Chapter 25
“Be nice to Zul,” Gil said as he and Bran bade their mate and their son goodbye two days after the festival.
Zul stood behind their mate, his hand resting possessively on her shoulder.
Crow huddled against his mother’s leg, his hand tightly clutching her vivid blue skirt.
He’d bade goodbye to his fathers all too often already in his young life.
“When are you coming back?” Ursula asked again because they hadn’t answered the question the first six times she asked. Perhaps the seventh time was the charm.
“We don’t know, elska’adir,” Bran replied. Honesty compelled him to finally admit, “We might not be able to return.”
Ursula paled, her usual pink complexion going ashen. “Are we at war again?”
“Still,” Bran corrected her, his voice gentle if somber. “But, no, we have not been deployed. We are…”
His voice died away as he searched for the right words.
Gil rescued him. “We’re headed to the capital for political reasons.”
Liberté, égalité, fraternité, she thought and whispered, “Who’s playing Napoleon?”
“Napoleon?” the two males echoed in confusion.
“Nevermind,” she said with a wave of her hand.
“I’m not stupid. I know all those secret discussions I’m not supposed to be aware of have had something to do with politics.
I know you—and I—have been unhappy with the Council Supreme’s machinations to reassign fertile brides to unbroken triad and dyad bonds. ”
Gil, Zul, and Bran exchanged glances over her head.
“You’re very… perceptive,” Zul murmured, his hand tightening on their mate’s shoulder.
“Like I said: I’m not stupid.”
All three males winced at her acerbic tone.
She explained how she came to her insight: “If you’re engaging in political activity that may result in you being unable to return home, then it means you’re engaging in illegal activity, possibly sedition or even treason.”
“As he said, you’re perceptive,” Bran acknowledged with grim pride. “You must say nothing to anyone.”
She nodded. “I can keep a secret.” She paused and frowned before asking, “Would the authorities even think of questioning me, a lowly and stupid female?”
“They might not, but Zul will not take that chance,” Bran said. “If everything goes wrong and we do not effect the change we desire—”
“And what change is that, exactly?” she interrupted.
Bran hesitated. Gil’s lips remained pressed in a thin line. So, Zul answered her with blunt candor: “A new Council Supreme.”
Ursula nodded with surprising equanimity. “Treason then.”
“I expected more of a reaction,” Gil finally commented.
Ursula shrugged. “The country I’m from basically came into being as a sovereign nation due to treason.
The USA rebelled against England over the issue of taxation without representation.
” She glared at the two males standing before her.
“And I’ll be extremely disappointed in you both if you succeed in your aims and don’t work to grant women some God-given rights. ”
The three males again exchanged speaking glances.
“If we fail,” Bran said, his tone measured, “then you and Crow will go with Zul. He will protect you.”
Ursula nodded, understanding that if they failed they would face execution for their crimes.
“You’re brave,” Zul complimented her after Bran and Gil hugged and kissed her and Crow.
“Not really,” Ursula said as she watched them climb into the brick-shaped conveyance that defied all laws of physics and would fly them to the Urib version of a subway which would then propel the conveyance to the capital at high speed.
“But I know they’re doing what they think is right and just, so I must support them.
The Council Supreme is corrupt and needs to be replaced—preferably on a regular basis. ”
Zul stared at her. What strange philosophy was this?
Turning toward him as the vehicle lifted from the ground and rose with ponderous grace into the sky, Ursula correctly interpreted his expression and said, “In my homeland, citizens vote for our political leaders. It’s a civic duty, although no one is compelled to exercise that duty.
I feel obligated because a lot of women suffered and even died to earn me that legal right to vote.
I hope to see women acquire such political suffrage in my lifetime here on Uribern. ”
Zul blinked in astonishment. “Women—females… did what? Protested? Rebelled against the natural order?”
His mate sighed and decided a short history lesson was in order.
“A century before I was born, women had few, if any, rights. Only under certain specific circumstances could women own property: they were, in essence, chattel themselves. Women even ceased to exist as legal entities upon marriage and only became legal entities again when widowed.” She paused at Zul’s puzzled expression and forebore to give him a much-abridged summary history of Western civilization and political philosophy.
“Regardless, women comprised half the population and had no say in the laws affecting them. Thousands of women protested and lobbied until they were finally granted the right to vote. That was just the first step.”
“First step?” Zul echoed in awe of the ferocity of human females. “There’s more?”
Ursula gave him a grim smile. “Oh, yeah, there’s more. A lot more.”
He shook his head. “No wonder you are so fierce.”
She smiled at him. “And I hope you appreciate it.”
He nodded, fearing her reaction if he expressed disapproval. Truly, he thought, I need to read more about my mate’s people and their history.
“Let’s go in, Mama,” Crow whined, pressing his face against her leg.
Ursula dropped into a squat and wrapped her arms around her son, knowing he was sad, knowing he did not understand why his fathers were leaving again. “Shall we play in the courtyard, sweetie?”
The boy sighed, sniffled, and shook his head. “Don’t wanna.”
“All right,” she said, rubbing his back. “How about we go to the library? I’ll read you your favorite stories, and we’ll get Suvesh to bring us some hot cocoa?”
Crow perked up. “With marshmallows?”
She smiled tenderly at him. “Is there any other way?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“Marshmallows?” Zul parroted, wondering what they were talking about.
Rising to her full height which was much shorter than Zul’s, Ursula took his hand in hers and said, “Let me introduce you to one of the seven wonders of the universe: hot cocoa.”
“And marshmallows!” Crow added as he grasped his mother’s other hand. As they began walking back toward the manor, he asked, “And can we have cookies?”
“Tonight, we’re throwing out the rules,” Ursula said with a soft smile at her son. “Do you remember what that means?”
“No vegetables!”
“That’s right. We’ll eat what we want and go to bed when we feel like it. But the rules start again tomorrow morning, remember?”
He nodded. Days without rules helped ameliorate the melancholy of his fathers’ departure.
“Do you do this often, elska’adir?”
“Only on the days when Bran and Gil both leave—and not always then. You weren’t with us when we last decided on a no-rules day.”
Zul nodded, assuming he’d been in the library or wandering about the grounds when that had happened.
He hadn’t noticed at the time any raucousness or evidence of festivities.
Indeed, his mate and her son apparently kept their no-rules days quiet, focusing on comfort rather than entertainment.
He could not deny them that solution to their solemn worry, so he decided he would join them. “What are cookies?”
Crow’s eyes widened. “Cookies are… are… the best things ever!”
Ursula grinned and explained, “Cookies are baked goods, treats where I come from. Gil makes sure we always have a supply of chocolate chips on hand, so you’ll get to experience chocolate chip cookies today.”
He gave her a suspicious look.
“I spoke to Suvesh this morning. He’ll have long since notified the cook.”
“These cookies do not take long to make?”
“Not really. And, given the enormous ovens our kitchen has, the cook can make several dozen at a time.” Ursula redirected her attention to Crow. “Do you want milk to drink with your cookies? I think milk’s the best with cookies.”
The boy nodded. “Yes, milk! Earth milk!”
“Milk?” Zul repeated, now fretting that his mate was unknowingly feeding her son foreign substances that his Urib body could not digest and would make him ill. “What is this Earth milk?”
“Milk usually comes from cows or goats, although some cultures drink the milk of camels, sheep, and horses. I prefer to drink cow’s milk; it’s much less…
pungent. Gil gets fresh milk shipped in from Earth.
It’s outrageously expensive, but that jerkwad, Argosie, owes me, and he knows it.
Anyway, since Gil goes to the effort of getting milk sent to Uribern, I make sure that he specifies the good stuff. ”
“What’s the good stuff?” Zul asked, now genuinely curious.
“Jersey milk.” She gave him an impish smile. “There ain’t nothing else like it.” She looked at her son and said, “We’ll do milk and cookies now and have hot cocoa with marshmallows after supper. How does that sound?”
Crow nodded and smiled.
Zul figuratively girded his loins for the worst as they climbed the stairs to the manor’s imposing front entrance. “I will have to try this milk and cookies.”
“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
A castratus opened the door and stood aside while his mistress, her Bridge, and her son entered.
Ursula thanked the castratus, relying on the good manners taught to her in childhood to show appreciation rather than taking his service for granted.
A sweet, rich, alluring aroma wafted through the large building.
Zul inhaled and his mouth watered. “Is that—?”
“It is.” Ursula inhaled deeply and sighed with pleasure as they turned down the corridor that led to the manor’s vast kitchen. “Chocolate chip cookies for everyone.”
Zul was not surprised that his mate would share these delectable-smelling treats with the castrati. “These treats will not upset Crow’s digestion?”
“A couple of cookies won’t hurt,” she said. “That’s all he’s permitted to eat at a time.”
“Ah, so no-rules day does have some rules after all.”
She nodded. “No rules in moderation, of course.”