Second Son

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Second Son Page 11

by Brenna Lyons


  “Doctor?” Jole asked in concern.

  Mik arched an eyebrow. “How early should Hugam be given?”

  *

  Pri 2nd

  Michael raised Danellan’s hand to his mouth and laid a kiss on her knuckles. She offered a strained smile, smoothing the ankle-length lavender gown self-consciously. She was terrified, though she hid it well.

  “You’re beautiful,” he assured her. The backdrop of his retreat home was a perfect compliment to the radiance of her presence. The wood and marble accented her innate warmth.

  “He won’t approve. I know he won’t.”

  “My father doesn’t have to approve. He’s never approved of his sons or our mates. I don’t care if he does. Jole approves of you.”

  “That matters to you,” she noted.

  “No. It wouldn’t have, but I’m glad he likes you.”

  Her blush was beautiful. Danellan gave him a look of invitation that had Michael aching to take her again. Her schen was fierce, and he loved it. He had spent the last three days reveling in it, assuaging her body’s pregnancy demands whether it was healing her pregnancy signs, feeding her or satisfying her formidable urge to mate.

  But, now was not the time. His father had contacted them three hours earlier, announcing his visit. From the voices rising in the entryway, it was clear that the battle was about to begin. Michael had orchestrated this meeting perfectly. At every turn, Kell would be turned back. It was a battle Michael would not risk losing.

  Danellan took a shuddering breath. Michael led her to a place near the fire. It was most likely her fear of Kell that made her shake, but he wouldn’t chance that it was her pregnancy signs.

  “Where is he?” Kell growled.

  “In his office, Majesty.” That was Captain Rill, perhaps the only man beside Jole that he trusted to keep his back in a fight.

  Kell stormed into the room. Michael bit back a smile. It was rare to see his father so out of control of a situation, and Michael had barely begun.

  He noted with satisfaction that Rill slipped around his father and took a place at Danellan’s side as he was ordered. Rill had one purpose in today’s events, keeping Danellan safe from harm.

  More people crowded into the room, and Michael scowled. He had hoped to keep this a private affair between himself and Kell, but it seemed that was not to be. Minn and her father, General Gree, were followed by one of Kell’s personal magistrates.

  “Mik,” Kell began coldly.

  “Michael,” he countered. “If you hadn’t taken me from my mother so quickly, you might have learned that Mik was a baby name Jenneane used for me. I am a man, and my true name was Michael.”

  Kell’s eyes widened. “Very well. You have put off your duty long enough. It has not been easy to salvage this contract for you.”

  “Send them away. I’ll never sign that contract.”

  Minn’s surprise melted into a feigned look of adoration that turned Michael’s stomach. She glided toward him, placing her gilded nails on his chest and running circles designed to drive a man to distraction.

  Michael took stock of her. Her hair was in a complicated mass of pins and curls. Her nails were too long to be of any use. Minn was undoubtedly waited on night and day by servants. Her face was heavily painted: pale powder on her cheeks, blood red on her lips, and deep blue to draw out her eyes.

  He compared that to Danellan. His bride’s hair fell loose in curls with only two gold combs as decoration, hair that welcomed Michael’s hands. Her face was bare save a protective balm on her lips, her sun-kissed cheeks, and her pure Fion-given beauty. She had short nails with a gloss of lavender that matched her dress, hands made for dressing children and undressing a mate.

  Michael pushed Minn’s hand away. “I never agreed to the contract, and I never will. Your agreement was with my father, not with me.”

  A flush of anger showed through the powder on her face. “I’ll forgive you deserting me and worrying me, Michael, but—”

  Michael scowled at her. “I won’t forgive you, Minn. And you will address me as Highness. You do not have leave to be familiar with me.”

  “Forgive me?” she bristled. “Whatever for? I only—”

  “I won’t have to lay eyes on him,” he mimicked her bracing tone. “The longest contract in recorded history. My contract allows me schaen. If it is intolerable, there is always Walla tea.” He laughed harshly at her shock. “You should have been more mindful of your surroundings, Minn.”

  Danellan gasped softly. No one else seemed to notice. His father and all his guests were locked on Michael to the exclusion of all else.

  Kell sent General Gree a sour look. “Be that as it may be, Michael. You have a duty. If not Minn, then—”

  Michael laughed harshly. “I’ve done my duty. I contracted two days ago.”

  Minn’s eyes locked on Danellan. Minn surged forward with a scream of rage. Michael wrapped an arm around her waist and hoisted her none too gently, carrying her back to her father and pushing her into the general’s hands.

  He placed himself between his bride and the howling shrew and addressed Minn coldly. “While I would love to watch my bride tear you limb from limb, I swore to protect her with my life. If you seek to harm her, you take your life in your hands. I suggest you remember it.”

  Michael nodded to the general and went to Danellan’s side. He took her hand and met his father’s eyes. “May I present my bride. This is Danellan, daughter of General Cro.”

  Kell darkened and flicked a pained look at Danellan.

  Michael tapped down his fury. Danellan was right. He really didn’t know her from any other woman on Kegin. “Yes. I know why you didn’t consider Danellan,” he growled at his father. “Your loss is my gain.”

  “Where is this contract?” he demanded.

  Michael motioned to the desk.

  Kell tramped to it and snatched the single sheet from the desktop. He waved it at Michael in disbelief.

  Michael kissed Danellan’s hand and arched an eyebrow at his father. “The magistrate assures me it is the shortest contract he’s ever written, perhaps the shortest in history.”

  His father scanned his eyes over the paper. He crumpled it. “Unacceptable. I use my right of non-allowance. This contract is void.”

  Danellan stifled what sounded like a sob.

  Michael squeezed her hand. “You can’t.”

  Kell pitched the paper into the fire. “I can and I will. That contract offers you no protection.”

  “It offers more protection than the one you allowed General Gree’s daughter. And legally, you cannot dissolve our contract.”

  His father’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “Danellan carries my child. You cannot dissolve a contract that has borne children unless one of us asks it.”

  Danellan laughed nervously, his push for a child before their return now clear to her. “We don’t,” she stated for them both.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Caj 27th, Ri 25-2989

  Michael looked up at the mother of the boy sitting on the table. “He should recover well now.” He smiled at his patient. “No more climbing iri vines?”

  The child laughed. “On Mag’s honor,” he promised solemnly.

  “Good boy.” He scooped the child up and handed him to his mother. “There should be no scar,” Michael assured her. “If you need anything, let the assistant at the desk know.”

  The woman bowed her head, her cheeks bright red in embarrassment. “Thank you, Prince Michael.”

  She’d need food and Walla tea at the least, he knew. He pasted on a smile, hoping that she’d ask for what she needed. If not, he would have to have it sent to her. He would not let his people suffer for fear of asking.

  “Those who have the gift should serve,” he reminded her.

  Tears shone in her eyes. “You are good to us.”

  “It is my pleasure, as it should be. Caring for my people will never be simply a duty.”

  She left, an
d Michael sank into a chair in the corner. He laid his head back and closed his eyes, rubbing a hand over the close-cut beard he grew for Danellan.

  “Hello, brother.”

  Michael smiled at Jole’s voice. “Still can’t remember, can you?” he teased.

  “No, but I am trying.”

  Michael crossed the room to hug Jole. “It’s good to see you.”

  His brother nodded grimly. “Summer festival will be held at the palace next week. Will you be there?”

  He grimaced. “So, Father has you running his messages now?”

  Jole sighed. “You know that’s not what I meant. I’m sure Father would like to see you there, but he knows better than to use me to convince you.”

  “I don’t know. It’s hours away, and Danellan—”

  “Has a month to go.”

  “Susan went early, and during a celebration.”

  “With twins,” Jole pointed out.

  “Danellan was early.” His arguments were getting thin, and I knew it.

  Jole sighed. “There is more to your position than addressing the council for reforms and healing children. The people look to us, even to you. You are a prince of Kegin, and you have found reasons to skip every major celebration since the one you fled.”

  Michael pushed a hand through his hair. “Kell is still unhappy. Danellan does not need to be harassed.”

  “He’s happier now that he has a young bride,” Jole noted slyly.

  They both laughed heartily.

  Michael wiped away a tear of mirth at the thought of his father’s marriage. “I wonder how long the contract is? Minn has a history.”

  “Probably the longest ever written, but I’d wager that it doesn’t favor her nearly as well as the one she intended.” He sobered. “Will you promise to come? The people need hope. Your mating with a Keen woman gives them hope for their implanted cross-bred sons.”

  Michael nodded. “As long as Danellan can—” He faltered, looking past Jole to Danellan standing in the doorway. He glanced to the clock and back to her face. She should be resting after her morning class.

  She was pale, her eyes wide. Captain Rill stood at her elbow, looking tense.

  “Michael,” she gasped.

  He pushed past Jole and touched her sweat-beaded forehead in concern. “What is it?”

  Danellan pulled his hand to the swell of their baby. Her muscles spasmed under his hand, and she groaned in response.

  “How far?” he asked calmly.

  “She still has her cap,” Rill informed him. “I brought her to you as quickly as I could.”

  “Michael, please,” she groaned, another ripple cascading through her abdomen.

  He nodded and swept her into his arms. “Rill, have them ready her room and summon her doctors.” He started out the door. Michael turned to Jole with a wide grin. “Tell Kell I will expect him here in a month’s time. It seems we will be throwing a celebration.”

  Jole nodded, swallowing a laugh. “Take care of her. I’ll take care of Kell.”

  *

  Wend 27th

  Danellan smiled at Michael as the crown settled on her head and Sayd, one of the church councilmen, gave his blessing to the newest princess of Kegin. The crowd roared their approval. Michael stepped forward with their daughter in his arms and his own crown tipped back jauntily on his head.

  Sayd smiled as he draped the sky blue silin cloth that represented Fion’s goodness over their child’s chest. He bowed his head and kissed her brow tenderly. “May you rule with Mag’s justice and Fion’s tender mercies. May you serve your people well as has your father before you.” He met Danellan’s eyes. “Name your husband’s child.”

  “She is Gibril Hir, daughter of Michael Hi, named for my mother, bride of General Cro.”

  The old man smiled. “So, she is. May Fion bless you with many more.”

  Michael shot her a heated look.

  Oh yes. As soon as the reception was in full sway, she and Michael would disappear to end the fast, to resume their sexual relationship.

  Danellan turned into a hug blindly and smiled shyly at Susan. Jenneane pulled at her mother’s skirt, and Joseph weaved through the crowd toward the stairs with Jole in pursuit. He snatched his son up and tickled the young prince as he tossed him over his broad shoulder.

  She glanced at Kell, standing at the edge of the dais with Minn at his elbow. Kell looked as if he wanted nothing more than to escape the chaos of his children and grandchildren. Minn looked smug and secure. Her contract must favor her greatly, Danellan decided.

  Danellan looked back to Michael, smiling openly at the sight of Gibby holding his finger in her tiny fist. Even Kell couldn’t ruin her mood today.

  Michael leaned close, laying a kiss under her ear. “Soon,” he promised.

  Danellan purred in response. “I can’t wait to get out of this dress.” The coronation dress was six layers of lace, silin and satil that made Danellan wish she’d never asked to wear any of it.

  “My pleasure. I will ask one favor of you.”

  “Which is?” she whispered.

  “Wear the crown.” His eyes sparkled in mischief, and his voice held a tone of invitation.

  “And a presentation dress,” she offered hopefully.

  Michael growled his approval.

  GLOSSARY OF KEEN TERMS USED IN THE BOOK

  NOTE: Keen is a lyrical language, and minor changes in pitch and inflection denote a slightly different word in the language. See next page for the Keen calendar.

  Chidan––- beloved

  Choc–––- a soft, brown color

  Eir–––– an evergreen tree that gives a thick sugary sap which is edible and used for bottling fruits

  Fion–––- Keen queen of the gods; Goddess of love, balance, and mercy

  Frelang–– freedom

  Geela––– a cliff-diving, carrion eating bird with gray and black feathers

  Gola–––- a plant that resembles mistletoe, Its berries produce a poison that induces miscarriage and kills if left untreated.

  Hi––––- prince, Your/His Highness

  Hir–––– princess, Your/Her Highness

  Hottel––— a horse-like creature (female pony-size and male Clydesdale size)

  Implin––— a Kegin fruit akin to a Bosc pear

  Iri––––- golden flowers that grow on vines as thick as a man’s wrist

  Jaglin––– large jaguar-like cats with thick black fur, dotted with gray spots as cubs

  Kit–––– breeding cattle, which are used for food

  Kittle––– a small, furry domestic animal like a cross between a kitten and a rabbit

  Lamor––— a fish that tastes like salmon but has blue-tinged meat

  Len–––— God of the underworld, vows broken, trickery, and havoc

  Lizor–––- a fragrant purple flower whose berries make a calming tea

  Mag–––— Keen king of the gods; God of justice, law, and vows unbroken

  Nuglin––— a noose-like hunting tool with a locking device, designed for capturing large carnivores like jaglin

  Olum––– a drug like an opiate that relaxes muscles and relieves pain

  Ri––––- king, Your/His Majesty

  Rig–––— queen, Your/Her Majesty

  Schaen––— a male harem that, in ancient times, was kept for the use of royal females; named for the Schen.

  Schen––– the insatiable sex drive of a pregnant Keen woman

  Schente––- a harem of sterilized women kept for the use of royal men

  Silin–––— a silk-like fabric that most women’s clothing and royal bedding are made from

  Sucre––– a thick sugar syrup from Eir trees

  Ti––––- conqueror, king who takes his land by force

  Triclum–– the drug used to treat gola poison

  Walla––– an herb that will act as a contraceptive when taken in a tea or used as a paste

  KEEN CALEN
DAR

  A year on Kegin is roughly equivalent to an Earth year. Days are twenty Earth hours long, but the year is separated into twelve months consisting of thirty-seven days each. A week on Kegin consists of eight of their days. I formatted the calendar as if the Keen year started in January like an Earth year. In reality, the Keen year begins in Endl. The end of winter and beginning of spring is a time of rebirth, and so it is the start of the Keen New Year.

  Pri––- January

  Ite––- February

  Endl–— March

  Wos–— April

  Zor–– May

  Fim–– June

  Jad––- July

  Caj––- August

  Wend–- September

  Abrin –- October

  Veril–– November

  Iric––— December

  About the Author

  Brenna Lyons lives in Haverhill, MA with her husband, three children, and a zoo of pets. She is a poet and novelist who has a poem on the cover of the upcoming Treble Heart release of Full Moon Inheritance by Jacqueline Elliott and twelve completed novels either on submission or happily at home with four separate publishing houses.

  Brenna enjoys the Society for Creative Anachronism and is a member of such groups as Broad Universe, EWR and BASF.

  Brenna holds a BS in Accounting and a Certificate of Computer Programming. Why? An auditing teacher commented that she would either “make the perfect auditor or the perfect thief,” and she had been writing for eleven years with little professional training — in effect, a thief of attention by misdirection.

  In the years since that fateful day, she has worked as an accountant and auditor, as a stock clerk and running a cash register, as a tutor, in child care for medically and developmentally special needs children, and as a writer — always as a writer.

 

 

 


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