"It's a bad habit, sneaking around on rooftops."

To his credit, Bastian barely flinched, "Runs in my family." he paused, "Bad habits, that is, not rooftops. Although we seem to have accumulated many of them, too."

Lord Vetinari stepped forwards out of the shadows, and Bastian took the chance to examine the man's face; he wished he'd inherited his father's eyes, as crimson was so unsubtle, but he was pleased with the cheekbones and rather glad he hadn't got the nose.

"Reports reached me that you passed your final exam."

"I did."

"Apparently the exam had to be made more difficult to compensate for your vampiric abilities."

The subtle deepening of Bastian's frown showed clearer than words his disagreement on this topic.

"It was not a well-reasoned decision. Male vampires have considerably less magical ability than females - presumably traded for the helpful talent of staying fully clothed - and this magic derives from the drinking of human blood. I am a male half-vampire b-totaller-" Bastian cut himself off with a grimace, "Good gods, I sound like a fairy tale creature - so my powers are incredibly decreased anyway; I can just about manage a few bats and the odd levitating candle, although even that gives me a migraine. Superhuman strength is all well and good, but not much help when you're falling three hundred feet to your rather messy undeath…"

Vetinari raised an eyebrow, amused, "I suppose this is the moment where I pat you on the shoulder, and tell you that all that really matters is that you passed."

"That clearly isn't what matters."

"Of course it isn't. This is politics. Though, I believe congratulations are still in order."

There was a brief handshake, a shoulder pat, and smiles.

"Really, mother, you are incredibly unsubtle."

"Really, Bastian, you do dress like a schoolboy." the vampiress responded smoothly, by way of retaliation, as she slipped out of the shadows.

"That would be because I am one, mother dear."

"You've grown awfully fond of that phrase." she scoffed and shook her head, "And look at your hair! Latest Ankh-Morpork fashion, I suppose?"

Margolotta was surprised by how quickly the boy came to the defence of the city.

"At least Ankh-Morpork changes its fashion once in a while. Uberwald can never progress if it stays so stuck in its ways with tradition."

She sighed. "Good gods, its like having two of your father."

Vetinari looked distinctly smug, "The boy does have a point."

"And this is a matter we have debated for decades, we do not need to bring it up now." she turned away from the Patrician and gave her son a bright smile, "I do like the suit, however - you ordered from the tailor I suggested; Mr Bespoke? Ghastly's work is truly magnificent. Finest Assassin's Black, perfectly fitted. It came as no surprise, of course, that you passed with almost full credit."

Bastian accepted her open-armed invitation, laughing over her shoulder, "Hugs? You're getting soft, mother."

"I have fears of that myself," Margolotta admitted, pulling back, "Pastor Oats has found me a new apprentice - I shall have to be doubly strict with him, to make up for my lapse with you."

"Replacing me soon? I am hurt, mother, truly." Bastian placed a hand over his heart, giving a mock-grimace.

"Who is he?" Vetinari asked, touching his son's shoulder to lightly restrain his small attack of silliness. Margolotta considered the statement for a few moments, before answering.

"His name is Nutt." She added after a small hesitation, "He's an orc."

"An orc?" the eyebrows of both men lifted in surprise. Bastian responded first, the mirth gone from his face, "I have every faith in your abilities, mother, but isn't an orc a bit of a…lost cause?"

"He may be, but don't you think he deserves the chance to decide that for himself?" she shot him a significant look and he lowered his head sheepishly to it.

There was a short, comfortable pause in the conversation. Bastian emerged from his train of thought to break it, turning to his father.

"You knew about me the whole time, didn't you? But you had to come across as more sympathetic, so that I would be able to move on and work everything out for myself." He shook his head, "Oh, it seemed so complicated at the time, and yet in hindsight, it is all glaringly obvious."

"Unfortunately, that is how life works." said Margolotta. "If we had been given a choice," she continued, "That is not what we would have chosen for you."

Vetinari nodded, "Every other option would have lead to a small scale Morporkian-Uberwaldian war at some point in the future, and ultimately both in ruin. This way gave you the opportunity to establish your own identity without being suffocated by the shadows of powerful parents."

Both watched as Bastian considered their words, running a thumb across his lip and studying a far-off spot in the midnight sky. He finally returned to them with a small, rueful smile. "And the price of this was a family. No - I am not complaining." he grinned, "I daresay if I had grown up with both parents, I would have become very spoilt indeed."

"What are you planning on doing now you have graduated?" Margolotta prompted.

"I really don't know," he shrugged, "I think I'll go back to Genua. I liked Genua."

Bastian turned and walked towards the edge of the roof. Vetinari and Margolotta exchanged a glance.

"You're leaving now?"

"Why not? I'm making the most of having no ties!"

"Very wise, I'm sure." Vetinari responded, unable to restrain a certain curling of the lips.

With a grin and shoulders that seemed lighter than they had been for years, Bastian von Blintz sauntered to the very edge of the building and turned around.

"I'll write and tell you how Great Aunt Roberta reacts." he called.

And he stepped backwards.

After a few seconds that seemed to last a lifetime, a column of bats swarmed up and spiralled out into the night. Lady Margolotta let out a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding.

"I hate it when he does that."