A nice thought, but not likely.

I kept the respect in my voice. “Why do you watch me? Why make yourself sad?”

A tired voice drew out. “Because it’s still a pleasure to see someone enjoy the water.”

I let the rest of the water drip down and wrung my dark kilt.

He held out his hand and I gave thanks there was a hand to hold. Others had less.

The field crackled against my touch. “Walk with me,” he said.

I smiled inside. He had the ability to say it as neutrally as possible. Both a request and a demand. Femeni deference from another time lingered.

“There has been no trace of the contagion,” he said.

My voice was flat yet clear, “I’ll not take a chance.”

“Shouldn’t that be my choice?” He gestured to himself. “I’m far too old to give birth. The empire won’t miss an old Femeni.”

My lips thinned, and I looked down into his purple eyes amid wrinkles. “You’re worth more to me than my entire kingdom. You’re my Oma...”

He looked out into the ocean as his eyes shone. “I remember when I was pregnant with you. Your father and I used to sit here and wonder what kind of man you would be. This was before we found our Dara. Just your First Father and I... wondering about the king you would be.”

“Have I made you proud?”

“More than I could hope.”

“But...”

“You are alone. You’re a good king, but it takes more to make a kingdom.”

“I cannot take a Femeni. There are none left.”

“They are on Earth. Although they call them Omegas.”

My nostrils flared. I wasn’t like those cultists that suggested we clone ourselves. “Traditionally Volardi breed with Volardi,” I said. Our scientists said the Earthlings were a long-lost colony but...

“Please tell me my son isn’t a bigot or worse... impractical?” His face smiled at the last word.

“There are others.”

“Yes, and they are on other planets. This Augo kingdom needs a mate. Earth has Omegas. You Matros... you need one.”

“I had one.” I breathed in deep. Images of Zan in my arms, while I was helpless against a microscopic disease, lingered in my mind. All the power of a king, and I couldn’t do anything to stop him from turning into a corpse in my arms.

“I can do without one. I don’t want to hear anything more. Tell me you will stop trying to find me a mate.”

There was love in my voice but also the King’s authority.

His voice turned formal. “Yes, my son. You can go to bed and wake up tomorrow with a smile in your heart. Know that tomorrow is a new day where I will do nothing to convince you to take a mate.”

“Good.”

***

Chapter Three

PETER

Pa was sleeping or drinking whiskey. Couldn’t blame him for either choice. It’s the rare time he didn’t cough or hurt. I suppose now it was a break from finances too. In the distance, I heard my sister stomp around in the bathroom. I used to hate the time she spent on her last-minute make-up touches. Now I counted on it.