The Finnish washes over Ivan, single words like 'wash' and 'kitchen' standing out, but more than that it makes him feel like coming home, like things will be taken care of now. The language will always be a servant's speak to him, but at this age, that mostly means that he'll probably get food soon and that people will be nice. It's a good thing. And then there are vague memories of his wet nurse, who was the most steady person that ever existed in his life, that always add a layer of comfort to hearing it.

Even if he could fully understand what was said, he wouldn't really listen to it, too tired and still crying, hiccuping and trying to keep the tears from falling but failing. He rubs the sleeve of his left hand over his face, not realizing that he gets snot all over it that way, and clutches the hand that is holding onto his right tightly. His sight blurry and the eyes small with tiredness, he doesn't see nor care where they are going, content to tag along as he is led. He'll explore the house once he is allowed and has the time, but at the moment, he has no curiosity left and only wants to get some food, get warm and sleep. Not necessarily in that order.