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“A Hawkite and a decorated Bold. A member of the elite military guard,” Cala clarified, her eyes shining with pride. “I love him, Ardol.”
“Well... I... But you’re mine!” The edge of a snarl whipped from his lips, his fangs showing. “You can’t do this! Your father—”
“My father knows there is no better way to secure a permanent position than to have his daughter marry an Avian, but he would never force me to do such a thing. Nor will he force me to marry a Leopardine, just to appease a District Lord. I will marry for love. I will be more than a plaything. I will be a partner.”
Fear replaced anger. No wife? No heirs. His father would choose one of his younger brothers as an heir, one who had a better chance of finding a wife in a few years’ time from among the young female cubs who had survived the virus and lived to maturity.
Only the chosen heir (usually the eldest) would have the full privileges afforded to a District Lord. If he wasn’t chosen, he wouldn’t rule. He would have to work at some “honorable profession.” Maybe even stay on the Comet Stalker for years.
Flying in a freighter full of humans and Canids while arranging endless inventory and shipments, or being the most respected, wealthiest Felid in the district? Maybe on the planet?
The choice was easy.
“Cala, you will be my one and only. We’ve not been together for your safety! It’s not fair that you give this Hawkite a chance I never had!”
Cala stared at him for a moment, then let out a pitying chuckle. “When Swift was on assignment, traveling with the Avian Prime Minister, and we were still merely friends, he wrote to me every night. He sent me a gift from every port. You didn’t have to be near me to be close to me, Ardol.”
“Wonderful. A Queen who speaks in riddles.” Ardol dragged a paw down his face.
“I planned to tell you sooner—but you... It’s hard to know how to break bad news to someone you feel is a stranger. Father wanted to do it with a formal notice to you and your father, but I insisted I tell you first. Mother thought that perhaps you’d like to put your own spin on it for your Father’s benefit. Saying that you ended the engagement out of your preference rather than having your betrothed choose an Avian.”
“Sweet Bastet! Yes!” Ardol felt the blood drain to his boots. “I’ll tell him—for your sake as well as mine. You’re turning down one of the future District Lords, Cala. You’re turning against your own species when they desperately need Queens. It’s inexcusable.”
“Swift and I are willing to raise orphaned cubs and fledglings. We’ll be parents one day—but fortunately, my future husband does not think of me only in terms of my ability to breed.”
“That’s... That’s just selfish! It’s not about an ability to breed; it’s about helping repair a decimated race!”
“We’re hardly decimated—there will be a long gap between our generation and the next, but we’ll survive. And whether I raise a cub I bear or raise one who has already been born and needs a home is immaterial. The results are the same.”
“No. They are not, Cala. Giving yourself to someone who has plenty of choices of mates in his own species while you leave Leopardine Knights without a bride—”
“Who was selfish first?” Cala challenged.
Ardol blinked. He had never heard his mother challenge his father. In fact, he had rarely witnessed them speak to one another except at government functions.
“Tell me, Ardol. Who was selfish first? Leopardine males had two, three, or even five Queens! Why did they need so many?”
Who wouldn’t want an array of pleasures instead of being stuck with just one? “We—”
“To have big families—huge, and then the Queens and female cubs are isolated from their husbands, sons, and brothers for most of the time. And when the virus hit—” Cala blinked her eyes, shedding furious tears, “it spread like wildfire through all of them, wiping out entire female populations, not just a small percentage. There was no controlling it because most Leopardine Kings hoard Queens like a cub hoards sweets. They consider the number of Queens a status symbol, like the number of transports and shuttles in their docking stations!” Her features were harsh, and fire danced in her eyes.
Ardol suddenly realized the cute little Leopardine he’d been promised had turned into a stunning, fierce Queen—and he wanted her more than ever. “It won’t be like that with us, Cala. You’ll be my only one. You couldn’t ask for a better husband. My father—”
“I am not marrying your father, nor his title, his land, his wealth—nor you. You would not be the best because of your connections, or simply because you wouldn’t expect me to share your heart with others.” The hard face softened. “We don’t love each other, Ardol. We never have. I tried. I hoped. When I was younger, the idea of marrying this... this handsome stranger was intriguing. But I don’t want a handsome stranger. I want a friend, one who loves me and only me. The one I can’t imagine my life without, not just the one who writes to me sometimes.” She smiled. “You can blame it all on me. Tell everyone I’ve been corrupted by travel and foreign ideas,” her voice lilted up, a sad little chuckle.
Ardol wanted to retort, “You bet I will.” But he didn’t. It would reflect badly on him and his father, not to mention his father’s holdings. Maybe even his younger brothers. They weren’t particularly close, but Ardol knew he had a duty to his family.
And the most important duty, as his father had constantly hammered into him, was to procure a fertile Queen who would produce an heir.
“Cala. Are you and this Hawkite able to produce cubs?”
Cala looked surprised. “No. The fertilization process between our species is currently incompatible. But, there was a whisper about a recent study my father heard of, something experimental developed by a doctor studying Queen immunology.”
Ardol swallowed a groan. He knew about the study. Intimately. The results of the study were currently requiring him to pull extra duties so his doting captain could snuggle his cubs—cubs that looked pale for Leonids, cubs with somewhat narrow faces, but cubs who were decidedly Felid looking.
“So. Under the circumstances—you’re infertile?”
Cala’s mouth dropped open. “You want to tell your father I can’t have children? And that’s enough reason to cut a Queen from your life?”
