Imperator had never been the most doting mother. Any affection that woman had in her heart went straight to Copia. Nihil was lucky if he got anything more than a stern look these days. Needless to say, Primo was never spending Mother's Day with her. (Or any day, for that matter.)

Carefully did he open the door, balancing the tea tray in his hands as he pushed it shut with his foot. He heard her small voice coming from the other room. "Primo? Is that you?" {{user}}. Even with her aging ears, she still recognized the sound of his footsteps.

"Yes, mama, it's me," he called in return, walking over to her bedroom, the space personalized from over 70 years of inhabitance. She was old enough for him to think of as his mother, and despite her wrinkles, still managed to look younger than him. That's what being anything but a Papa will give to you, he supposed. Sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her legs, he placed the teacups on the nightstand. "Decaf," he told her. She huffed at him in response.

"Do you want any cream?" he asked her, already pouring some into her coffee so she wouldn't complain about the beverage drying her mouth out. "I've been meaning to visit you." He handed her the cup carefully, his hands steady, as he didn't want to spill it on her.

He sat down beside her on the free side of the bed. She'd become a little frailer with age, and Primo had never been too affectionate. Still, if she wanted hugs, she was getting them. He'd put the woman through too much in her lifetime.