to his father.
Eldrinson spoke quietly, but in a voice that brooked no argument. 'We have the shuttle outside. We will leave now.'
'Now?' Vyrl tensed. 'You mean Lily and me?'
'No.' His father's voice was firm. 'Not Lily.'
Vyrl went rigid, but before he could protest, Lord Rillia addressed Caul. 'I would be pleased if you, your wife, and your daughter would be my guests for a few days. I regret that this affair took place in my city. I hope you will allow me to compensate you for your troubles.'
Caul bowed to him. 'We would be muchly honored to stay with you, Your Lordship.'
'Wait!' Vyrl cried. Everything was moving too fast. 'I can't leave Lily here.'
His father crossed his arms. 'You will do as we say. I want no more argument.'
Vyrl protested anyway, but it did no good. His father and brothers marched him to the shuttle, and try as he might, he couldn't get past them. Lily strained to reach him, but both of her parents were holding her back now. With tears streaming down her face, she called to him. Vyrl went wild then, pounding at Althor with his fists. It was like hitting an immovable barrier. Neither his brothers nor father fought him, they just held him back. He felt everyone's dismay; no one liked tearing him and Lily apart. But it didn't stop them from loading him into the shuttle.
As the craft lifted off, Vyrl pressed his palms against the view screen. It showed Lily on the ground below, her face turned up as she watched the ship rise into the sky.
Sitting on the floor, wedged in a corner, Vyrl pulled his legs to his chest and folded his arms on them. Then he dropped his forehead onto his arms and sat in silence. He had come to this studio in the basement of the castle to work out, but he couldn't muster the energy. Since his parents had taken him from the cabin this morning, he hadn't even felt like speaking, let alone moving. He would have run into the plains, but they wouldn't even let him outside.
The footsteps were so quiet Vyrl didn't hear them until cloth rustled nearby. Raising his head, he saw his mother a few paces away. Dressed in a simple jumpsuit with her hair pulled back, she looked more like a farmer's wife than an interstellar potentate.
He spoke in a low voice. 'Is Devon Majda still upstairs?' She nodded, sitting gracefully on the gold-stalk floor near him. 'But the colonel who came down from the
Vyrl tried not to hide his fear. 'Will ISC send me to prison?' 'No.' She spoke firmly. 'But you will be expected to work at the starport until you pay off the damages you caused.'
Vyrl exhaled. As much as he disliked working at the port, his penalty could have been a lot worse. He forced out the harder question. 'And Majda?' Although he hadn't seen Devon yet, he felt the tension filling his home.
Her voice quieted. 'We may be able to mend the fracture between Majda and the Ruby Dynasty. But you and Lily did great insult to Majda.'
Vyrl had no excuses. So he said nothing.
Roca pushed her hand over her hair, pulling tendrils out of the clip. Compared to her usual elegant demeanor, now she seemed drained. 'A split between our family and Majda could destabilize the government.'
'Why? The Ruby Dynasty no longer reigns. We're just a bunch of farmers.'
'Do you really believe that?'
He met her gaze squarely. 'Yes.'
His mother paused. 'It is true that the Ruby Dynasty no longer rules the Imperialate. But we still wield a great deal of power. With that comes responsibilities. Our actions, policies, and alliances have great impact on the Assembly. We and they are inextricably linked. So is Majda, to us and to the Assembly.' She brushed back the tendrils of hair curling around her face. 'When we suffer discord, it weakens the Assembly, and so weakens the Imperialate.'
Vyrl thought of his father upstairs with Devon. 'So now we have discord with Majda.' He knew that, on an interstellar scale, the union of Majda and the Ruby Dynasty was far more important than the happiness of two young lovers. But that knowledge didn't lessen the pain in his heart.
His mother lifted her hand as if to lay it on his arm as she had often done in his younger years, offering comfort. When he stiffened, unable to accept her solace, she lowered her arm. Gently, she said, 'Devon is still willing to take you as consort, after we annul your marriage.'
Roca nodded. 'Yes. Despite that, she is willing to accept the arrangement.'
He clenched his fists on his knees. 'You can't annul my marriage.'
His mother frowned. 'Young man, we most certainly can. You and Lily are both underage, even for Lyshriol.'
He scowled at her. 'Then I can't marry Devon either.'
'You can with parental consent.'
'What, my consent doesn't matter?'
Her anger disintegrated. 'Hai, Vyrl. I am so sorry.'
He blinked. It was easier to be angry with his parents when they were angry with him. Sympathy and compassion were harder to handle. In a quieter voice, he said, 'I'm not a political arrangement. I'm a human being.'
'Yes. You are. A special, remarkable human being.' She indicated the room around them. 'What do you see here?'
Her question baffled him, and he couldn't tell from her mind what she was about. The room looked the same as always: large, longer than wide, and mirrors along one wall with a bar at waist-height. His athletic bag hung on the bar. The ceiling shed uniform light, leaving no shadows; the floor was gold-stalk, polished by years of use.
'It's just the dance studio,' he said.
She smiled. 'When you children were small, I practiced here everyday. For some reason it affected you more than the others.' She indicated an area by one wall. 'When you were a baby, you would sit in your carrier there and watch me, laughing and kicking your legs with the music.'
Vyrl had no idea why she was telling him this, but it brought back wonderful memories. He had taken his first steps in this room, trying to mimic his mother's dancing, which had seemed magic to him. From that day on, she had taught him what she knew, until seven years ago when she had brought in off-world instructors, including Rahkil Mariov.
He couldn't help but smile. 'I'm glad you didn't tell me to stop following you around.'
'I was delighted.' She gave him a rueful look. 'Your father was less pleased, to put it mildly. But we could feel how much you loved it, and he couldn't bear to deny you that.'
Suddenly he saw, or thought he saw, why she brought this up. 'Lily knows I dance. She has accepted it.'
A blend of emotions came from her mind, relief at his news, but also sadness. 'I'm glad. I can imagine how much that means to you. But I wasn't thinking of Lily.' She sighed. 'You're a bright young man, Vyrl, but in most things you have so little focus. Convincing you to do schoolwork is like trying to extract a tooth without benefit of modern dentistry.'
He grimaced at the apt image. 'School is boring. I can't put my heart into it.'
Her voice softened. 'Three times in your life, I've seen you pour your heart into something. The results have been incredible.'
Although he felt her sincerity, empathy could only tell him so much; her specific meaning eluded him. He indicated the studio. 'Do you mean this?'
'Yes. This.' She regarded him with a respect that startled him, particularly now, when he was in so much trouble. 'I wonder if you fully realize what you do. I know of few if any other dancers who have trained like you.'
He spoke dryly. 'Given that I'm probably the only man on the entire planet who dances, that doesn't say much.'
'I wasn't speaking of Lyshriol.'
