn't know if there's a name for what he feels about Annie. He does, however, know that it's Not The Same.

"...and it might... take a bit longer than April."

Because it wasn't just Picking an acceptable young lady to have children with. It was... feeling something. That seemed to require more than the Four Months left before his birthday to get a proposal nudge in.

He had expected better from Declán, but he is no longer disappointed with all the boy's shortcomings. Being disappointed required Words and Effort and an Overt Display Of Emotions. And all that effort was better expended doing work than being wasted on Yet Another Precursor to more disappointments.

"Do as you will." Not a father resigned, or one who ceased to care about the Chiveses. The disdain that was shallowly buried in the monotonously-uttered words made that clear enough. He was simply one who has no more words to waste.

It's so much worse than being yelled at, than being struck. Those had felt Correcting. Those had made him Better.

This arm's-length disdain dug so much deeper, tore down what might have been made better.

The click of his jaw is brief, head managing to stay mostly upright instead of ratcheting to the side. "Six months surely wouldn't be such a burden."

"Why bother with these words, Declán?" Words were worthless when all they had nothing to offer. Why bother with giving anyone a timeframe if it changes as often as the seasons? Why bother saying things that meant Nothing?

"You would do well to not make promises you do not wish to keep. It is very unbecoming of you."

"Because you've not corrected me, sir."

Admonished, yes. Told, as now, that he was Wasting Time. Needed to get on with it.

But not yet taken it out of the younger man's hands. It wouldn't be so strange to simply be Handed a wife, after all.

"I cannot be expected to do everything for you," he said flatly with mild distaste. When the boy was younger, perhaps, Iollan had allowed himself to intervene and interfere where he thought he ought to. He devoted much time to bringing up the boys properly.

There had been two boys then, and now there was one. Just this one. And things were different now. Declán should have the sense to do things for himself, because he was a fairly capable Chives if nothing else.

"I do not like repeating myself. I do not have words to waste on someone who is unwilling to act on his own."

It's not the Right Thing to snap back at his father. It's the sort of thing spoiled children do. The sort of thing Chives children watch, from a young age, with a certain superior resentment. Maybe Iollan's right. Maybe he oughtn't have Piper in his life. Maybe caring so deeply for Victor and Ethan is making him Weaker.

"Should you have been content if you'd known there were someone else?"

If he'd Cared for someone. If he'd not Accepted that he would marry Reagan because there had been someone who Actually made him happy.

"There is no one." Not even Regan, when it came down to it. He married her when she'd been foisted into his arms because he had a duty to the family and to the Spades to ensure that there would be Chiveses running the castle.

"There is nothing beyond the Spades." Nothing for Iollan, anyway, who didn't distinguish himself clearly from the Suit he served in the first place. A Chives would understand this notion of duty, even if their head butler had absurd romantic ideals about marriage and family.

"But if there were, Father."

How long has it been since he'd used the word 'Father' so intentionally? Ever?

"What if-- someone made you better? Able to-- serve the Spades better?"

It's the rudimentary grip he's taken on love, at any rate.

"People are distractions." They detracted the Chiveses from their duties. Without people there would be no Spades to serve, yet those who are served are different. They are Purpose. Everyone that was left - other staff, other family - they only served to Distract. To be Involved with someone was to invest no small amount of time in personal endeavours. Time that was - or should be, at the very least - difficult to justify.

"You will find no one who will make you better." The best he could hope for was to find someone who would not distract him. But clearly that was not his objective.

People are Distractions. People are the Point. It's this way and that way. It's being a Chives and it's being a Butler and it's being a thousand people who aren't Himself because he never quite Sorted that out.

"She does, sir."

Or maybe it was that she gave him a reason to actually get enough sleep in a night because bed wasn't so Horrible to crawl into when she was there. Maybe he could find that with any warm body.

"Then do what you will," Iollan found himself saying again. Iollan had always been a better trainer than a father, and there had been a time where he would have insisted that His Way was the Only Way to do things. That he knew best and he was always right and there was no room at all for protests and arguments.

But their head butler was no longer a child and Iollan had little patience for talking when Declán had put himself at an impasse and had Nothing Good to say.

"Was there anything else?"

"Don't forget Master Sanford's got a guest."

Double tea to be sent when the Three came to take it to the tray. Not because Iollan didn't Know.

Just because this was the Order of Conversation, surely.

Iollan inclined his head, the way he would have to any other person speaking to him. He does not forget such matters, but all requests made are always Acknowledged.

"It is taken care of."