Happy
Ever After
Chapter One
By Cheezey
As he stepped out of the silver and black transport cruiser that had just landed at the estate’s mountainside manor home, Cossack glanced down and smoothed out the few wrinkles in his fleet uniform that it had acquired during the ride. Normally he was not one to fuss much over appearances, but being one of Doom’s nobility, he knew what they generally wanted and expected. That day, King Zarkon had ordered him to speak personally with each of the noble house high seats to invite them to the upcoming state meeting.
It had taken all morning and most of the afternoon to get through them all, and he was finally on the last stop of the nine on his list. He wished all of them had been as simple to invite as his parents, the high seats of his own house, had been. Unfortunately for Cossack, it seemed that rather than accept gracefully and say they’d show up, at least half of the nobles would rather huff and complain to him about how inconvenient it was to rearrange their busy schedules at the last moment for the king. Not that they would have had the guts to say that to Zarkon’s royal face, of course. The other half just wanted to bore him to tears by showing off this or that in their estate, or asking him how his family was, and oh, wasn’t he married yet?
That was a separate gripe of Cossack’s, that the nobles seemed to have a hang-up about any member of their circle over the age of twenty-five, especially one in a prominent position like being a head honcho in the military, not being married off and producing little nobles to succeed them. Since Cossack had not only well surpassed twenty-five and was firmly into his third decade, the remarks came fast and furious, to the point where he actively dreaded attending any of the nobility functions. If they were not dropping hints or giving snooty little looks that he was not permitted, under pain of lecture from the royalty and/or his mother, to tell them to go do something indecent to themselves for, they were busy trying to pawn off their daughters, sisters, or whatever other eligible ladies they could think of on him. While he did not have anything personal against the fine women he was set up with, the ones that were not as attractive as Haggar’s average robeast were inevitably insipid, high on themselves, or did not appreciate his, as Cossack considered it, brilliant wit and sense of humor. Additionally, he did not appreciate being nagged, nor all the pomp and ceremony that went along with the whole marriage deal.
As he approached the grand doors of the manor house that one of his predecessors, Yurak, had hailed from, Cossack briefly wondered if he, who had also been unmarried and a few years older than Cossack at the time of his demise, had put up with similar nonsense. Not that Cossack cared; he had never liked Yurak on a personal level because of his humorless and stern disapproval of him back when he had served under him, but he had the feeling that if he could have asked, it would have been a rare circumstance that both of them would agree on.
At least this is the last stop, Cossack thought has he hit the buzzer. He saved visiting the high seat of house Tonorm’oith, Lady Kuryaki, Yurak’s mother, for last. He knew her only by reputation and vague memory, and he felt slightly on edge. He had just come from speaking with the high seats of former commander Mogor’s house, and the reception toward him at house Garat’eth as the one who had been promoted to their dead son’s job had been less than warm. Cossack did not get what the big deal was, as he was not the one who had advised Mogor to make the brilliant decision to plunge headlong into the political mess that landed him on the fatal end of Lotor’s blade. But if he had learned anything growing up in the first circle of Doom’s nobility, it was that by and large, they had enough issues to fill the Pit of Skulls. He had no reason to assume Lady Kuryaki would feel any different toward him than Lord Galdor or Lady Morgiele, especially since Yurak’s end had been no less violent and sudden than Mogor’s.
The doors pulled open, and when Cossack saw no figure on eye level to greet him, he glanced down curiously. What stood before him was what could only be described as a walking metal teddy bear with fur. The creature stood as tall as Cossack’s mid thigh, and it was round and bulky, shaped like a bear of sorts that walked upright. Although it was made of metal and had robotic eyes and a light for a mouth, fur grew in tufts on its joints. It looked up at him, and its “mouth” blinked as a mechanical voice came from it. “May I help you?”
“Uh, yeah,” Cossack said, before remembering his manners long enough to stop gawking at the strange creature. He stood up straight and cleared his throat. “I’m Fleet Commander Cossack the Terrible, sent here personally by his Royal Highness King Zarkon to deliver a personal invitation to Lady Kuryaki, High Seat of House Tonorm’oith.”
“Please step inside.” The creature gestured for him to enter, and Cossack followed it into the foyer. On the far side of the hall, beside a grand staircase that led to a second level, Cossack noticed an immense portrait of Commander Yurak. The painting depicted the deceased first son of house Tonorm’oith in full dress uniform, with his glowing light sword held at his side. His face was stern, just like Cossack always recalled it being, and his eyes, both the natural and cybernetic one, stared down at him in a humorless and warning glare.
After looking at the painting for a moment, its eyes seemingly boring into him no matter where in the room he stood, Cossack shook his head. “Yeesh, he couldn’t even crack a smile for that,” he muttered under his breath as the creature that answered the door led him down the hall and into a sitting room.
It gestured to a set of plush chairs and a serving cart that had glasses, tumblers, and a few bottles of liquor on it. “Please make yourself comfortable while I get the lady of the house.” It then waddled out, leaving Cossack alone.
While he waited, he surveyed the drink cart. “Hmm, let’s see what she’s got in here.” The first things he saw were a bottle of wine—one of his family’s finest vintages, he noted—and a bottle of imported Tyrusian whiskey. That was premium liquor with a premium kick, and it seemed to Cossack like just what he needed after spending the better part of the day dealing with long-winded and stuffy nobility. He had no sooner poured himself a glass and taken a sip when he heard a voice behind him.
“A visit from King Zarkon’s fleet commander? And to what do we owe this unexpected honor?”
Cossack whirled around and found himself face to face with one of the nobility of the manor. She bore some resemblance to Yurak, although she did not have the canine-like ears that much of the Tonorm’oith clan, their departed first son included, sported. She also had a light coat of azure fur upon her blue skin, although it was noticeably finer and more silken than Yurak’s had been, and it cascaded seamlessly into a mane of hair that ended just below her shoulders. Her face held the same pupil-less golden eyes found in much of Doom’s nobility, tastefully adorned with light makeup. She wore a high-necked, form-fitting sleeveless dress that hung all the way to the floor and accentuated a curvy feminine frame. Around her shoulders was an expensive looking shawl of a shimmering translucent material, and she wore very little in the way of jewelry, aside from a platinum choker around her neck that set off the hue of her scarf.
An appreciative, if not somewhat flirtatious look crossed Cossack’s face when the attractive noblewoman approached, and he straightened as he regarded her. He remembered that Yurak had a sister, and he also recalled remarking years ago to one of his fleet buddies when he saw her briefly in passing that for having such an unattractive son, Yurak’s mother had not been too hard on the eyes, either. Still, Cossack had no idea that his sister was such a looker as well.
“Hello,” Cossack greeted the woman with his most charming smile. “King Zarkon sent me here personally,” he shifted his stance to a more impressive and dramatic one, “to invite Lady Kuryaki as high seat of house Tonorm’oith to an emergency summit meeting with the leaders of the first circle of nobility tomorrow.”
“I see,” she replied with a polite nod. “So you’re Fleet Commander Cossack. First son of house Aldar’ach, correct? We haven’t met formally, have we?”
Cossack sipped at the whiskey and nodded to her. “Yes, I’m Commander Cossack the Terrible,” he said, emphasizing his official-unofficial title as he did so.
She took few steps toward him. “Ah, yes. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”
“You have, huh?” He tried his best to be nonchalant, but he was unable to hide the smile that tugged at his lips at having his terribly ruthless and glorious reputation recognized.
“Oh yes. Just because this house doesn’t have anyone in the military circles these days doesn’t mean we don’t keep up on things. It takes notable accomplishment to win a Distinguished Skull, and to get a promotion to such a position as yours.”
Upon hearing that, Cossack’s smile broke into a full-fledged and proud grin. Praise and recognition was always sweet, but when it came from a pretty face, especially one related to a former superior that had always given him a hard time in the past, it was even sweeter. “Yeah, well,” he said smoothly, figuring that a bit of flattery and family ego-stroking back would not hurt, “I guess with your brother being in the fleet as long as he was and having earned a couple himself, you’d know all about it.”
She blinked at him. “My brother?”
The ol’ Cossack charm never fails, Cossack thought smugly as she came to his side, impressed with him if the smile she favored him with was any indication. Swishing the ice cubes and whiskey around in his glass, he leaned his hand on the edge of the drink cart, supporting his weight on it in what he thought was a casual yet suave manner as he answered. “Your brother Yur—”
“—Ack!” Cossack exclaimed, startled, as he leaned too heavily on the wheeled drink cart. It spun out wildly to the side, causing him to lose his balance and fall flat on the floor in a loud and ungraceful crash. His flailing limbs managed to catch the handle on the side of the cart, which led it to topple and dump its contents over onto the floor. Fortunately, most of the bottles were thick enough not to shatter on contact, but the open bottle of Tyrusian whiskey still poured out and soaked the rug, and at least two of the crystal glasses broke. As icing on the proverbial cake, the crystal tumbler of whiskey he’d had in his hands smashed to pieces on the floor beside him, spraying the shirt of his uniform with the liquor it once held.
Cossack looked up at the startled expression on the noble’s face and his own awkward position, and groaned at his own klutziness. Unable to think of anything even remotely appropriate to say, he gave her a sheepish look. “So, uh, that pretty much killed any chance of me impressing you, didn’t it?” He sighed. “Sorry.”
She laughed lightly and extended her hand to assist him up. “Don’t worry about it. The Berbils can clean it up,” she said as she helped hoist him to his feet. He smoothed his rumpled uniform out and shook a shard or two of glass out of his whiskey-stained cape while she surveyed his appearance. “They can clean your cape and shirt, too, if your schedule permits you to wait. I imagine you wouldn’t want to go before King Zarkon like this, anyway, right?”
“If you don’t mind, sure.” After that, he supposed he ought to stick around and make small talk and apologize to Lady Kuryaki when she showed up anyhow, and he didn’t mind talking to her daughter. Unlike the high seat’s son, the woman he spoke with seemed like friendly enough company, and Cossack wondered briefly why his mother never seemed to find prospects like that to set him up with. Then he realized the choker around her neck was probably a marriage adornment, and she was likely already married off. Figures, he thought as she reached up to help him take off his cape.
She took the cape and shouted out a strange name, presumably belonging to one of the robotic bear-servants, and then turned toward him as he pulled off his shoulder armor so he could get his shirt off. “It shouldn’t take too long.”
“He didn’t say I had to be back by a certain time, just to report back when I finished,” Cossack said as he started to peel off his shirt.
As he struggled to get it over his helmet, he heard her chuckle. “You could just take the helmet off, you know, Commander.” She helped him extricate it from where an edge had caught on one of his helmet’s horns.
“With how things have been going, I might break something else and regret it.” When she brushed against him as she took hold of the soiled garment, he noticed that she seemed to find what he said amusing, if her smile was any indication. Encouraged by that, he gave her a suggestive look, and conveniently pretended that he never noticed the choker on her neck. “So,” he began in a flirtatious tone, “I never knew that Yurak had such a pretty sister. What’s your name, anyway, and are you by any chance free tonight? I’m off duty, and I know this great place near Castle Doom...”
The noble laughed again, that time heartily, and faced him with mirth in her yellow eyes while she passed the dirtied cape and shirt to the servant that had returned long enough to take them off her hands. “Commander Cossack, I’m Lady Kuryaki. My daughter lives with her husband, and isn’t visiting, I’m afraid.”
Cossack’s self-assured smile melted quickly into a wide-eyed look of shock when he realized that he had just hit on Yurak’s mother, a woman who was easily twenty years his senior if not more, and the high seat of house Tonorm’oith, after breaking her liquor cart, no less. Whoops.
“Um, uh, well...” Cossack’s face flushed purple. “Lady Kuryaki, if I apologize and grovel well enough, is there any way I can convince you to not report this to King Zarkon? I think the whole point of him sending me out here to deliver the invite personally was so that the high seats of the houses wouldn’t be insulted.”
Kuryaki raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to apologize for considering me attractive enough to come on to?”
Cossack frowned as he realized he had inadvertently dug himself in deeper. “No, no! That’s not what I meant. It’s just that you’re older—”
“Old enough to be your mother, you mean?” Her tone was sharp as she stared back at him.
He sighed again. He could not think of anything even remotely witty to say that might bail him out of the hot water he had gotten himself into. He resigned himself to a forthcoming verbal lashing, not only from her, but probably also from King Zarkon and anyone else she might relay the story to, like his own mother. It would not be the first such lecture Cossack had received about speaking before he thought and odds were that it would not be the last. “I’m sorry.”
To his surprise, Kuryaki did not lay into him, but smiled back instead. “Don’t be, at least not about that. It’s rather flattering to have caught the eye of someone your age.”
“So does this mean you’re not mad about the mess?”
“I could’ve done without you breaking my crystal and soaking half a bottle of Tyrusian whiskey into my hand-woven Gloomite rug, but even if I am old enough to be your mother, you’re a little big to put over my knee and spank, Commander.” She gave him a wry look. “And I suspect someone with your ‘terrible’ reputation would probably enjoy it.”
That time it was Cossack’s turn to raise an eyebrow. If he had not known better, he would have sworn Yurak’s mother just hit on him that time, or at least cracked a joke, something her son had rarely done in the years he had known him. “If I may say so, Lady Kuryaki, you look pretty good for your age,” Cossack said, testing the waters. If she was not concerned about an age difference, then he certainly was not. His only criteria for a good time were that the lady be reasonably attractive, willing, and fun. “I really did think you were Yurak’s sister.”
Kuryaki’s smile widened. “I know. But fortunately for you, I wasn’t. Sekavi’s husband has a jealous streak, and I doubt he would’ve appreciated you asking her to dinner.” She beckoned for him to follow her. “Actually, I was quite young when I married, and not much older when I had my son. But the years have treated me well, and I suppose that’s consolation enough considering what they’ve taken from me... first my husband twelve years ago in battle, and then my son the same way barely a decade later. Did you know either of them?”
Cossack nodded. “Yurak was the force captain of my unit back when I joined the fleet.” He left out his personal opinion of him.
“He was a good soldier, the best of the best,” Kuryaki said proudly. “But that Voltron nonsense...” Her voice trailed off in a sigh. “Well, I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that. You have his job now, after all.”
“Voltron sucks,” Cossack agreed.
Kuryaki smiled ruefully. “Crude way to phrase it, but I can’t say I disagree.” She and Cossack walked through an archway. “Let me show you around while your clothes are cleaned, and you can tell me about this meeting King Zarkon called.”
* * *
Late the following afternoon, Cossack was fast asleep on the couch in his quarters when a robot sentry showed up and told him that Haggar wanted to see him in her lab. Grumbling and groggy, Cossack made his way down to meet up with her. She glanced up from her scrying crystal when she heard him come in. “It’s about time.”
“The robot only showed up ten minutes ago. Give me a break,” Cossack retorted irritably. “What do you need?”
“As you know, Zarkon called a meeting with the high seats of the nobility. He’s filling them in on the situation with Prince Lotor’s imprisonment, and making the formal announcement about his marriage to Queen Merla.” Her tone was not without a significant trace of bitterness.
Cossack also grimaced at the mention of Doom’s new queen. Like Haggar, he was no fan of Merla’s, although his reasons for loathing her were different. Haggar resented Merla’s place as Zarkon’s wife, while Cossack just disliked her for being an uppity pain in the ass that needed to be knocked down several pegs. “I’m sure they’ll be just as thrilled as we are that he married her. Is there any news about Prince Lotor?”
She shook her head. “Other than Galaxy Garrison reasserting their decision to have him executed for war crimes, no. Princess Allura’s plea to spare his life was rejected. Had it been on any other matter, I would’ve found some satisfaction in seeing that fool’s power being thwarted.”
He could tell that she was worried about Lotor. He was not as dear to her as his father, but she viewed Lotor as an extension of Zarkon, and since Lotor was his only son, she was loyal to him. Cossack was also concerned about Lotor’s situation. He had trouble believing that someone like Lotor was destined to meet such an inglorious end as a sentence and execution by the enemy, but unfortunately, things were out of their hands. Zarkon had given no orders to send in the fleet to free him by force, and in fact had issued ones to the contrary, forbidding them to act directly against the Galaxy Alliance. Supposedly that was because of some edict originating from the Drule Council. Whether all that meant that Zarkon was just waiting until he had a better plan in place, or that he had decided to wash his hands of Lotor for good and let Galaxy Garrison do the dirty work for him remained to be seen.
“Maybe Zarkon is getting some input from the nobility on the whole deal,” Cossack mused.
“Perhaps. Time will tell. One thing that is in Prince Lotor’s favor is the Galaxy Alliance is a bureaucracy through and through. Even sentenced, it’ll be weeks before any execution takes place, and that’s assuming it all goes through with no appeal and on time. Anyway, the meeting should be almost over. King Zarkon told me that he wanted to speak with us right afterward, so I sent for you myself. If you’re ready, we can head up.”
“Sure,” he agreed, and followed her out. When they arrived, the throne room was still closed and two sentries were posted outside, indicating that whatever was going on inside was a private meeting and no disturbances were permitted.
Cossack leaned back against one of the columns in the hall and let out a bored sigh. “How much do you want to bet someone is making some stupid speech or asking questions that no one cares about that King Zarkon or one of the others will make an equally long speech answering?”
Haggar cackled in amusement. “Your respect for the high seats of your nobility is underwhelming.”
“I respect them well enough. I just wish they’d learn to get to the point. Some of them are so old and senile they forget what they’re saying halfway through, only to start all over again. I know, because I had to see all the high seats yesterday to invite them to that stupid meeting, and Dasavar told me the same damn story about the statues in his ballroom three times.”
Haggar’s eyes fixed themselves intently on him. “From what I’ve heard, you don’t find them all old and boring.”
He straightened and looked back over at her, feeling slightly defensive. She could not possibly know about his run-in with Kuryaki, could she? “What do you mean by that?”
She grinned back cattily at him, but before she could say anything, the throne room doors opened and an entourage of nobles began to file out, chatting amongst themselves and separating Haggar and Cossack on opposite sides of the hallway. As he glanced over the crowd, Cossack spotted Lady Kuryaki in the middle of group. He watched her as casually as he could, wondering if she had told anyone about what happened the day before, and if so, what she said.
Just when he thought she would pass without acknowledgment, Kuryaki looked over at Cossack and made brief but direct eye contact. She gave him a mysterious smile before turning back to the noble she had been conversing with. He smiled back, but shifted nervously where he stood. He was still trying to guess whether or not she had said anything when he felt a hard thump on his back. “Hello there, son,” his father’s familiar voice boomed from behind. Cossack turned and saw his parents, Lord Tadack and Lady Visycka of house Aldar’ach, beside him with happy looks on their faces.
“Hey,” Cossack greeted them. He found their good mood puzzling considering what he knew the meeting was about, that it had run late, and that his father normally detested long meetings. “Uh, have a good time?”
“You know how it is with state affairs. Some good, some bad,” his mother while smoothing a stray lock of her hair—the same color and wild consistency as her son’s, only styled better—back into place. “But we couldn’t be happier with a little private deal we worked out.”
Tadack nodded in agreement with his wife. “I want you to stop by the manor tonight whenever you get off duty. We have some celebrating to do.”
Cossack looked back at his father blankly. “We do?” Must be some sweet deal, he thought, figuring that was why they seemed so happy. He was relieved that they made no mention of his visit to house Tonorm’oith. Perhaps Kuryaki had not said anything after all...
“Oh yes.” Visycka smiled, and out of habit straightened her son’s helmet. “We’ll see you tonight!”
With that, his parents moved on, leaving the confused Cossack and the quietly observing Haggar in the hall. “What was that all about?” he wondered aloud, absently shifting his helmet from how his mother had moved it.
One of Zarkon’s robots interrupted them. “The king will see the two of you now.”
They headed in, and when they approached the foot of his throne, Zarkon greeted them. “Glad you two could make it, and on time even,” he said, and then glanced at the timepiece nearby. “Or maybe Dasavar just ran his mouth longer than I thought. Anyway, I’d like to talk to you about the meeting.”
“Of course, sire,” Haggar said with a bow.
Cossack also bowed respectfully. “Lay it on us.”
“Absolutely. Oh, but before we get started, let me be the first to congratulate you, Cossack.”
Puzzled, he looked up at his liege. “Huh? On what, sire?”
“On what? On your engagement, of course! I had no idea that my spontaneous marriage to Merla would put the love bug in the air.”
“It put something in the air all right,” Haggar muttered, while Cossack stared back at Zarkon dumbstruck.
“What?” he choked out. “But I’m—”
Zarkon settled back in his throne. “There’s no need to be coy about it. It’s certainly not a secret with how your mother was gushing about it before the formal proceedings got started. Looks to me like she was real happy to marry you off.”
Haggar gave Cossack a curious look. “Things went that far?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Cossack said as an ominous feeling settled over him. He had a sinking suspicion that this had something to do with the celebrating his parents mentioned. He fervently hoped his mother had just had a bit too much wine—though in his family, that was a tall order—and was talking out of the bottle instead of hatching up a scheme to marry him against his will. “I’m not engaged. I don’t even have a girlfriend. Well, at least not one I’d marry,” he amended, his ego unwilling to allow it to be implied that being single was anything but his choice. “I mean, Cossack the Terrible can charm any woman he wants anytime!”
“Lady Kuryaki must have found you charming enough yesterday, then,” Zarkon said with clear amusement. “Considering she and your mother apparently finalized the deal over cocktails before the meeting.” He twirled his scepter in his hands. “I’d have never thought of her as your type, but who knows? Maybe she can whip some class into you, Cossack.”
Chortling, Haggar said, “That’d be beyond any mortal’s capabilities, I’m afraid. Although I can just imagine the look on Yurak’s face from beyond when he finds out that you’ll be his stepfather. I’d almost be willing to see that fool again just for that.”
Cossack did not see the humor in it, and he ignored their jibes while he tried to wrap his brain around what he had just been told. “But I just met her yesterday.”
“You move fast,” Haggar quipped.
“Anyway,” Zarkon continued, “you have my sincerest congratulations, and I’m sure if Merla was here, she’d give the same. Probably Lotor, too, but after all, he’s why we’re having this meeting, so we should move onto the business at hand.”
Haggar nodded. “As you wish, sire.”
Cossack was grateful for the change of subject. Devoting his mental energies toward a means to free Prince Lotor from death sentence by the Galaxy Alliance was a welcome distraction from trying to think up a way out of his own no-win situation.
* * *
Once the strategy session was over and he was dismissed, Cossack wasted no time in heading out to his family’s estate. Located in the lusher warm lands of Doom’s equator, the home of the high seats and family of house Aldar’ach was the magnificent centerpiece of the largest and most profitable Doom grape plantation on the planet.
Not bothering to knock or even announce his arrival, Cossack barged into the family home, past slaves and servants that knew him and bowed in respect to him as he passed. He found his parents and the two youngest of his siblings, his eleven year old brother Tadran and his eighteen year old sister Cassri, in the dining room, seated at the table. As was customary for the house, several decanters of fine wine were set out along with a selection of abundant and decadent finger foods.
When he came in, he slammed his hands down on the table. “What are you doing to me?” he demanded, his eyes blazing with outrage.
“Yeesh, you’re in a huff,” Cassri muttered sarcastically as she sipped at her wine goblet. A perfect blend of her parents in appearance, she had the slim build of their father and the same wild mane of hair that Cossack inherited from their mother, tamed into place by being tied into a ponytail with multiple bands. Cossack’s more muscular frame came from Visycka’s side of the family, and he was one of only two of his siblings that had inherited it. It was quite an advantage for beating them up when necessary.
“Hi Cossack,” Tadran, a short and lanky child with cropped gray hair and a smile even more impish than his eldest brother’s, said with a snicker.
Cossack glared at his siblings only for a moment before returning his attention to their parents. Visycka sighed and motioned to an empty chair. “Sit down, dear, and calm down. Have some food and wine.”
“I don’t want food and wine. I want to find out what the hell you’re railroading me into,” Cossack ranted, but sat down anyway.
His little brother began humming the wedding march, while his sister giggled mischievously. His parents ignored them both and faced Cossack calmly, paying little attention to his outrage. “So, who told you?” Tadack asked.
“King Zarkon congratulated me on my upcoming marriage,” Cossack said sulkily. “Imagine my surprise to find out about my engagement.”
“Well, son, it is time that you settled down.” Tadack took a savage bite out of his meaty appetizer.
“With Lady Kuryaki?” Cossack said incredulously, becoming even more agitated as it became clear that there had been no mistake or joke. On his way there, he had hoped against hope that was all it was, but it seemed that his parents were indeed serious.
Visycka smiled warmly at him and laced her fingers together, causing her expensive bracelets, one of which was the ostentatious marriage adornment she had received from Tadack years ago, to clang together in front of her goblet. “She’s a lovely and respectable lady. When you think about it, she’s ideal for you, and you’ll make a fine pair. I just wish you’d told me sooner that you preferred a more experienced woman as opposed to some young girl, Cossack. If I’d have know, I’d have considered the widows of the nobility in finding a bride for you from the start.”
“At least now we know for sure he’s not gay,” Cassri chimed in helpfully.
Cossack shot his younger sister a death glare. “If all women were like you, I’d consider it.”
Her mature reply was to blow him a raspberry and drink more of her wine, while Visycka motioned for one of the servants to bring him a drink. Cossack took it and chugged most of it in one unceremonious gulp. “So when were you going to tell me that I was engaged?”
“Tonight, of course,” Tadack told him. “Why do you think we asked you to come out here on such short notice? We know how busy you are.”
“He’ll be busier soon making wedding plans,” Tadran snickered to Cassri, who dissolved into mutual giggles with him.
That time the glare Cossack cast his siblings was accompanied with a warning snarl before he turned back to his parents. “Do I even get a say in this?”
Visycka arched an eyebrow at her objecting son. “Every other time we’ve given you a say, you say ‘no.’ What would you have said this time?”
“No!” Cossack bellowed back in frustration, as if the answer should have been obvious.
“Exactly,” his mother said. “I think you’re just trying to be difficult, Cossack, so we just skipped that tedious step this time. You know you have to get married sooner or later.”
Cossack frowned. “I do?”
“We all do,” Tadack informed him with a stern look. “It’s our duty in keeping the noble lines strong. We’ve told you that.”
“But this time you’re not even giving me a choice about who I marry!”
Letting out a sigh, Visycka leaned forward against the table and met Cossack’s gaze. “We’ve given you plenty of choices, and you’ve turned them all down. Every single one for almost fifteen years now.” She shook her finger for emphasis as she spoke. “So now we’re taking the pressure of making the choice off of you. Besides, you obviously liked her yesterday if you hit on her.”
“I was just thinking about dinner and getting her in bed,” Cossack argued.
“Well, you got to start somewhere,” was Tadack’s equally blunt response. “Might as well marry someone you want to sleep with in the first place, otherwise the nights will be real long.”
Cossack tightened his grip on the empty gold goblet in his hands and fought the urge to strangle that family loyalty prevented him from acting upon. “Don’t both she and I have to agree to this wedding for it to happen?”
Tadack leaned back in his chair. “Lady Kuryaki’s all in favor of this marriage. You both stand to gain quite a bit from it, you know. She and your mother had a nice talk about it before the state meeting. Kuryaki said she found you to be, and I quote, ‘a real charmer.’” He grinned and then added, “Of course, being our boy, how could you not be?” Tadack then folded his arms and put his feet up on the table, relaxing contentedly.
“You do like her, don’t you?” Visycka pressed.
Thoroughly enjoying Cossack’s predicament, Tadran chimed in, “Yeah, Cossack, you can’t go saying this one looks like a robeast or uglier than Witch Haggar like you did the last one.”
“That’s because that last one did look like a robeast, and she had claws and a personality to match,” Cossack retorted before responding to his mother’s argument. “And what if I said I didn’t like her after all, and only wanted to use her for sex?”
“I’d say it was a shame, since you’re going to be marrying her soon regardless, and she probably won’t find that attitude very charming. You’ll be off to a rocky start,” Visycka countered.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with starting things off a little heated,” Tadack said, and reached over to squeeze his wife’s shoulder. “Back when we got married, son, we couldn’t stand each other. Remember that, honey?”
Visycka nodded and smiled. “I think it was the sex. Well, that and plotting revenge against our parents, that brought us close like we are now. And while it was a bit of a rough adjustment,” she said, her fleeting wince momentarily betraying the optimism in her tone, “see how well things worked out for us? Well over thirty years and still together, and both alive,” she declared proudly.
“Yeah, but you’ve been drunk for the last thirty years, too,” Cossack muttered before trying another tactic. “Besides, no matter what I think of Kuryaki, she’s still Yurak’s mother. Yurak! Dog-face! The guy who gave me and Yaklitz hell in fleet boot camp from day one.”
Cassri frowned at her brother. “I thought that was Vardash.”
“No. Vardash sucked, but it was Yurak he sucked up to,” Cossack said. “I think he had a crush on him.”
“Well, he was kind of cute,” Cassri said with a shrug.
“Vardash?” Visycka turned to her daughter with a curious look. “You know he’s not married...”
“Yeah, ‘cause he’s as gay as they come!” Cassri made a face that indicated horror at the thought of being foisted into such a union. “I meant Commander Yurak. Well, before he died, anyway.”
Visycka waved her hand in reassurance. “Relax, dear. It was just a thought.”
“Yeah, right. I’ve heard that one too, and look where I am,” Cossack sneered bitterly. The conversation was cut off when two servants came in and put a tray of sweets out on the table for the family, but resumed after they exited. Cossack helped himself to a chocolaty pastry, which he dipped in his refilled wine glass before taking a ferocious bite to console his sour mood. He then tried another angle. “Mom, the incredible awkwardness of me marrying the mother of a former superior officer aside, doesn’t it bother you to see your firstborn son marry a woman older than you?”
Picking up a spoon, Visycka stirred some cream into her spiked coffee. “Actually, dear, Kuryaki is a few years younger than I am, even though her son was older than you. Sevakor married her right when she came of age. Unlike you, he liked the young virginal types.” She sipped at her drink, and looked over at Cossack imploringly. “Cheer up, dear. This is a wonderful opportunity for you, and for our entire family. Don’t you know what a tie to Tonorm’oith’s interplanetary contracts could do for our marketing? Not to mention that marrying her will make you one of the acting high seats of house Tonorm’oith for the rest of your life. Do you know how many men have courted her just for that in the years since Sevakor passed?”
“Yeah, you don’t even have to wait until we croak to reap the benefits of that status,” Tadack pointed out with a grin on his mustached blue face that Cossack found downright evil in its smugness.
Visycka nodded along with him. “Think about the prestige that means for you.”
“Uh-huh,” Cossack nodded with them. “Think of the prestige for my two parents, marrying off one kid to be a high seat of another noble house and passing on a title to another after they’re gone. Think of how they’re getting one of their kin into voting position of another noble house by exploiting marriage ties. Because how many high seats can claim that they have two blood offspring that’ll be high seats without either having their kids bumping each other off after they’re gone or by breaking the three generation rule and marrying them to each other? Never mind that they’re selling their beloved firstborn off to the highest bidder!” he finished with a melodramatic shout.
“Sell you off? Boy, the way you’ve carried on, it’s damn near impossible to give you away,” Tadack shouted back. “Consider yourself lucky you got yourself a hot one, take the offer, and run with it.”
“Don’t forget your voting power as a high seat will give you the chance to influence state affairs outside the sphere of the military. Surely you can see the benefit in that?”
“Just what I’ve always wanted, Mom. The chance to attend long meetings where you have to wear fruity clothes and sit around listening to boring people chat politics,” Cossack groused, his tone getting whiny in its desperation.
At that, Tadack laughed. “Right, son, and next you’re going to try and tell us that as fleet commander, you don’t have to sit through boring meetings already on the military front? I’ve met with the high admirals on occasion. I know how long-winded they can be.”
Cossack frowned. “Yeah, but at those meetings at least I’m paid to be bored and I can wear my uniform, not a suit or one of those gods-forsaken frilly collars. Which,” he glanced severely at his mother, “I am most certainly not wearing at any wedding I may have in the future.”
“Oh, so you do agree to the marriage then.” Visycka brightened into a smile. “Wonderful!”
“No I don’t!” Cossack bellowed, rising to his feet and slamming his hands down on the table again. “I’m not getting married!”
“Of course you are.” Visycka’s tone was completely dismissive, as if she had not even noticed his tantrum. “I’m sure the two of you will be quite happy together. You should go and visit her soon, so you can get to know one another better.”
Both Cassri and Tadran dissolved into unashamed hilarity at the irate and dumbstruck look on their oldest brother’s face. When he turned to glare at them, Tadran just laughed harder and hummed the wedding march again, that time louder and more obnoxiously.
Furious, Cossack whirled around and took two large strides to his little brother’s seat, and hoisted him out of it by his neck. “Laugh it up, flower boy.” He glared at him “You’ll be in for this in a few years. Oh, and I assure you, if I am forced to marry Kuryaki, you’ll be wearing the laciest, girliest, frilliest collar I can find, since I don’t have a sister young enough to be a flower girl, and she sure as hell doesn’t.” He paused for a moment and then added, “Or maybe I’ll just make you wear a dress.”
Tadran quickly lost his sense of humor for the situation in Cossack’s death grip, and flailed helplessly. “I don’t want to wear a dress or a collar!”
“I don’t want to get married, but it seems we all have to do things we don’t want to in this family, so you might as well get used to it early.”
Visycka let out a heavy sigh. “Cossack, put your brother down.”
He looked from his mother to Tadran. “You’re a little pain in the ass, and none of us ever liked you.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Visycka’s voice was stern. “Let him go.”
“Of course.” Eyes gleaming vindictively, Cossack started for the door, intent on letting him go all right—right off the second story balcony.
“Lower him slowly to the floor and gently release him, Cossack. Don’t make me ask you again.” That time Visycka’s tone was very harsh and no-nonsense, and it was one that everyone in Cossack’s family, including the “Terrible” commander himself, knew not to challenge.
“Fine, Mom.” Grumbling, Cossack turned and dropped Tadran, not quite as gently as his mother demanded, but not roughly enough to get a reprimand, and he skittered back to his seat while Cassri stifled a giggle. Narrowing his eyes, Cossack stared her down. “Keep laughing. You aren’t that far off, either. Don’t think for a minute that Mom hasn’t made a mental note that while Vardash is a no-go, you found Yurak’s dog face attractive. She’s probably planning to set you up with his cousin or something right now.”
Visycka set her empty cup down on the table. “Oh ,don’t be silly, Cossack. If my memory serves correctly, most of his cousins are already married.”
“Besides, son, this isn’t about your sister’s wedding. It’s about yours,” Tadack told Cossack, who continued to feel sorry for himself and slumped over in defeat against the table. His helmet connected with it forcefully enough that the resounding clang rattled the crystal and silverware. “Like I told you before, we all have to get married sometime.”
“What if I was gay?” Cossack whined from his prone position on the table.
Cassri blinked in surprise. “Are you?”
“Hah! You owe me five bucks after all,” Tadran said triumphantly to Cassri.
That made Cossack look up and over at his siblings in disbelief. “You had a bet going on my sexual orientation?”
Cassri tapped her spoon. “Well… we were all trying to figure out the real reason why you didn’t want to get married.”
“All?” Cossack repeated incredulously. “Who else was in on it?”
“All of us. Well, not Mom and Dad, but me and Tadran, and Stryck, Sulestri and Zalik were in on it, too,” she explained, referring to the other two siblings of the family, older than herself and Tadran but younger than Cossack, and to his brother-in-law. “I bet that you were straight and were just chicken shit when it came to marriage, but Tadran was sure you were gay. Stryck did too, but since Tadran already had that covered, he laid his money on that you being bi and just afraid to commit.”
“And Sulestri and Zalik?”
Cassri made a face. “Well, uh… they kind of thought you were, um, secretly involved with someone in Castle Doom who would get really jealous and that you were afraid to make mad.”
His look of shock changed to one of irritation. “Who?”
“Witch Haggar,” Cassri mumbled with a giggle. When utter horror and outrage flashed across Cossack’s features at the notion, she held up her hands in protest. “Hey! I didn’t think it! If it makes you feel better, she owes us money since it’s not true.”
“And I just thought you were gay!” Tadran said, and then leapt out of his chair to duck behind his sister’s in case Cossack got angry again. “Are you?” he asked, peeking his head from around the back.
Tadack shook his head at the exchange between his offspring before returning his attention to Cossack. “Well, son, if you were gay, it wouldn’t change anything. You’d still have to get married and have an heir or two. I’d just advise you to find yourself a nice pool boy to keep you entertained in the meantime.”
“Well, I’m not gay anyway, but it was worth a try,” Cossack muttered with a sigh.
Visycka smiled at him “I know, dear, and I’m glad. It’ll make your marriage so much smoother if you don’t have to sleep around to stay happy.”
The burden of defeat continued to sink heavily upon him. “So basically, no matter what I say or do, you’re going to insist that I marry her, huh?”
“Pretty much, yes,” said Tadack.
Cossack realized that he was fighting a losing battle with the formidable enemy that was his unified parental forces, so he decided to opt for a strategic retreat and regroup. There was more than one front upon which he could fight that war, and his alternate plan had worked in the past when his parents were that gung-ho about a marriage arrangement. “Fine,” he said finally, and rose to a standing position. “Since I’m supposed to marry her in a couple weeks, I guess I ought to go and have a chat with my fiancée.”
Visycka stood and gave him an affectionate hug. “That’s a wonderful idea. Give our future daughter-in-law our warmest regards.” She glanced at the wine rack in the corner of the room, and withdrew one of the finer bottles. “And bring this with you as a gift. Might as well woo her with all the charm such a prominent marriage deserves.”
Obligingly Cossack hugged his mother, a cruel and scheming mother, in his opinion, but one he still cared for nonetheless. She smiled back at him and straightened his helmet. “My terrible terror is finally getting married,” she sniffled happily. “Be sure to visit us again soon. And call! You never call your mother often enough.”
“Mom, I’m the fleet commander of planet Doom. I’m a busy guy.”
“Not too busy to call your mother more often.”
“Okay, okay,” Cossack agreed, and patted her gently on the back as she hugged him again.
Tadack waved from the corner. “Have fun, son, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“See you later, Cossack,” Cassri called out, also waving to him. He waved back to his family and then, with the wine in hand, started out the door.
Tadran grinned smugly at his departing form. “See you at the wedding.”
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