The weight of Dia’s head on his back brought him comfort. “Yes,” he agreed softly, and closed his eyes as she spoke of her daughter. The few children Şahin had sired on the Islands had disappeared with their mothers, and he mourned them. Even if they still lived, the opportunity to raise them from infancy to maturity was lost. Şahin envied every stallion who watched his children grow to adulthood on these islands, and he coveted his time with Mera because it was something he had been denied twice.

He opened his eyes when Dia next spoke and felt his breath hitch in surprise, but before he could clarify what she meant, the Akhal-Teke had moved the conversation along. Şahin stood in silence for a moment, processing, before he retreated to safe territory. “I’ve never met your daughter,” he said. “Is she very like you?” And he wondered who the father was even as he knew that was one question he would likely never ask. It was better to avoid giving offense than to ask for information about a child that a mare had not volunteered.

Şahin exhaled slowly, his thoughts returning to potential foals. “I don’t think Xina has any interest in my company, especially not to that degree. Maybe she’ll bring us another surprise foal in the future,” he said, and laughed. For all that he and the bay roan did not seem to celebrate one another’s company, they were civil, and Xina had brought two very precious children into Şahin’s protection. He’d do anything for Mera, and, as he was beginning to realize, for Conquistador. “I feel like I’ll be adopting children until I die,” he mused, turning his head to grin at Dia.