Perhaps that is so.

[ And in spite of himself, that dogged impulse to keep his private matters private, he finds his lips twitching in a broader smile. It isn't an expression free of melancholy — but at the same time, it's so much more than that. A fraction of the emotions beating inside his heart is enough to make that expression shine with pride, his face taking on a truly fatherly quality. ]

Did I? Forgive me. I had assumed you would envision splendor worthy of me. [ There's another roll of his shoulder, this time to throw his arm out in a bombastic gesture, the feathered cloak capping his raiment fluttering with a calculated flair. ] At times, my affection for them blinds me. Had I realized you didn't see what I do, I would have corrected that.

[ He pauses, and then he allows himself another moment of candor before he can think better of it: ] It is sentimental of me, but I had hoped they would be our victory march. It's only fitting that they be by my side as I claim their salvation.

[ And, there's that. A wish he has mentioned only in passing, leaving Fatima to draw her own conclusions from conjecture and dreams. ]