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  Sohm’lan watched as the Monticore and soldiers hurried to their assigned shuttles, the quickness in their steps giving away their excitement to be home.

  “Good midday, Warlord.” Captain Hesperos stopped next to Sohm’lan. “We are with you and the Princes today. I received word there will be a parade.”

  Sohm’lan frowned. What were the cousins thinking?

  “Prince Mestor is a war hero. Vids of his fight against the S’aae were declassified by Valespia’s Imperials a couple days ago, and some stations have been looping that and the inquisition on their news.”

  “What is the general opinion of the people?” Sohm’lan wondered if Azaes already had the information from their cousins.

  “I am told that Prince Zeus is a superstar among the masses. Vids of the battle of the mountain pass have been circulating. Prince Zeus’s notoriety was already high, but then Timsah made a fool of himself, getting caught in so many lies that the people are so pro-Prince Zeus, they border on being rabid in their defense of him. It is a good thing his return home was delayed.”

  It was excellent to hear that Zeus was so loved by the people, but he worried there would still be violence. Those who had been vocal, though not in front of Emperor Valdor or Empress Ashari, would be in danger. If it was revealed that Timsah had tortured Zeus, anyone related to Timsah Gadrius would be targeted. They would have to work fast to defuse the situation before Zeus came home.

  By the time Azaes and Mestor joined him, half of the guard had gone ahead to clear the way. He could not take his eyes off Mestor as he sauntered through the bay, so self-assured and cocky. He would not need to say anything for others to know he had been well claimed. Mestor was covered in Sohm’lan’s pheromones, and his black scales gleamed like polished gems.

  Similarly, Azaes and Ariafella were polished and reeking of each other’s pheromones. Azaes’ confident swagger cleared a path without his guard needing to say anything. Sohm’lan fell into step behind Azaes, dragging his attention away from the sway of Mestor’s tail. He needed to be alert for danger even if the populous looked on the Vondorians with favor. There could still be saboteurs aligned with Timsah Gadrius looking for an opportunity to take out one of the twins.

  The afternoon dragged on almost unbearably long. The shuttle to the military base was quick. Co-Stewards Kappa Vondorian and Noelani Anahita met them at the military base and accompanied them on the long ride back to Thrace. The roads were lined with people wearing Vondorian colors and wanting to see their princes. The older veterans had painted their faces for war. The procession practically crawled and Sohm’lan suspected he could walk home faster.

  After reaching the palace, a wave of work that needed immediate attention inundated them. Sohm’lan did not see Mestor the rest of the day, falling asleep in the wee hours of the morn, alone and missing his amor. He was awakened a short time later when a warm heavy body covered his.

  “You were not in my bed,” Mestor grumbled in a tired voice, flopping down on the sleeping platform next to Sohm’lan. “Do not let it happen again.” Then he was snoring.

  Sohm’lan fell into an easier, more contented sleep with his amor by his side. They had not discussed sleeping arrangements. It was something that had slipped Sohm’lan’s mind until he was ready to lie down for the night. When he woke, Mestor was dressing so he could answer the door, allowing the attendants to enter. “I want everything packed up and put in my rooms.” Mestor pointed and gave orders. “My personal attendants will put things away.” Sohm’lan rolled onto his stomach and grinned into his pillow.

  The mattress dipped and Mestor was crawling up his body, putting a show on for those watching. “There will be no question about where you belong tonight.”

  Sohm’lan shivered. If there were not others in the room, he would roll over and trap Mestor under him to make some sweet love. His pheromones thickened, and Mestor chuckled lowly.

  “Will you check on Kryp and Matsya and make sure Warlord Zachaios got them settled?”

  “I will do that first thing,” Sohm’lan promised, relishing how Mestor scraped their cheek scales together.

  In a blink, Mestor was gone. He sensed the attendants’ eyes on him and hiss-clicked a warning before he rose from the sleeping platform, using the sheets to cover how his sex had dropped with Mestor’s teasing.

  Days turned into weeks and Sohm’lan barely saw Mestor or even Azaes. He and Ariafella often passed one another in the hallway. Zeus sent word that he was bringing enough people to fill a nest and he needed his brothers to find him a house. Azaes found him a home big enough that would accommodate the number of people Zeus brought, as well as Zeus’s work as a warlord. Not an easy task when three hulking Valuzial guardians followed Zeus home. A couple days ago, Zeus, Dargon, and Alpha arrived home to Mar’Sani cheers and another parade so all could witness their beloved prince return home.

  What Zeus had not been aware of was that Azaes plotted, adamant that Zeus and Mestor would share his commitment ceremony. Sohm’lan was interested to see how Azaes talked both brothers into it. He did not care about the when, just as long as Mestor was tied to him.

  The cousins stayed and helped as they could. Kryp and Matsya settled in nicely. The palace medtech, Vyx, befriended Kryp. Often when Sohm’lan stopped by, Vyx was present, measuring Matsya’s progress. She was behind other young her age when on land. In the water, she was ahead. Vyx and Kryp worked together to teach her what Mar’Sani instinctually knew.

  The Cordyl Scandal was the talk that refused to die down. The noble houses vied for Azaes’ attention to ensure him that their members were not a part of Timsah’s plotting.

  The investigators lit fires, pulling in people no one thought involved with Timsah. Meanwhile, Sohm’lan conducted his own hunt, running a top-secret operation and shamelessly using Captain Hesperos and the Monticore, who were aware of the Numina, to assist him. He sent out search teams to People of the Longing’s citiplexes under the guise of visiting relatives, in order to dig up information. He had the satellites scan the oceans for populated areas they were unaware of. Shaneva had given him what information she could, and now he looked for a way to bring the Numina from the shadows, and free the People of the Longing without starting a war. He had even reached out to his father, who was offplanet ‘barding,’ as Sohm’lan liked to call it. Several days ago, he had received a message that they were returning home soon.

  He looked around his private office, the newest satellite images waiting for him on his data pad. His gaze returned to the glass balcony doors. The view of the Great Sea dominated the landscape, the sky a lighter blue. He wanted to go for a swim but did not dare without the guards Captain Hesperos had assigned to him. They were already doubled up on their duties and he could not bring himself to pull them off other duties simply because pool water was dissatisfying.

  Making himself leave the office, he entered the main room of the opulent suite. Rich fabrics covered the furniture and were draped from the bank of windows that overlooked the shore and part of the palace carved into the cliffside. Mestor had a private office of his own and a small library. The adjacent sleeping chambers were huge, with a bath that was more of an indoor garden pool. The palace sported several pools, both public and private. Half were on common grounds, allowing visitors to soak or swim as they desired. The other half were in the royal family’s private wing. One could barely go from one room to another without encountering a body of water. It was not always safe for the family to swim in the lagoon. There was often little time to cross the entire palace to take a rejuvenating dunk. Utilizing the nearest communal pool made more sense.

  Mestor’s rooms had a pool of their own that was just as grandiose as the one in his suite. The floor was covered with small, mosaic tiles while the walls boasted murals of Mar’Sani lore. Nesting bowls were carved into the floor along two edges of the water and were filled with overstuffed pillows, perfect for lounging and small gatherings.

  Removing his uniform, he thought about
calling Kryp and having him and Matsya come over for a quick swim. When he grabbed his data pad, he remembered Vyx had promised to take Kryp and the youngling to the market. Sohm’lan had arranged security for them the day before. Mestor was with Azaes and their cousins, meeting with the council. Azaes had overheard complaints about the investigators poking around and had called a meeting to make his position clear.

  A knock came at the main door just as Sohm’lan stepped into the water. He scowled. Everyone who might visit was otherwise engaged. Few knew he would be working from this office. He dried his feet and grabbed his robe. The sudden worry that something had happened to Mestor gripped him and he hurried to the door. When he jerked it open ready to snarl demands at the guards bearing bad news, he was brought up short by the sight of a blue-scaled bull, taller than him, who smiled fondly at him. Tucked against his side was a female with brown scales the same hue as Sohm’lan’s. His rising fear immediately evaporated, and he almost sagged against the door jam. He gave his parents a wan smile.

  “My son!” Sohm’lan’s sire, Echo Myrmidon, greeted with a chuckle. “You were expecting someone else?”

  Obviously, he’d failed to hide his relief. He stepped into the hall and looked toward the guarded entrance to the royal wing. Mestor grinned widely and waved. They had refrained from using telepathy since returning to home. Just because they had not seen the Numina did not mean they were not nearby, and he and Mestor did not want to signal they had quickened. On the trip home, they had practiced holding their quickening energy close and worked on shielding their thoughts. Sohm’lan met Mestor’s eyes and thumped his fist over his heart then watched his amor saunter away.

  “You had said Prince Mestor was your amor, but I had not quite believed it,” his mem, Lilika, said when he turned back to his parents.

  Mentally shaking himself, he gave them a real grin. “Mem, Father, my apologies. It has been a long few days. I did not know you had returned from your travels.”

  He beckoned his parents to enter.

  “We wanted to surprise you,” Sohm’lan’s father replied.

  His parents moved around the receiving room, taking in Sohm’lan’s possessions intermingled with Mestor’s. His mem stopped before the altar where incense burned next to the small painting of Niobe, pregnant and smiling. She turned to Sohm’lan and held out her arms. He went without more prompting.

  He was one of the tallest bulls on Valdor’s staff, but Echo was a half a head taller than Sohm’lan. His mem was just slightly shorter than him, but still unusually tall for a Mar’Sani female. He had inherited his scale coloring from her, and for a brief moment, he wondered if he would have any resemblance to his older brothers, the Chimera triplets he barely remembered. He shook off the melancholy thought.

  She pressed her forehead against his, her eyes shimmering. “I am filled with joy that you have found someone to love and who obviously adores you in return.”

  “He is everything to me,” he told her, his heart swelling with each word.

  “As he should be,” Echo replied, waiting for his mem to release him. “Greetings, my son. I am overwhelmed by your good fortune. Prince Mestor is a fine bull who has been following you around with stars in his eyes since he was at least seventeen summers, if not longer.”

  Sohm’lan refrained from frowning. Had everyone but him seen Mestor’s love? He lifted his chin and pressed his forehead to his father’s.

  His father’s variable blue scales always reminded Sohm’lan of the ever-changing reflections of Poseidon’s waters, and his father’s piercing blue eyes, exactly like Sohm’lan’s… and disconcertingly like Matsya’s.

  “We have seen all the vids of you and the princes in the fight on and over Valespia,” Mem said, taking a seat on the loveseat, carefully settling her tail through the space below the back rest.

  “All our friends sent us communications with updates.” Echo sat next to her.

  Sohm’lan grabbed a chair and brought it closer to them, leaning on the chest rest.

  “Do you know how proud of you we are?” Her amber eyes held a fierceness Sohm’lan had not expected to see. “There is not a corner of the Andromeda Galaxy that has not seen the vids of the battle. Even as a youngling, you strove to be honorable, to rise above your peers. But halting the Terrens and V’Saar before they could cross the pass to Haven—”

  Now he understood the reason for her intensity. “Mem, Prince Zeus and Prince Canry were the ones who led our people to victory. The only part I played was keeping the two of them safe.” His mem always gushed over his accomplishments, but never had she attempted to attribute another’s success to him. He would not allow her to start now.

  “And whose hand has guided the Vondorian young all these summers? Who has taught them how to plan, to strategize, and how to fight? Who has watched their every step? Who do they look to for help and guidance? You still hold their admiration and respect. They listen to your counsel.” He almost stopped his mem’s tirade right there, remembering how Prince Zeus argued with him, rushing into battle without Sohm’lan or his elite guards.

  “Pay attention,” she admonished softly, causing him to grin.

  “What Lilika is trying to say,” Echo gazed fondly at his mate, “is that without you and your lifelong dedication, that battle could have turned out differently. Prince Azaes, Prince Mestor, and Prince Zeus have faith and confidence in themselves because you taught and mentored them.”

  “We will have to agree to disagree,” Sohm’lan replied, smiling at the memory of Prince Mestor’s relentless pursuit of him. But the smile slipped away upon remembering how Mestor looked before Sohm’lan healed him. How close had he come to losing his beloved before they could build a life together?

  His father was restless, watching him with expectation. He had told them about being Mestor’s amor in the last vid he sent, but there was another reason why he had wanted to speak face-to-face.

  When Shaneva had suggested he speak to his father, at first he thought it was because Echo translated ancient tomes and records for the crown. But after meeting Lelex and the outcast council from the citiplex on Valespia, then witnessing the punishment given by the mysterious Numina, Sohm’lan had begun to suspect that the princess had pointed him in this direction for an altogether different reason.

  Yes, there were many things he needed to discuss with his parents. Glancing between his father and mem, he wondered from which one he had inherited his healing ability, which bloodline carried the quickening. He had had a long time to think things through, and he suspected both of his parents contributed to the quickening. His mem had been one of the revered bearers of Chimera triplets before she mated with Echo. Lilika’s story of how she fell in love with Echo, with him appearing on the shores with no past and no family... Sohm’lan suspected that the lack of information meant his father was Numina or knew of them and carried a geas chip.

  What if he was wrong and neither one of them could tell him why he burned within, why he glowed when he was with Mestor? Strangely, he discovered it was harder to ask than he’d thought it would be. If they knew nothing… No, Shaneva would not imply his father had answers if it were untrue.

  “What bothers you, my son? You forget, I know you well. You have something to say and yet hesitate to speak your mind.”

  “You are very knowledgeable about Atlainticia and the people who call her home,” Sohm’lan began, frustrated with himself. He was usually more direct, asking what he wanted to know without hesitation. Here he was, practically twisting the end off his tail, looking for a way to delicately ask the questions he needed answers to without giving away Shaneva’s secret. If they did not know what he was talking about, then he had been wrong about his father.

  Giving a hiss-click of aggravation, he carefully eased his grip on his quickening and with the smallest tendril, he reached out and touched his father. Echo jolted as if an electric eel had slid across his lap, his blue eyes widening even as a grin spread across his lips to reveal his sharp
teeth. But it was not a threat display.

  His father motioned for him to stop, rose from the sofa to close the balcony doors, pulling the heavy drapes across the wall of windows. Sohm’lan had long since tuned out the sound of the waves pounding against the cliff face, the din becoming a white noise he no longer noticed. The quiet was unsettling. Echo went from room to room, securing the exits leading to the outdoors. Mem rose and activated the interior lights, as if his father’s actions were perfectly normal.

  When they returned, she dug into her carryall and withdrew a palm-sized device and set it in the center of the low table next to the sofa. She pushed a sequence of buttons and the casing turned orange.

  Echo sat. “Now we may speak freely without unwanted eyes and ears.”

  “That is a scrambler.” Sohm’lan glanced at his parents in alarm. Palace security was excellent. Sometimes bugs were found in the council meeting chambers but this far in the royal wing, no such devices were ever found. Since the House Cordyl scandal began, Mestor had the palace thoroughly searched every day. With the Galactic Imperials’ investigators onsite, twice daily sweeps were conducted in the areas Tashelle and Hansard would be. “Why would you need to carry such a device?”

  “Bards.” His mem made a very unpolite non-mem noise, shocking Sohm’lan with her vulgarity. “They are worse than T’Sali politicians. There are a few who are honorable, but those who roam the galaxy will steal another’s work without thought or remorse.”

  “When we were at Haven, it came in handy after Valespia’s security discovered their communications were being tampered with and they activated the planetary shields,” his father added. “Once the plot was uncovered, we loaned out spare scramblers to Emperor Valdor. Personally, I do not think the traitors thought their machinations would be noticed so quickly. Since the disappearance of the Bespoken years ago, the court gossip abounds with whispers of a traitor or faction working against the Galactic Imperials and the Council of Neighn. Between unscrupulous bards and these spies, we took to carrying scramblers on our persons. We do not venture beyond small talk without activating the device.”