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“I’ll be along later. I have to talk to Cala.”
IN HIS QUARTERS, ARDOL sat at his personal computer and pulled up his messages. Cala’s letters had always been so cute and sweet. Ever since they’d begun corresponding personally (instead of through their fathers), Ardol had been struck by how perfect she was. She was charming. Perfection. And beautiful, with wide green eyes, thick black spots, and lovely gold and silver piercings in both ears.
Ardol stiffened slightly at the thought of bedding her in just a few weeks. They’d have to rendezvous at a fueling station just outside the Lyxian System, and then they’d head home for the wedding. He opened her message, the first one in several cycles. Admittedly, he rarely wrote unless she wrote first, but Cala was always understanding. She knew he was busy with school and the estate, and now this silly job (which was mainly meant to prove that his management and coordination certifications hadn’t been wasted).
Dear Ardol,
Please call me the moment you get this. I want to talk to you, not simply read your words.
Cala
“OOOH. THIS IS NEW.” Cala’s messages had been shorter and more infrequent of late. Now he knew why. Even though it wasn’t necessarily proper for Leopardine Knights and Queens to speak unsupervised when at home in the Leopardine System, he and Cala weren’t at home.
And in a few weeks, she’ll be my wife. She’s obviously hungering for a taste of her future husband!
Ardol slicked back the rakish wave of fur he grew long on the top of his head and lounged back in his chair. He wanted to look suave but sexy. A young bride needed to know she was in good paws; that’s what his father had always said.
Ardol tapped the link at the bottom of Cala’s message, and a new screen opened, a blue screen that changed colors softly and slowly until it connected with a hissing click.
Cala’s face emerged through a trickle of static. “Ardol! I’m so glad you saw my message today!”
“Of course!” Ardol smiled even more broadly, hoping Cala didn’t pick up on the slight tension in his face. Sometimes he didn’t respond to her messages for days. Even weeks. He’d have to do better. Be more attentive. There would be no second wife for him, no do-overs. “Look. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. This flight has been far more dramatic than I thought. I haven’t just been coordinating freight. I’ve had to deal with two human females—one who gave birth to hybrid Leonid-human cubs only a cycle or so ago and one who had been poisoned by some experimental drug and had to be removed from the ship for treatment. And now we’re about to make a several-week stop at the very tip of the Lynxian System. It’s a remote mining planet, from what I hear. But—the good news is, once I do the initial onloading and coordination, I should have almost a whole cycle free to meet you at the Avian Intergalactic Fueling Station, and then we’ll head home. Will your father and mother join us aboard my shuttle, or do you intend to travel separately?”
Cala hesitated, a small smile on her face. “I... I’m unsure of their travel plans, but I—”
“I know. I failed to arrange a more auspicious meeting place. But my father’s manor is exceptionally lovely. I’m sure your father will confirm that, although I know he hasn’t been there in years.” Was he striking the right note between reassuring, apologizing, and boasting?
“It’s very lovely. I’ve seen pictures. Very large. Rooms for all the wives. And the dormitories for the male cubs and the female cubs.”
“We called them suites, but yes.”
Was there a cold note in her voice?
“Well. Um. Do you know, Ardol, in the Avian provinces, each male only takes one wife?”
“I’ve heard that is the way with many territories throughout various galaxies, even our own. And these human women tell me on Sapien-Three, very few adults wed at all. The Leopardines uphold tradition.”
Cala shook her head, leaning forward.
Ardol tried not to let his eyes linger on the drape of purple fabric drifting past Cala’s neck, hinting at the soft white fur of her cleavage. Snowy white fur that might trail down her belly and all the way to her—
“Here, a male spends years working out the most elaborate displays of love to win his maiden’s heart. They build altars and temples to the woman they hope to win. They perform dances and songs, write entire operas and plays...” Cala’s face took on a dreamy, lovestruck look. “All for the one maiden he wishes to spend his entire life with. For him, there can be no other.”
Here I thought she was safe. It looks like those bird brains have corrupted her. I’ll have Father speak to her father about this. “How very nice,” he said politely.
“You haven’t done that for me, Ardol. You have never done more than write me a few lines on a screen, sometimes cycles after I’ve written to you. Leopardine men think of their wives as property, not partners. Having only one wife is rare. Only one love? Even rarer.”
With an effort, Ardol pressed down his rising annoyance. “Look, Cala, we’ll get to know each other. We’ll have time for all of that undying love stuff. And you will be my only wife. I mean, it’s not like most Knights will even have the chance to marry until they’re in their late thirties and forties, at this rate, and then only those who are lucky enough to take a young wife. You know there will be stiff competition for Queens. Not every male will be lucky enough to get even one. I know I’m lucky to have you.”
So why didn’t he feel very lucky at that moment?
Probably because of the way Cala was furiously shaking her head, making her earrings bounce in vehemence. “You are lucky to have me. I am your possession. I’m your one and only by default, not because you love me or you’ve sought after me. My father ‘gave’ me to your father as a gift for you because it was an excellent social and political decision. Well, my father has come to love the Avian people. My parents have learned to fall in love with the idea of having only one true love—and they want to stay here. I want to stay here.”
Anger flared out of confusion. Was she criticizing him? Rejecting him? Just rejecting Leopardine ways? Ardol’s chest felt tight as he held down a snarl. His voice was lower, darker, but still composed—for now. “Cala, you cannot possibly break off a betrothal at this late stage. It would be political suicide for your family.”
“The only things more important to my father than his career are his wife and his children. I... I’ve fallen in love, Ardol, with one of the Bolds in the Avian Prime Minister’s personal guard. And he loves me. Not only do I know it, but the entire province knows it. He flies to my balcony daily with my favorite flower. He’s spent cycles convincing me that I am the only one for him. I expected you to notice when I stopped writing more than a few lines every few cycles. Swift would notice if I were absent for one day.”
“Swift? That’s the name of this... birdman?”
