#and eternity collars are a way to claim them outside of those in the clans

[sinnbaddie]

Konoha 11 thinking Kakashi and Gai’s new matching necklaces are so cute and Kiba being the only one who knows what they really mean and being so embarrassed

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Kar’taylir Darasuum

AN ESSAY ON LOVE IN MANDALORIAN CULTURE 

A/N: This post has been a long time coming and I am SORRY for that. The lovely @darkmist111​ wanted to know more about courtship and romance as it pertains to the world of Resol’nare, and well... I sort of got carried away with research and head cannons and... well, you’ll see. 

Quick links: Resol’nare // Hokan’yc // Mando’a Dictionary

WC: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of violence, death - they are a culture of warriors, my friends, it’s unavoidable. 

thank you so much for this ask and for your patience while i worked on it! oh boy buckle up here we go: 

Courtship 

Courtship in Mandalorian culture is often a very short time period. Relationships move quickly from one stage to the next, because Mandalorians know better than many cultures that tomorrow is never promised. That being said, they don’t just pair off indiscriminately, and while physical appearance holds little to no weight in terms of attraction, there are other things that do certainly tip the scales. 

For someone like Din, brought up in an extremely strict covert with an adherence to The Way of the Mandalore that leaves very little room for interpretation, the most attractive trait a person can have is skill as a fighter. Knowing that the person they are pledging their soul to is capable of not only watching their six in battle, but protecting themselves and any children that might be in the family (foundlings or otherwise) is extremely important to Mandalorians. As such, many courtships begin while Mandos are in the final stages of training, when they begin to leave the covert to go on missions. (See Hokan’yc for Din’s story of young love at this stage in his life, and meet Aashi Zurn, the Mando who bested him in the sparring chamber and won his heart in the process.) 

Trust and loyalty are extremely important to Mandalorians when seeking a partner. Marriage in Mandalorian culture is meant to be forever- eternal- as Mandalorians believe that their souls live on after death, and remain connected to their loved ones until the end of time. Depending on the level of anonymity the individuals in question choose as a lifestyle (i.e. helmets on at all times or removed in front of others, names known or unknown), Mandalorians might show their trust in a partner by telling them something personal about themselves, something that they would normally keep a secret either out of pride or protection. This is usually returned in kind, a sort of exchanging of secrets that begins the binding of their two souls together that will continue throughout their relationship so that if/when they choose to marry, they are speaking the truth when they say that they know one another- in a way that no one else ever will. 

Some small ways that Mandalorians will show affection or appreciation for one another during their courtship and long into their relationship (because Mandalorians don’t just fall in love and settle, they keep falling deeper into it, letting it grow stronger) include: helping them clean their armor or weapons, tending to any aches and pains from old injuries- most Mandalorians make their own herbal salves that they use to soothe inflammation or to help heal scarring, and sharing from your own personal blend to provide comfort for your partner goes a long way. (This will come up in more than one way in Resol’nare, so look out for that in the future.) sharing or preparing a favorite meal, and in the event that they really want to emphasize their feelings, they will give a piece of their own armor to their partner, showing that they are ready to view them as a part of themselves, ready to protect them with their own life if necessary. 

The tradition of wearing the armor of their beloved comes from ancient times, when a Mandalorian fell in love with another who was a member of an enemy clan and had been captured by her people. To protect her lover from those who would kill them on sight just based on the sigil or coloring of their armor, she traded some of her plates with some of theirs so that they could escape unnoticed. Once two Mandalorians are wed, not even blood feuds between clans can come between them, so the exchanging of armor became seen as a sort of intention to marry for many Mandalorians.

Because Mandalorian culture takes root in various other cultures, some traditions from those other cultures cross over into theirs. For example, while no Mandalorian would ever make the mistake of asking a woman’s father for her hand in marriage and Mandalorian women are seen as complete equals and therefore able to make their own choices when it comes to their partners, some clans will still partake in common practices like introducing their intended to their family or announcing their engagement to their families and loved ones before making it known to others in the community. While jewlery is extremely uncommon in Mandalorian culture (unless it is functional, such as a beskar collar style necklace) engagement tokens like pendants engraved with the two names or rings either without stones, or rings with low profile stones inlaid into the bands- in some cases a gemstone will be embedded within the metal on the underside of the band, where it makes contact with the finger- are considered standard in most other cultures, so they are sometimes still exchanged but are in no way necessary to solidify an engagement or an intent to marry. 

Marriage  

The actual vows exchanged between Mandalorians are short and to the point, and there is no required ceremony, no officiant or witness needed, no record keeping of any sort, so the actual wedding is usually done just between the two individuals in private. Traditionally they are as follows: 

"Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde" which translates to "We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors."

Once the vows are said, the marriage is official and the Riduurok bond is forged and must be acknowledged and respected by all Mandalorians.

Newlyweds will lift the helmet of their spouse once the vows have been sworn so that they may be sealed more intimately. In the case of Mandalorians who keep their faces hidden, this may be the first time that one or both of them sees the other without their helmet. In other cases, the removal of their riduur’s armor is merely symbolic. 

Although there are no formalities that need to happen in order to legitimize a marriage, there are of course some traditions and rituals that are completed which Mandalorians believe safeguard and strengthen their bond with their spouse. These include getting specific tattoos, and adding each other’s sigil to armor or weapons.  

Riduurok Tattoos 

Tattooing is an important part of Mandalorian culture. Regardless of their culture of origin, where they come from, or how they choose to interpret the Creed, it is rare to come across an adult Mandalorian with no tattoos. Even the New Mandalorians under Satine’s pacifist regime continued to carry on tattooing, though not as extensively or ritualistically as the more orthodox communities like the one that Din, Paz and The Armorer come from. For them it was done more for decorative purposes. Though their designs still pay homage to shapes and motifs that are meaningful to all Mandalorians, they also include more aesthetic design elements such as florals, vines or stars. 

Typically a Warrior will receive their first tattoo when they complete their training at thirteen; a thick black chevron shaped cuff on their left bicep. This symbolizes that they are part of the larger Tribe of Mandalorians outside of their own clans, and serves to remind them of the duty that they have to protect all Mandalorians. They have to look at it each time they don or remove their armor, and in the abhorrent event that they are stripped of their armor in defeat, the ink serves as symbolic beskar so that they remain protected in the afterlife. Bands and chevrons are added to symbolize achievements in battle or heroic action to protect their covert.(Din has five bands on his left arm, the latest one just below his elbow- his first when he completed mandatory training at 13, his second when he completed additional elite training, his third when helped relocate the covert to Nevarro- see Hokan’yc- his original covert was located on Dantooine- his fourth when he was injured protecting a group of foundlings, and the fifth after claiming the Darksaber. He would absolutely have more bands had he not spent so much time away from the covert. He absolutely will have more bands by the time Resol’nare ends.)  For Mandalorians who live a long life or are extremely skilled fighters, it is not uncommon for these bands to cover the entire arm from mid bicep to wrist. If more space is needed, another chain of bands is added to the left thigh ranging downwards. It is said that no Mandalorian has ever completely covered their entire left side, simply because in a war-based culture, life expectancy is cut short. 

Mythosaur skulls, clan signets, troop affiliations and words or short phrases in Mando’a are also typical designs that Mandalorians may choose to have done. The Mythosaur is usually tattooed on the back while the right bicep is where Mandalorians will honor their families in their chosen way. Usually it is by adding their clan signet, names of loved ones or parents, or even symbols or patterns that are significant to their culture of origin. ( Navina has a tattoo on her right arm to pay tribute to her mother’s- who was a foundling- culture. It will be revealed in an upcoming chapter so that is all that I can say about that! Din also has the Mythosaur skull inside of a triangle on the right side of his chest, and his Mudhorn signet on his right shoulder.)

Riduurok tattoos are placed on the left side or center of the chest, over the individual’s heart, and are done as soon as possible after marriage vows are sworn. Taking the shape of the Kar'ta Beskar, Mandalorians personalize them by adding their spouse’s name in Mando’a in the empty space in the middle of the design. Like the arm bands, these are also meant to symbolize armor of sorts. They represent the way that married couples remain connected no matter if they are together or apart; that they are one, an integral part of the other, even in death. They also signify the strength gained through marriage, as well as the protection a Mandalorian vows to provide for their partner. Love is seen as something that fortifies, never weakens, and that is represented in this tattoo as well. 

(Terrible graphic made with love by me)

This particular tattoo comes directly from a Mandalorian myth predating modern record keeping. Legend has it that long ago, a Mandalorian warrior returned home from battle, eager to see his riduur after so much time away. When he arrived, however, he found only her lifeless form, the soul of the one he had tied himself to no longer inhabiting the flesh and bone of her body. She had been slain, taken from him and from their life together, and it opened in him a new capacity for rage, something far more fierce than fire. It is said that in the moment that the Mandalorian warrior saw what had happened in his absence, vengeance itself was unleashed into existence. 

The warrior, fueled by this new urge, this extreme desire to avenge the death of his wife, tracked down the marauders who were responsible for her death and killed them one by one. The last of them, as he watched the Mandalorian take his accomplices’ lives, did not beg or grovel. He could see that it would do no good. Instead, he confessed that he did not think that Mandalorians had the capacity to love so deeply as to inspire such retaliation, that he did not think Mandalorians were open to things that could make them weak, things like love. 

“Only fools like you would think that love makes one weak.” he spat at the man. “True love is power, it is strength- it is the joining of two into one and nothing, not even death can diminish it. But you? Death will erase your soul and before long you will be forgotten.” 

The Mandalorian warrior killed the final marauder then, and as he did the pure rage that he felt upon discovering the death of his riduur quieted. Instead, he felt her presence, as though she were there to wrap her arms around him. He felt her strength enter his heart, and though he would mourn her loss immensely, he knew that she would never truly be gone, that he would always carry her and that they would reunite when his journey came to an end. As a tribute to his riduur and what she would always mean to him, the warrior etched her name over his heart in ink, encasing it in the oblong diamond shape of the Kar'ta Beskar, symbolizing that she is the source of his strength, a kind of armor that protected him from facing eternity alone. From then on, Mandalorians added the Riduurok Tattoo into their marriage rituals.   

Clan Sigils 

In the case that both Mandalorians have already been assigned sigils, or if they have sigils that they inherited from their own clans, they will either combine both symbols into one new one, or they will add their spouse’s sigil right beside their own on their armor and/or weapons. (In Resol’nare, Navina’s beskar kal that she inherited from her father- thanks of course to Firo- displayed the sigils of both of her parents, as well as her own name)  

If only one of the two can claim a sigil as their own distinct mark, they will extend it to their spouse as they extend every part of themselves through marriage, and if neither one has been assigned a sigil, they will both take the sigil of the first one who is assigned one.  

It is completely up to the individuals regarding whether or not they will choose to take their spouse’s name- the important thing is that they are under the same sign, as their sigils are yet another bond that they carry into the afterlife that helps them reunite once both have rejoined the Manda. 

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THANK YOU AGAIN TO @darkmist111​ for this request. I had a lot of fun thinking about and writing this, and it was a great way for me to finally dive back into the world of Resol’nare. :) 

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the tags! :)

tags: @something-tofightfor @alraedesigns @pheedraws @valkblue @malionnes @gollyderek @fific7 @becs-bunker @commanderlola @greatcircle79 @cannedsoupsucks​ @dihra-vesa​ @marauderskeeper​ @disgruntledspacedad​

[chnat0wn]

Black Irises

Relationship: Alfie Solomons/Original Female Character

05. Son of My Right Hand

The weather was good at the beginning of the morning – the sun rays were peering into individual rooms, breaking through the windows and stroking the faces of the household members. Outside, more and more birds appeared, and the trees and shrubs stood calmly, unmoved by the slightest breeze. Deborah couldn't sit still at home in this state of affairs. She didn't plan a trip to the city, a long walk neither. The garden at the back of the house was enough for her.

Deborah loved to spend her time in the garden. She had lived near the street since she was a child, so her parents couldn't afford to have their own backyard. Besides, they loved the city, so they didn't feel the need to live close to the greenery. Gray buildings, sad streets – they were what Margaret and Robert Rouby felt best about. But Deborah always wanted something more. And although she wasn't related to Polly through blood, she claimed that Deborah had a gypsy need to feel freedom, otherwise she would suffocate.

Deborah loved flowers. She not only admired their beauty, which undoubtedly brought satisfaction. First of all, she liked to care of them – to dig in the soil, replant them from place to place, watch it grow, irrigate properly, and also get rid of pests.

Immediately after breakfast, she decided to go to the part of the garden where fruits and vegetables were usually found. Plants were just about to come to life, for the time being only bare, slightly frozen ground was visible. Then Deborah went to her own refuge – in late spring, summer, and early autumn it was really greeny here. Deborah preferred to be among all those colorful flowers and plants, than inside the house. In general, her house seemed too gloomy, not only in winter or autumn.

“Mum!” she heard Benjamin's voice behind her. She looked back at the boy and raised her eyebrows questioningly. Imperceptibly, she breathed a sigh of relief when it turned out that Benjamin was safe and sound. He came closer, and because Deborah was already kneeling, getting rid of weed remnants, Benjamin lowered his hands.

“What do you have there?” she asked, pulling off the dirt-stained gloves. She looked at the boy's hands. Inside, there was a bird. It wasn't anything extraordinary – not too big, black with yellow beak. A blackbird probably. And although Deborah had always considered all kinds of animals as friends and allies, she couldn't convince herself to birds. It wasn't that she did not like them. She was simply afraid of them. “A bird. Did you just catch... a bird?”

“I found it.” Benjamin said in a calm but defensive tone. “He was sitting on the grass. Uhm, over there!” he turned and nodded to the lawn a few meters away. “He cannot fly. Can I take him home? We have to do something!”

Deborah raised an eyebrow and looked closely at her son.

“You sure you only ‘found’ it?” she asked.

“Of course I only found him!” he nodded hastily. “What do you suspect me about? You think I stole him from the nest? Why the hell do I need a fucking bird?”

“What did you just say?!” Deborah opened her eyes wider.

“A bird?”

“No. Before a bird.”

She watched her child's face for a moment. And she was completely shocked. Her little, sweet boy has started using words that came to her completely naturally. But Deborah was a grown woman. She was sure, however, that she would never say anything similar in the presence of Benjamin.

“It was John, wasn't it? Or maybe Arthur? Oh my God, Tommy? No, it is not possible.” she shook her head slowly. Benjamin laughed loudly, making sounds that rewarded all curses, and then went towards the entrance to the house. He was only a child and already playing with her, testing the limits of her patience. “Fucking John Shelby.” Deborah breathed helplessly, pursing her lips.

  *

  The smells from the kitchen indicated that the dinner was coming up. Deborah told Armand that their guest was eating according to different rules. Armand preferred to experiment, so unfamiliar smells scattered all over the house. It even reached the bathroom, where Deborah currently was. She was sitting in the bathtub, holding a glass of whiskey. Only a few days ago, she promised herself that she would not touch alcohol in the near future. However, she needed to relax before the next meeting with Alfie.

Before entering the bedroom, Deborah brought the edge of the glass to her lips and tilted it, pouring the remains of the drink into her throat. She met Biagio in the room. He was standing in front of her dresser, looking at the cosmetics Deborah was usually using.

“Clever.” he said, lifting the packet of powdered pigment. He turned and looked at her. “It will be useful for you today. I really care about cooperation with Solomons. So you have to be a good girl.” he said, approaching Deborah slowly. “Because recently you really disappointed me with your unexpected trip.” he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. Deborah held her breath, but she couldn't look away from Biagio's brown, magnetizing eyes.

“I was at Ada's.” she finally gave up. She shrugged indifferently and lowered her eyes for a moment. When she lifted them again on her husband's face, he smiled in a way that caused an unpleasant shudder on Deborah's body.

“You're always at Ada's, aren't you?” he raised his eyebrows. Deborah swallowed hard, and Biagio shook his head in disappointment. “Next time, I will not be so gracious. Don't forget about it, okay?”

Deborah nodded. Biagio widened his smile and leaned forward to kiss Deborah's forehead. There was nothing sensitive about it. The kiss was only the sealing of the promise that was made.

“Tell Ben he should be ready in an hour.” Biagio said after a moment.

“Ben?” Deborah frowned. “I thought Ben would stay in his room. That he should lay low, I-...” she said, confused. Biagio raised his finger, which effectively silenced Deborah.

“I decided that Ben will sit with us. I want Solomons to get acquainted with my family. Who knows, maybe someday Benjamin will be doing business with him?” he said jokingly, but Deborah watched him with increasing panic.

“Who knows? I know. He won’t.” she folded her hands. “Biagio, for God's sake. Alfie Solomons is dangerous, you know that well. Dinner with... with a gangster is not an event for a little boy.” she said cautiously, stepping closer. Biagio tightened his jaw.

“I made a decision, understand? Whether you like it or not, Benjamin will have dinner with us tonight. In the company of Solomons. He will not be eternally a ‘little boy’. One day he will grow up and I won't support him for the rest of my life!”

Biagio breathed heavily, clenching his hands into fists. Deborah looked away and bit her trembling lips, not to say a few words too much. If Biagio ever wanted to involve Benjamin in his clan, Deborah had to think about the right steps to save her son from such a future.

“Adjust yourself.” he added. “Otherwise you will regret that I haven't killed you yet.”

Deborah watched Biagio leave the room. He slammed the door, and Deborah shuddered under the sudden, loud sound.

She didn't mind Alfie, but she wasn't sure how he would behave in the company of any child. After the last meeting with him she felt badly. She did not want Benjamin to know this side of Alfie. And she had the feeling that a man who could become a role model for her son will never come back. She wasn't ready to introduce Alfie to Benjamin.

  *

  “Debbie!” Biagio's loud calling reached the upstairs without any problem. Deborah extinguished the cigarette in the crystal ashtray in her husband's office and let out a last cloud of smoke. She stood up and involuntarily smoothed down the navy blue dress she wore. She went to Benjamin's room and took him floor below. As they were going down the stairs, Benjamin took her hand and clenched tightly. Biagio had never insisted that Ben accompanied them in any business-related dinner. It was clear, then, that Benjamin was nervous.

“Hey, what happened to that bold boy from the garden, hmm?” Deborah raised an eyebrow. Benjamin looked at her. “Everything will be fine. Mr Solomons has to deal with your father, not with you.” she winked at him. She led Benjamin to the dining room, where Biagio's voice has been coming from. In the room, however, there were two of them – Biagio sat at the top of the table, Alfie took the seat next to him.

“Mr Solomons.” Deborah spoke, entering the dining room. “Good evening.”

“Yeah, it ‘s.” he replied and he noticed her after a moment. “It ‘s.”

Biagio got up and walked over to Deborah quickly. He wrapped his fingers around her forearm, pulling her closer.

“Take care of our guest.” he ordered, and without any explanation he left the dining room.

Alfie was staring only at Deborah, as if they were in the room only by themselves. His face expressed nothing but boredom. Or something very similar. Deborah watched him too. He looked a bit different than when she saw him in the bakery. His hair wasn't such a mess, and instead of a crumpled shirt, a snow-white collar jutted out from under his neat vest. Deborah also noticed the glasses stuck in the vest pocket. Practices in his father's jewelry store had to affect Alfie's eyesight.

Solomons glanced at Benjamin as he moved behind Deborah. Alfie looked at the boy, and his face took on a grimace of disgust, irritation and disorientation. Deborah has never seen so many conflicting feelings accumulate in one place like a human face. But Alfie perfectly combined it into a quite coherent whole. Because these emotions didn't pass successively, one after the other – they suddenly appeared, all at once.

“What ‘s that, eh?” he asked, looking up at Deborah.

“It’s a human.” she replied calmly. “But smaller than you. We call that a ‘child’.”

“I can see that, ya frisky fing.” Alfie rose from his seat and grabbed a cane, which was leaning against a chair. Deborah didn't remember Alfie having it with him when she last saw him. “Me back ‘s killing me, mate.” he referred, no problem seeing Deborah's interest. He stood next to her and once again looked at Benjamin. The boy hid behind Deborah. “What ‘s yer name, lad?”

“Benjamin.” he said barely audibly. Alfie nodded. He stared at the boy for a moment until he finally looked up at Deborah again.

“Benjamin.” he repeated. He pursed his lips in a way that Deborah could barely see among the beard and mustache. “Son of my right hand. But he does not have swarthy skin or ‘is daddy’s brown eyes, does he?” he clacked. “My dear Deborah.” he pursed his lips again, and a grimace of anger crossed his face. “What right hand we talking about, eh?”

Alfie was close enough for Deborah to feel the warmth of his breath on her cheeks. He didn't look directly at her, rather at some nearby point, and if he decided to raise his eyes to her face, Deborah would probably faint once again.

“And ‘ow old ‘s yer child  as ya called ‘im?”

“He’s ten.”

“Ten?” Alfie raised his eyebrows. “He ‘s fucking ten.” he smiled, but there was nothing friendly about it. “So you telling me, right? You telling me this ‘s the reason” he pointed to Benjamin. “why you left.”

Deborah looked away. She took a shivering, deep breath and finally lowered her eyelids. She was convinced that Alfie's close presence was making her dizzy.

“Yeah.” he said after a moment. He nodded, pursing his lips. “Just as I thought.”

Alfie pulled back and returned to his seat, and Deborah felt she could breathe again. Alfie overwhelmed her by his power, ruthlessness and coldness. And he smelled amazing.

“We can begin.” Biagio announced. Deborah looked at him. He appeared faster than she thought.

  *

  Deborah adjusted the quilt, wrapping Benjamin. The boy was staring empty into space in front of him, so Deborah sat on the edge of his bed. For quite certain reasons, she looked at him with concern. She brushed Benjamin's hair from his forehead.

“What is it, Benny?” she asked, smiling warmly.

“Mr Solomons...” he hesitated. Deborah's expression changed diametrically in a fraction of a second. She was worried by the fact that Benjamin even mentioned him. They both deserved mutual contact. Alfie should get to know Benjamin, and Benjamin should get used to Alfie. The problem is that Alfie wasn't expressing any willingness for it. Although Biagio was still the biggest obstacle.

“What about him?” Deborah raised her eyebrows. She tried to encourage the boy to continue the conversation. Without specific intentions. Maybe some time ago, Deborah would be interested in what her son thinks about Alfie Solomons. Now – when she knew what kind of person he was – she did not care less about him.

“He is terrifying.” Benjamin admitted. “Really terrifying.”

Deborah smiled a little wider, then nodded.

“You’re right.” she agreed. “Mr Solomons is a bit scary. But you don't have to be afraid of him. He won't hurt you. You have my word.” she added and touched the tip of Benjamin's nose.

“I'm not afraid of him.” he protested immediately, shaking his head. Deborah's brow furrowed slightly, but she didn't say a word, noticing Benjamin's need to justify his position. “Mr Solomons is a very sad man. He did not smile even once, and daddy told him so many funny stories!” he said with absolute seriousness. “That's why he looks scary. Because he is very sad.”

Deborah was silent. Not because she wanted to. She couldn't speak a word. Emptiness filled her head. Benjamin surprised her many times, but never in this way. She even had the feeling that the boy might be right. Not that she would consider it as justification for Alfie's behavior. But thanks to that she could try to understand it.

“I wish I was as smart as you.” she sighed theatrically.

“You don’t need to.” Benjamin shook his head again. “You are very pretty, mummy. That's enough.”

Deborah bursted out laughing. Benjamin seemed to believe in his own words, but he couldn't keep a serious expression when Deborah's lips formed a wide, bright smile.

“Owh, what?”

“Owh, nothing.” she imitated the same tone, wrinkling her nose. “I'm just wondering, which Shelby I should cut off of you.”

“Oh, no!” Benjamin wailed in displeasure. “Anything, but not this!”

  *

  Deborah saw no sense in continuing to accompany Biagio. He was sitting with Alfie in the dining room when she left the room to put Benjamin to bed. The only thing she wondering about in all this was whether Alfie spoke a little more than at the beginning.

Leaving the bathroom upstairs – a thin nightgown, a satin robe, no make-up, and her hair falling down loosely – she heard Biagio's voice coming from his office. She was wondering, what she should do. On the one hand, she wanted to know what was so secret that it forced Biagio to change the dining room to a more secluded place. Still, she guessed what would happen to her if he caught her eavesdropping. In the end, she went silently to the ajar door.

“You have good information, Mr Solomons. I worked in New York for a while, so I can do what you asking for.”

“Ya fuckin’ what? Asking you? You?” Alfie's voice was full of disbelief and artificial admiration. “This ‘s fucking agreement, mate. I’m asking you, right? ‘Cause what we have ‘s a fucking agreement.”

Biagio was silent. Deborah smiled under her breath. She had never witnessed anything like it before. It has always been Biagio – the dominant one. This time Alfie crushed him like a worthless cockroach.

“And I want some proof, yeah? Proof of yer loyalty.” Alfie continued. “Somfing very precious for ya, my friend.”

Biagio didn't say a word for several minutes. Deborah couldn't tell what was the reason – the power Alfie emanated or the simple lack of the right words to express his dissatisfaction. Because Deborah knew well that her husband didn't like being treated that way. Nor was he stupid enough to oppose such a powerful man as Alfie Solomons.

“I have no idea what you're aiming for-...”

“Let me enlighten ya.” he interrupted. Deborah recognized the annoyance in Alfie's voice. He was impatient when he had to explain his intentions in-depth. “I need more bakers. Actual bakers. I have a few intrusive, stubborn coppers on me back.”

“I can give you as many men as you like.” Biagio said without hesitation. Once again, there was a silence, in which only Alfie's deep, heavy breath could be heard. He seemed to be even more annoyed than had just been.

“Tell me, Biagio” he replied only after a short time. Deborah could imagine Alfie burning the hole in her husband only with his eyes. “Can yer boys bake?”

Biagio was silent. Again. Standing at the door, Deborah once more stretched her lips in a malicious smile of triumph, even if it wasn't her that made Biagio feel trodden and powerless.

“But yer wife...” Alfie added after a moment. Deborah became serious in the blink of an eye. “Yeah. I need yer wife.”

“Forgive me, Mr Solomons, but...”

“Ah, forgiveness.” Alfie interrupted him, and there was a false enthusiasm in his voice. “‘ow many of us, right, ‘ow many of us are able to forgive? Forgiveness ‘s very valuable virtue, innit?”

Biagio was quiet anew, so Deborah had some time to dig into her own thoughts. What exactly did Alfie mean? He wanted her to work in his bakery? She was aware that Alfie knew about her acquired skills, but she thought it was not enough to work in a bakery. Besides, she was overcome by the feeling that it was not entirely honest and legitimate work. Because Alfie Solomons was not an ordinary baker. Alfie Solomons was above all a gangster.

Regardless of Deborah's own considerations, Biagio was still quiet. She held her breath, listening for answers.