A treat. Pandora soaks up his affection, encouraging her son to greet his father. Though little Ragnar did not speak yet, he was a friendly, sociable baby. "Congratulations, husband," she says. "On your accomplishment."

But a treat was not a slave, and as she examined the dark haired woman past her husband's side, she thought the dress laid a little oddly. "I will come with you," she says, brightly. That would not be an unusual thing. "You can tell me of this new slave for us to enjoy."