It could have been an order, but kings were always at the mercy of their mate even if we couldn’t admit it out loud.

He nodded. “Please give him my love. My father’s light years away, and I lost my mother. He’s the closest thing to a parent I have here.”

“Always,” I whispered before I turned to attend to my dying Oma.

***

The doctors moved to the side as I stepped into his room. Soft glowing purple from the medical field lit bathed his pale skin in a sickly hue. Volardi were many things. Here we were dark from the sun. Peter would call us tanned. Most are never sickly white.

I turned to the doctors in a silent question if there was more news. There wasn’t. With no spoken command, they turned to leave.

I stepped through the field and looked down while he panted slowly. It was a strange sight I never got used to. The force field around his body extended out and pushed down into the bed. Almost as if he was in a hole made for him.

For a burial. No.

“The doctors are working still,” I said.

He smiled slightly as if the gesture cost him effort and I suppose it did. “And they found nothing.”

“We will find a cure. I’ve sent out information requests off planet. We will find–”

“I’m old and I’m sick. It’s not a good combination. One or two can be fought for a while. Two together is a formidable enemy.”

“Volardi defeat their enemies.”

His hand went out and the static electricity made the minute hairs rise on my arm. “You are your First Father’s son… even Adone’s.” He coughed before I continued. “Don’t be sad, my son. No Oma wants to leave his son alone. You have the Earthling. I’ve seen how he looks at you.” His eyes watered and he blinked several times to keep the tear at bay but it fell. “The day will come where the palace is filled with the laughter of your children. Perhaps a Dara as well.”

My voice rose, “And they will enjoy my Oma.”

He shook his head. “My time is coming soon. I expect the physician will not find what’s wrong.” He coughed again. “No parent should lose a child.”

My forehead scrunched. “Do not worry. I am well.”

“No. I see it in my eyes. My life is killing you.” He pressed hard against the force field until it sparked. “This is a lingering half-life. Let me die as Volardi.”

“Absolutely not. We will find a cure.”

“Every breath is an effort. I sit here in this bed and feel myself dying.” He wiped away a tear. “Besides seeing your children. Do you know what I wish for?”

I remained silent while he told me.

“I want to smell the brine.”