"Are they really a month old?" Ann Marie questioned aloud as she returned from settling their babies for sleep, no matter how briefly they would do so. Poor Miss Ruth Barron still had little effect on Aesara's wailing when she was doing it simply for the desire to wail. She was beginning to suspect either colic or spite.

"Yesterday, yes." Over the course of their marriage, Mycroft had grown quite used to non-sequitur questions. Still, he had expected her to be tracking the days for their life methodically.

"I mean since they were born a month too early, are they really a month old or are they just at zero now?" She stood with her back to the mirror, groping to undo her dress. "And also, do you think it's too soon to wear a corset again? I'm very nearly back to normal."

It was horrible to be thankful that the twins had been born too soon; so many early babies died or else suffered, but any larger and the tiny blonde might have bled out trying to deliver them. Besides, they were well. "They're a month old, a person can't be a negative number of years old, Ann. And I wish you'd give it more time. You bled…"

"Something Dr. Elsi said is perfectly normal after birthing." Her dress finally gave, pooling to her feet, a puddle of cloth. "I'm glad to be a mother, I just want to be pretty again!"

"If you were any prettier, I wouldn't let you leave the house, and if you insist on that corset again, start gently, hmm?" He could not stand to be worried any more for her.