To Make a Kinder Children's Tale

3: Althalos

Althalos Fourthborn lightly smacked the back of his head against the stone wall behind him in frustration-not for the first time today, either. The gentle tap sent a sound reverberating through his skull that sounded better than his superior chewing his backside out once again. Since the man was his cousin, these types of meetings ran informally. Reprimands were usually decisive, meeting swift punishment, but when you're a close kin and friend of the man over you, you got to be his attentive ear on top of any pain he was forced to meet out. Which meant that he couldn't take his beating and go-if there was to be any blows. He was more likely to be fined than touched, ever. Besides, it was usually he that met out the paddle's discipline as the only one who could hit hard enough to even make a beating worthwhile. He wished there was a wall to pound his head against for that job, as well.

"Just tell me why you let her go, again." Rileus had a bad habit of whipping around too fast for the collar points on his jacket, and was busy shaking his poor ears free from their duel, as he often did when he suited his name. It was almost funny, save for the power he held over Althalos' life. That was the only thing that kept him from cracking up in the middle of his exasperation. He wished he was free to laugh when things were genuinely funny. Too often it would send the wrong message, so he'd withhold his mirth.

"I get it. It was sheer stupidity on my part. But I did not expect such a creature in the middle of an operation, working against her own people's interest-especially as there's so few of them. I was too off-guard to capture her."

"So: this little thief waltzes in, exposes the trap we planned for months, and you let her go because she is your lifemate?" The pacing menace of the man belied his previous entanglement, but only just. Althalos had never seen his cousin raise his hand in anger against anyone, but he suspected that this could be the first time with one wrong move. Not that it would end in Rileus' favor, but if he dared maim the heir's heir he'd likely be exiled. Damned awkward business that would be. That, and he did love his cousin, somewhat.

"For the love of all that is holy, Rileus, she's not my life-mate. I'm hers. You damn well know we can't fall in love at first sight." His words were harsh, but his tone was pleading-had to be pleading. This conversation just wouldn't end.

"You better be right, Althalos." Rileus Septimal Firstborn practically wagged his finger under his cousin's nose. "I want the bitch squealing on the whole network. I want the thieves-clan gone."

"They're only half-animal, Rileus. The other half is as fey as our own. You could at least treat her with the courtesy you'd give a human-as she appears to be-and not treat her like a dog."

"Like a human? We ought to use her then discard her back to the hives."

"I may use her." Althalos paused there-giving his cousin the agreement he wanted-but knew that the rest would have to be forfeit. "But you know the law. She will be my wife."

"Not if you get her with child and into a cocoon. The damned butterflies don't stick around."

Althalos finally flinched visibly enough to capture Rileus' attention through his ire. "Neither is a guarantee. Anyway, she'll be forced to find me within three days, and I'll work on setting up anything and everything you want out of this. I just didn't expect my life to be thrown on it's rear, so to speak."

Rileus forced himself to calm, not wanting to hurt his cousin more than he already had and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I didn't either. The problem is I need something to tell the king."

"Tell Grandfather the truth. He's had a half-queen bride, once."

"And what happened to her?"

"She flew away, just as you said this one might."