“My mother.” He does not look at her now, only focused on his meal, making a careful show of how each utensil is held without patronizingly demanding she mirror him.

She will either follow his lead, or ask for assistance. He’ll not force her.

“We had little choice, when Landis was undone. It was her name that I took in order to survive here— she was a daughter of Archades by heritage, not want, and in what little time remained before her death she did her best to impart what knowledge she could of her lineage and its culture. It...did not take.”

He opted to focus on his career first, all he could manage, and the only thing that would save them— though of course, it did not save her.

“It was only when I was first made judge that I realized I would need to remember— and improve— upon her instruction.”

Judges are common, after all. Judge Magister are not, and though he had nothing but hunger in him, it was not for status, only wrath.