“I had one sibling,” he says. “A brother. And he died young and badly. And I hated that guy. I knew I did. I knew he was beyond my help. I knew it was too late to be back in each other’s lives. I knew all that, right until I was holding his hand while he went away forever. And then I found out I hadn’t known a thing.”
She sighs. “I see where you’re headed.”
“The kind of stuff we used to fight about was owing me money and getting into trouble with cops. Little things. I know that for you and Sykora, the stakes are way higher. I can’t pretend like we’re similar. And I get that your fights and disagreements are just how Void Princesses are, but this—”
He rests a hand atop his daughter’s silky head.
“This isn’t,” he says. “This is uncharted. This is our big chance to break out of the Void Princess rivalry bullshit and figure something else out.”
“We have hurt each other very badly, Grant.” Narika rocks Aurora gently. “I know from where you’re sitting it seems like I must be the monstrous one. I won’t waste your time arguing my case to you. But I cannot forget what she’s done.”
“That’s not what I’m asking for,” he says. “I can change her behavior, or try to. I already have, sorta, right? You told me so. But I can’t change yours. I want you there all the time. I want them to grow up with the coolest aunt in the fucking firmament. But I can’t do that, the way things are right now. I forgive you. I think I can get Sykora to forgive you. I need you to forgive her, too.”
Narika hums absentmindedly. “Forgive her.”
“That’s right.” Grant hopes she was listening at all. Her focus on Aurora is so all-consuming that a part of him wants to take his daughter back.
“My niece,” she murmurs. “I’m an aunt, and this is my niece. I have…”
She trails back into stillness.
“A family,” Grant says.
Her mouth moves, but whatever response she intended hooks itself in her throat. She takes a moment to compose herself. “Please inform your wife that I will relinquish my designs on Ptolek,” she says. “No protestation. Not today.”
He touches her shoulder. “Thank you.”
“I only do so as a favor to you and your children, Grantyde. If I didn’t, she’d neglect all four of you in her zeal to destroy me.”
“The reason doesn’t matter to me,” he says. “Thank you, sister.”
A flicker beneath her resolute impassivity. Her lip twitches. She lifts Rory toward him. “Excuse me, please, Grantyde. I have to—excuse me.”
“Sure.” He gingerly retrieves his sleeping daughter and Narika stands and hurries from the room, her severe heels rapping on its tile. She shoulders through the waiting room door and disappears into the hallway beyond.
Grant surreptitiously looks through the door panel. The Princess of the Glory Banner is a dozen feet down the hallway, leaning on the wall by a drinking fountain, covering her face with both hands and shaking like a leaf.
He turns from her and curls his baby girl closer up against him. He stands and steps through the threshold into the room where his wife sleeps with their children in her arms.
![[+]](/images/collapse_collapsed.png "[+]")
A family.