by Rachel Ford
“Yes, of course. But F’rok – Anston ark Kridar was in our house. Standing on this very spot not three hours ago. Breaking bread in our dining room.”
I recognized the names of J’kar’s parents. They were a prominent family in the Kriar region, so wealthy, I was given to understand, that the Inkayas seemed paupers by comparison. Lila had married into House Kridar from a middleclass family of civil servants and farmers, which, in its own day, had caused something of a scandal.
F’rok blinked in the face of this exuberance. “Well, uh, that’s great. Did you…get along?”
“Get along?” Dre laughed. “Like duck and plum sauce, F’rok. Like duck and plum sauce!”
I was indifferent to the pairing, myself, but based on the expressions of those around me, I understood this to be a Kudarian expression for very well indeed.
The younger Inkaya smiled, a relieved kind of smile. “I’m glad, Dad. Very glad.”
He nodded briskly. “And it gets better.”
“It does?”
“They’ve invited us – to their house. All of us, the whole family.”
“We told them you were just getting back today,” R’ia put in, “so Lila told us to pick a night that worked, and let her know.”
Dre shook his head, as if astounded. “Such magnanimousness. To leave open an entire week of nights. Can you imagine? As if the Kridars have nothing better to do. What a show of favor, eh?”
R’ia smiled to herself. “Come on, Love. Let the children in. We can tell them all about it once they’re off the doorstep.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Unbeknownst to them, the Kridars had saved the day. Their show of goodwill put the Inkaya patriarch in an unassailably good mood, and he had eyes for nothing but the positives now. He no longer mentioned that his daughter married beneath her station; he remembered that he was going to be a grandfather. “My first grandchild. Do you think it will be a boy, or a girl? No matter, I suppose.”
He made no more comments about his son being gay, either. “My quiet F’rok, a Kridar? Who’d have thought it.”
And though Frank had provided him with neither station nor grandchildren, what he might now offer loomed large in his father’s mind. “Well, that leaves only one Inkaya still on the market. And now that we’re tied to the Kridars, you can do better than a Nikya, even if she is matriarch of the House now. Everything works out in the end.”
“Now you’ve done it,” Frank teased his younger brother. We were hiding in F’rok’s study, savoring a few minutes away from the overeager plans Dre was making. “You’ve set the bar so high, we’re all going to be failures.”
“We’ve definitely created a monster,” F’rok grinned. “J’kar and I were talking about a small wedding before this.”
Frank laughed. “He’s already got a list of guests. It’s over a thousand people.”
“I know. And he was asking me if that’s too few.”
“How do we even know a thousand people? I couldn’t remember half the names he read me.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s just inviting Kriar’s bigwigs.”
“And everyone he hates, too.”
F’rok shook his head. “Yes. Old rivals too. Like me marrying J’kar is something to lord over people who did him wrong. Good gods, F’er. What am I going to do if a bunch of father’s old enemies show up to my damned wedding?”
Frank laughed. “Talk to Mother. She’ll be able to talk some sense into him.” He shrugged. “She’ll probably have to give it a few days. He is still walking on air. Anston Kridar was here, in this very house, F’rok. Anston Kridar!”
The young man laugh-groaned at his brother’s impression, and so did I. It was eerily accurate.
The truth was, though, Dre was only just getting started. During our absence, the Inkaya cousins had taken their leave – and left their uncle to stew in his own thoughts.
The next morning, we learned something of the result of those ruminations. F’rok’s wedding dominated the breakfast conversation – driven solely by the Inkaya patriarch.
“They haven’t even set a date, yet, Love,” his wife reminded him after a good while of his planning. “Perhaps we should let the kids work that out first.”
“Oh, no – we can’t leave the date to chance. We must consult with Akura, and see what portents he sees in the stars. And we’ll need to see when the temple is free for the ceremony. We may have to delay to find the right day – but not too long. When it comes to matters of the heart, you never want to leave these things too long. Nothing’s quite as unreliable as a heart.”
F’rok pulled a face. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Father. But do you really think the high priest will marry two men in his temple? You know how…what’s the word? ‘Traditional’ he is.”
This at last gave Dre pause. “The Kridars have been patrons of that temple for centuries. As have the Inkayas. He wouldn’t dare refuse.”
“Perhaps,” R’ia cautioned gently, “we should leave that to F’rok and J’kar to sort out.” He began to protest, but she reminded him, “We do have more pressing matters to attend.”
“We do?”
“Welcoming Ger to our House?”
“Oh.” Dre’s lack of enthusiasm was palpable, and F’riya flushed at his tones. “I suppose we’d better get on with that. It won’t do to have our grandchild’s father living with his parents.”
“No,” R’ia agreed. “It wouldn’t.”
“Who knows what nonsense people would say. And it would surely get back to the Kridars.” He frowned into his plate. “Well, that can be done quickly enough. It shouldn’t be much trouble for him to move here. He could do it today or tomorrow even.”
“Well, not as quick as that, Father,” F’riya said. “He still needs to take his leave of his parents.”
Dre scoffed. “Take his leave? He’ll be right down the lane, F’riya. I’m sure they’ll be here to see him often enough – too often, probably.
“Anyway, he’s an Inkaya now. You two saw to that. So he’d better live like one, or people will talk. And after everything that’s happened lately, well, we can’t have any more talk about this family.”
The young woman’s color deepened a shade. “I’m sure he will be here as soon as he’s ready.”
“Excellent,” R’ia nodded. “Then, when that’s settled, we must plan the feast to announce your pregnancy, F’riya.”
“I don’t want anything too elaborate, Mother.”
She pshaw’ed this with as much vigor as her husband had dismissed a non-temple wedding. “You’re an Inkaya, F’riya. Your child is an Inkaya. We will not act as if we’re ashamed of her.”
“Do you think we should invite the Kridars?” Dre mused, his brow creasing in thought. “They won’t be – well, offended to share a table with a Britya, will they, F’rok?”
The young man flushed in turn. “No, Father. J’kar already met Ger – and he knows that he’s a Britya. It doesn’t bother him at all.”
“He has? Oh.” His frown eased. “Well, that’s good then. And – they got along?”
“Of course.”
He nodded. “Good. Very good. I would hate to exclude them, and have them think we were snubbing them.”
By midday, we were all ready to escape Dre. “I should really talk to Ger,” F’riya decided. We were in one of the sitting rooms, playing chips – playing chips, and listening to Dre’s plans. “So we can start organizing his move.”
Dre nodded absently. “Very good, my dear.”
“And I should head back to Kriar,” F’rok added. “I’m supposed to meet J’kar.”
This caught the elder Inkaya’s attention, and he nodded more emphatically now. “Well, you shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
F’rok frowned at his father, but ignored the comment. To his sister, he said, “Are you taking the shuttle?”
She shook her head. “I can walk. You take it.”
“I can give you a ride, if you like.”
“Or we can call the spare from the carriage house,” R’ia put in.
“I’ll take the ride down, if you don’t mind, F’rok. But I can walk back.”
“You’re pregnant, F’riya. You can’t overdo.”
“I’m hardly an invalid, Mother. But, if it gets too dark, I’ll ask Ger for a ride.”
“Much better.”
“Or,” she said, “I might spend the night.”
Her parents glanced up in startled unison at this. It was clear that they hadn’t entirely acclimated to their daughter being with Ger, and all that that entailed. “Oh,” R’ia said, mastering her surprise. “Yes. I…I suppose that makes sense too.”
“In that case,” Frank declared, “I’ll take the second carriage.”
Dre frowned at him. “You? What do you have to do?”
“I promised Maggie and Kay I’d take them to get plum cake.”
He hadn’t, but I nodded along. I was going to scream if I heard one more idea about the wedding, or another word about the Inkayas being linked to “the most prestigious family in Kriar.”
Dre snorted. “You won’t find any this time of day. None that’s worth eating, anyway. It’ll all be gone.”
“Well, we’ll try our luck anyway,” Frank said, getting out of his seat. “If you two are up for it, anyway?”
“Definitely,” I said.
“I’ve been craving plum cake all day,” Maggie added.
“In that case,” F’rok said, “why don’t I come with you three? You can have the shuttle. I’ll stay with J’kar, maybe for a day or two, and he can bring me back.”
“A day or two?” Dre frowned.
“At least,” the younger Inkaya nodded.
“They have a lot of details to sort out,” R’ia reminded him.
F’rok shot his mother a grateful smile. “Exactly, Father. We can’t do much planning until we know what J’kar wants. And what his parents want.”
Dre nodded soberly. “I suppose not. Still, I hope they don’t intend to strongarm us on this thing, F’rok. It is your wedding too.”
“Yes it is,” R’ia said, putting a gentle hand on her husband’s arm. “Which is why we should let him take charge of it.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
We had no specific plans, except escape. “I suppose we’d better try to find a plum cake,” Frank decided. “If only to cover our tracks.”
F’rok and F’riya had already gone their separate ways, and now we were wandering the city streets. I remembered the delicious cake we’d had the other week, and my stomach growled. “I agree. Except, then, I’ll want to eat it. And if last time was any indication, I have exactly zero willpower.”
Frank nodded. “Now that Father has decided to embrace this thing, though, I don’t want him to figure out I was just lying to get out of listening to him.”
I laughed. “Poor F’rok. I don’t know how he’s going to survive until the wedding.”
Maggie grinned. “If he needs to get off-planet, the Black Flag is back in about three hours.”
He laughed. “Now that everything’s in the open, at least he’ll be able to stay in town. Away from Father. It’s poor F’riya I’m worried about. Her and Ger: they’re going to be the primary beneficiaries of dad’s input.”
“It’s a big house,” I said. “Maybe they can have their own wing, or something.”
“It’ll be the only way they all survive under one roof,” he predicted sagely.
The point settled, we headed in search of plum cake.
“What about Mother Ikyel’s?” Maggie wondered. “Their cake was very good.”
“They won’t have any left. Not this time of day. None of the premier shops will.”
“Premier shops?”
“Plum cake is something of a Kriarian specialty.”
“We gathered,” Maggie smiled, “from Kaya.”
“The best shops sometimes sell out by mid-afternoon. And unless you order in advance, forget getting your hands on anything on a feast day, or a holiday weekend. Not even the groceries have them then. They’re gone the instant they touch the shelves.”
“Well, where do you think they might still have any?” I wondered.
He considered, then wrinkled his nose. “Well…our best bet is probably L’re’s.”
“L’re’s? I take it they’re…not very good?”
“They’re alright,” he shrugged, “unless you’re used to Kriarian cake.”
I smiled. “You’re a snob, Frank. A cake snob.”
He nodded. “When it comes to plum cake? You’re damned right I am.”
Still, his objections notwithstanding, we headed for L’re’s. It was a leisurely walk through the city’s colorful boulevards. The late-afternoon sun was warm, and the breeze light. Everywhere we went, the ripple of water from the artificial streams accompanied our steps.
I didn’t put much faith in the elements, but there was something remarkably peaceful about the gentle lapping of water making its way to nowhere in particular.
We reached L’re’s after a short walk, and found that it was still open. “Well,” Frank said, “there’s no getting out of it, I guess.”
“Be brave, Frank,” Maggie teased. “You’ll survive.”
Grumbling to himself, he held the door. “Go on, find a table. I’ll put an order in. You want coffee?”
“Yes please.”
“Always.”
He grinned at me. “I wasn’t asking you, Kay. I knew the answer already.” Then, he turned for the counter, and we headed to the tables.
L’re’s was a mid-sized café with comfortably situated tables that afforded just enough distance to provide a degree of intimacy, but not so much space as to seem isolated. There were a handful of other patrons, but, at this hour, the floor was more empty than occupied.
“How about by the window?”
Maggie nodded, and we found a spot overlooking the sidewalk and waterway outside. “Hey,” she said as we settled into our seats, “would you be upset if I talked to Frank about leaving?”
“What?” I asked, the question drawing me back sharply from the view. As far as I knew, things were going reasonably well.
“He can stay. I don’t want to cut his time short. It’s just…we’ve been in the way since we got here, Kay. And I know he’s Frank’s dad, but the way Dre treats his family makes my skin crawl. I don’t know what I hate more: the mercenary acceptance or the bigoted rejection.”
I nodded slowly. Frank’s dad was a character. “Alright. I’m sure the family would like some time without us always in the way, too. What would we do?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. We could leave one of the shuttles here, so Frank has a way to get back to the ship. And then we could pick a place, and go there. Just me and you.”
I smiled. I was liking the idea of that. “Two weeks with you, and nothing to do and no clock to punch, eh?”
“Yeah. What do you think?”
I grinned at her. “I think, sexy lady, I’m sold.”
She rolled her eyes at me playfully. “Alright. Where do you want to go?”
“Somewhere warm. Somewhere with a nice beach.”
“More beaches, eh?”
I nodded. “Where do you want to go?”
“Somewhere with mountains and hiking trails.”
I groaned. “Oh Mags. Even on vacation you want to be working.”
“We could go camping, in the remote reaches of some planet. Somewhere with a lot of wilderness. There’s nothing like foraging and hunting for your next meal, or cooking a fresh catch over a campfire.”
I groaned deeper. “We could stay at a resort, and have our food brought to us without worrying if it’s going to kill us. We could stay in the sunshine, and climate-controlled quarters. And you want to battle bugs and hunt for your food?”
She smiled at my protests. “It was just an idea. We can go to a resort.”
“No,” I moaned. “We did that already. It’s not fair th
at you don’t get your vacation too. So, if you want to Lewis and Clark our time away in the wilderness, let’s do it.”
“You sure? If you really hate the idea, we don’t have to do it, babe.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t give me options, Mags. Then I’m going to reconsider. But if I don’t do it, I’ll spend our whole time feeling guilty. Let’s just go camping.”
She laughed, reaching across the table to take my hand. Caressing the back of it with her thumb, she said, “I love you, Kay. And don’t worry: you’re going to love it.”
I harrumphed my skepticism. Maggie’s idea of a good time and mine seemed to be vastly different. Not that the idea of being all alone with her for days on end didn’t appeal in its own way. I just couldn’t forget the part where we’d have no showers, no running water, and no hot food unless we caught it and made it ourselves.
It was one of those things that sounded sexy, unless you thought about it too long. As soon as my mind moved on from the part where it would be just me and her, and I started to linger on the sweat and bugs and wild animals, it felt a lot less sexy.
Still, there was an excitement in her expression that wouldn’t allow me to say ‘no.’ I’d rather do something that made Maggie happy, even if it did involve living like a caveman, than not. “So, where do you have in mind?”
“Well,” she mused, “there’s a planet not far from here. It’s-”
The café door dinged, and I glanced up. So did she. Two young people ducked into the establishment, a man and a woman. The sunlight was behind them and for a moment, I could not make them out. But when I did, I saw the Nikya children, Kor and Kia.
“Shit,” I murmured. We hadn’t met the Nikyas since their mother’s funeral, but a lot had happened since then – not least of all, the truth about Frank’s fake engagement coming out. Something told me that would not be well-received.
Frank had mentioned the Kudarian propensity to family feuds. What would news that he’d faked a betrothal in order to escape marrying a Nikya do for their two families? Nothing good, I was sure.
Nor did I maintain any hope that the news might not have leaked. F’vir had left in a rage, and the entire thing had been witnessed by half a dozen distant relatives. There was bound to be at least one set of loose lips among so many. And it would take only one gossip, after all.
