“Father will have you thrown out of the house for blasphemy.”
He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Good Gods.”
“Hi, by the way.” I smile at him.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He plants a kiss on the top of my head. He’s affectionate, and I suspect that’s one of the many reasons Father married him. He knew someone was going to have to show us some tenderness or we were all destined to be unemotional rocks. “Missed you. I’m glad you’re home.”
One hundred years to a star is like ten to a human. Time passes the same for us, but it’s perceived differently. I give a grunt and a nod, which translates from Orion into “I missed you too”.
“I brought the house back to order. Everyone was crazy. The baby got hold of a starblade.” I suppose—after contemplation—a child getting hold of a weapon in this house isn’t new. It’s me who's not used to that anymore. We aren’t as breakable as humans. Still. I don’t want him slicing a single one of his tiny fingers off.
He frowns. “Jamie?”
I nod. “Is he having boy trouble?” I ask, hoping I’ll get the full scoop from Dad.
“Yeah. A bit. But he’s an adult now. We at least have to try to let him sort through his own challenges.”
“Right. How long’s that going to last?” No one in this family can suffer fools for long.
Dad brushes his long hair away from his face. “Not much longer. Rigel is going to find someone for him if he’s not careful.”
Reaching carefully, he peels the sleeping starlet from me who remains asleep during the process. We need a lot of sleep when we’re younger. “Why is he so tiny?”
Dad bites his lip, and I know immediately. It’s something we don’t talk about—even though he makes me talk about everything else—because I’m sensitive about it.
“His mother died too,” I say.
He nods.
Unlike humans, who get the luxury of forgetting when their mothers die giving birth to them, stars remember. Every scream. Every crack of bone. All the blood. We can hear skin when it rips. And the worst part is, we can feel how much they loved us even while our existence makes their heart stop beating.
I have a theory that it makes us smaller. It’s harder to tell with other stars, but with Orions, you notice the difference.
“I want him. I want to keep him.”
Dad sways Trinket side to side. “Too bad. We love him too much, but you may borrow him. Besides, don’t you have to run that by your new fiancé?”
Right. Him. “Arrrrgh. I hate my life.” I stand up so I can brush my knuckles over Trinket’s cheek. “I could make him. Bet I could make him. If he doesn’t fall immediately in love with this one, his heart’s more poisoned than mine is and he should be tossed in the lowest recesses of the Nebuli’s dungeons.”
“Agreed. Now, come. Everyone’s yelling at me about you.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“They think I’m going to go against your good sense. Let’s go remind them about the rankings of this household, shall we?”
I smile and if I were a hugger, I’d hug him. It’s nice hearing that someone thinks I have good sense. I’m glad I came home. “Thanks, Dad.”
* * *
Treyu
With Trinket in his room sleeping, Dad feeds me. My brothers forgive me for knocking their heads together because Father would have done a lot more than that and they know it. Hell, Atlanta would have stabbed first and asked questions later.
Jamie, Jericho, Antares—the triplets—Delphinus and Joshie are home. Phoenix left this morning for an Earth assignment.
“Do we get to hear anything at all about what happened?” Joshie asks. “Or do we have to wait for Father to get home?”
“You have to wait,” I say. I’m not living through the horror of the telling more than once. Besides, they know. They just want gory details, which they’re going to be very disappointed about. My ascent to royalty isn’t an exciting story. It’s the equivalent of breaking your leg by tripping over your own feet rather than because you were fighting a perilous and gruesome battle.
