Kairos 69: Family Planning

The temple of Histria had fallen silent, as Julia digested her husband’s message.

She gazed at his statue, his [Idol], and at the Stymphalian birds perched atop it. The night was cold, with only the pale moonlight going through the windows to provide her with some light.

Kairos’ [Idol] radiated waves of emotions, using the same system of communication he used to tell her of Prince Hadad’s proposal. It was a long and time-consuming process, and his message was short.

“SO?” She translated her husband’s message.

“So these upjumped merchants presume too much,” Julia replied with coldness.

She should have expected it. Her husband was a rising star, and the fact he had taken a concubine set a dangerous precedent. Polygamy was useful to form alliances in the short term, but it always led to disastrous infighting in the long run by creating factions. No doubt Prince Hadad wanted to see one of his descendants on Travia’s throne, and offering his sister as a gift was but the first step towards reaching that goal.

But her husband had thankfully refused the proposal, and Julia was pleased that he valued their marriage enough to seek another solution. She knew Andromache had probably mattered just as much in Kairos’ decision, but the fact that his wife was the first person he informed of the negotiations showed that he valued her opinion.

“I could… accept Andromache because I had Caenis, and neither had any political ambitions that could threaten our children’s future,” Julia admitted. “Our current arrangement will not cause any dynastic or political strife. But a Valian princess is another matter entirely. Her brother is doing the same thing he did with his father, trying to plant an agent in your bedroom.”

The princess would do everything to advance her country’s interests, and probably scheme to take Julia’s position as wife. True, the price of the prince’s military support appeared cheap at first glance, but it would prove more expensive than expected.

“On paper, the proposal is interesting in the short-term, but not in the long one,” she explained to Kairos. “There can only be one ruler of Histria after you. The moment the Valian princess gives birth to your child, she will scheme to put it above ours in the line of succession. This will cause dynastic instability in the long term. True, we need troops to defend ourselves now from Mithridates… but there is nothing more vicious than a civil war, especially since each line will be supported by a different country. Do you truly want to see our realm torn apart by power games between Lyce and Vali?”

And then there would be Andromache’s reaction. Julia had enough self-control to act with subtlety, but the Scylla could barely resist the urge to incinerate one romantic rival. The presence of another would make her do something stupid, which would cause a lot more problems down the line than simply turning down Hadad’s proposal.

“Prince Hadad is more cunning than you think, my husband. He knows you are nervous about Zama, and he exploits your unease to make you blind to the arrangement’s long-term consequences. Take a step back, look at this carefully, and try to examine our other options.”

The [Idol] remained inactive for a moment, and Julia cursed this method of communication. She could never know if her husband was still alive on the other side. But after a few minutes of silence, the statue radiated more emotions.

“OPTIONS?”

“You have other marriage candidates to offer,” Julia pointed out. “Tiberius might be a lesser son of Dispater, but he is still the scion of a powerful Lycean bloodline. Cassandra is a chosen of Persephone and your second-in-command, Agron killed a dragon… you have many [Heroes] in your employ, and Hadad himself is unmarried. While no bachelor can replace you alone, perhaps adding another match could help sway him.”

The answer was longer.

“NO THRONE.”

It is a throne Prince Hadad wants, Julia guessed. “I agree he will want one… but it does not have to be yours. Offer your pledge to carve out a lesser fiefdom for his sister’s children in Thessala once we conquer it. Wiser men would prefer the king at hand than a throne they don’t have yet… but Hadad is young and hungry for glory. The idea of forging a new vassal kingdom to Vali subordinate to his family will satisfy his ego. His boundless ambition is his strength, but also his weakness. Use it like a hook.”

They still had days ahead of them. Time to test the waters, see if Prince Hadad could be mollified. Julia had enough experience to know that a first offer was rarely the best, and that a deal sealed while panicking was never satisfactory.

“BE BACK,” Kairos answered through the statue. “BE SAFE.”

“I will,” Julia said with warmth. “Take care, my husband.”

No answer followed this time, leaving Julia alone.

Or so she would have thought, had her sharp, enhanced sense of hearing not picked up sound coming from the temple’s window.

“Who is there?” Julia asked. Her bodyguards stood watch over the temple outside, so it shouldn’t be anyone dangerous… but she had asked not to be interrupted.

“I can be touched, but I hurt those who touch me,” a familiar voice answered, as a flying form entered the temple through the windows. “I love forests but fear the streams. Who am I?”

“A fire,” Julia replied with a smile. “My turn. What can still work when broken, snared when touched, and lost but never forever?”

“My, but the heart of course!” Aglaonice the sphinx replied smugly, as she landed right in front of Julia. “This is why I enjoy your company, my dear wolf! Unlike your snake of a husband, you play by the book!”

“When it suits me.” Julia crossed her arms. “Why are you here, my lovely sphinx?”

“Excuse you? You sent a messenger bird begging for my expertise, and when I come to enlighten you, I am met with distrust!”

“True, I did call you,” Julia conceded. She had expected the sphinx to arrive earlier though. ”An urgent matter got in the way.”

“I heard. Your dear husband does struggle to keep to one bed.” The sphinx slouched on the temple’s floor, while Julia let the jab wash over her like seawater on a stone shore. “You should have seen the lustful way he looked at me. He was practically raping me with his gaze!”

“Yet he turned you down.” And Julia could tell that it annoyed the arrogant, self-absorbed sphinx to no end. “No matter. I didn’t call you for advice on matrimonial politics.”

“You didn’t?” The sphinx scratched her belly. “A shame, I am very good at making romantic horoscopes. I predicted that you would face both joy and disappointment in your marriage.”

“That’s awfully vague.”

“Love is more fickle and complicated than the movement of stars, stop shaming me! I warn you to be careful in your love life, and this is the thanks I get?” Aglaonice scoffed. “What did you want to consult me on, if not on your husband?”

Julia’s hands moved to her belly. “If you can see the future, you should already know.”

“Truthfully, I am confused,” Aglaonice replied. “I ran divinations, and they said boy or girl at different times. I suspect a greater power than me obscures the results. Maybe even Prometheus.”

Caenis had told Julia as much. The Titan of Foresight made a likely suspect, as he had already supported Kairos in the past. If Romulus could interfere with others’ divinations, so could Prometheus… and the uncertainty would protect her from Lycaon’s gaze.

“All in all,” Aglaonice said, “just pray for a girl.”

“I cannot rely on uncertainty to live,” the queen of Histra said with a frown. “Nor gamble the life of my child on prayers. If this is a boy, Romulus will come for his head, and if this is a girl, he will come for mine.”

“A true shame,” the sphinx said with a tone that sounded almost sincere. “But you don’t expect me to fight him for you, do you? I appreciate your company, but I don’t like you enough to die for your pretty face.”

“I never expected you to.” Julia could use catspaws when needed, but when someone sought to take her life, she would rather take a sword and kill them herself. “I would have fought if I could, but when Romulus came… I was helpless.”

This feeling of powerlessness, of submitting before a higher authority… she had resented it as much as the limitations Lycean society had put on her. Julia had let others dictate how her life would go often enough. No more.

“I never want to feel this weak again… or to leave my child at the mercy of a stranger.” Julia would rather kill half the world than let anything happen to her blood. “I need something to resist Romulus’ [Domination] power, so I don’t fall under his influence again.”

“I truly sympathize, but what can I do? I am a cat, you are a wolf. I might be worshiped by some, but werewolves belong to one god alone, and he’s very jealous of his pack.”

“Yet my ancestors imprisoned Lycaon beneath the earth, chaining him to the point he needs some mad prophet to fulfill his will,” Julia replied. “Which means his power is not absolute.”

“True, but at the end of the day, you are an [Elite] and your tormentor is a [Demigod] from what I gathered. The power gap is simply too large.” Aglaonice licked her fur like a cat. “Now, if you were a [Hero], I might have something to keep the wolves at bay…”

“Perfect, because my next demand involves my personal Quest.” Julia locked eyes with the sphinx. “Have you found the [Necklace of Harmonia]?”

Aglaonice responded with a smile, which was an answer in itself.

-----------------------------------

She closed her eyes as he kissed her neck.

His hands explored every inch of her naked skin, pinching her breasts and caressing her thighs. Her own fingers moved to his back, feeling the sweat beneath the fingernails. She couldn’t help but groan as he took her beneath the serpopard skin.

It made him hesitate. “Is it too—?”

“No, no, continue,” Cassandra whispered in his ear, her breath short. “It’s… it’s been a while, that’s all.”

She had had a brief fling with Castor while he had visited Histria, but… that had been many months ago, and different. Her current lover’s touch was clumsy, his thrusts abrupt. Cassandra would be surprised if she wasn’t his first.

But thankfully, what Tiberius lacked in experience, he more than made up in youth and passion. The Lycean’s lips kissed her greedily, and his hunger knew no bounds. She thought he would never run out of endurance, and her tent reeked of sex by the time he slowed down.

Cassandra let out a sigh as Tiberius pulled out of her and rolled to her side. She had sweated so much she might have as well walked naked into the rain. Thankfully, her lover had set a bottle of Valian wine within arm’s reach and quickly gave her a cup.

“Can you read my mind?” Cassandra asked, as she sipped the liquid. Valian wine was sweeter than Thessalan one.

“I am merely observant,” he replied with a sheepish smile, and he took a sip too after Cassandra handed him her cup. “Was that… pleasant?”

Obviously, he was afraid of disappointing her… but he didn’t need to worry. “Yes, it was,” Cassandra said, as she rested her head against his shoulder. “We’ll get back at it in the morning.”

Tiberius had been very gallant in his courtship. He had invited her to visit a market after their arrival to Vali, buying her a necklace as a mark of his ‘esteem.’ Cassandra couldn’t help but laugh at his words. The young man clearly had never courted another woman in the past, and he tried to mask his lack of experience with diplomacy.

Young women might have been disappointed at his lack of forwardness, but Cassandra had experience on her side. Panos had been passionate and direct, but inconsiderate. If anything, Cassandra found Tiberius’ caution and attempts to make her feel at ease refreshing.

And well, she was flattered by his interest too. Cassandra was more than ten years older than the Lycean; a part of her wondered if she still ‘had it,’ and Tiberius had put her worries to rest.

Still, it had taken until the hunt for him to dare visit her tent, and Cassandra had to drop very strong hints. And even then, he still asked for her hand first before kissing her.

A wiser man would have bedded her first and then made his demands, but Tiberius had wanted to do things by the book. Naive, but kind. Very kind.

“If we were in Lyce, you should have carried me to your house now,” Cassandra said. Kairos would have done the same with Julia, if Mithridates hadn’t ruined the ceremony.

“I will, once we marry.” There was no uncertainty in Tiberius’ voice. “You will love our house. My father’s villa is almost entirely made of silver and marble. It’s… it’s even bigger than Lord Sertorius’. There’s enough space to accommodate hundreds of guests.”

“I don’t think I’ll bring that many.” Besides her crew and the Foresight’s, Cassandra didn’t have many friends nor living family. In fact, Aurelia or Kairos would probably serve as her witness. She hadn’t decided which yet. “About the marriage though…”

“Yes?”

“I don’t intend to stay at home as a housewife,” Cassandra warned him. “I intend to continue working as a captain, to explore more lands. I am not made for domestic life.”

“I… forgive me, my lady but—”

“My lady?” Cassandra chuckled. “I am no princess.”

“Cassandra,” Tiberius said softly, and Cassandra kissed him on the neck as a reward. What better way to learn? “I made my offer because you are an adventurer, not in spite of it. It’s… it’s a bit embarrassing, but…”

Cassandra listened intently, while Tiberius’ skin turned even redder than when he kissed her for the first time.

“To be with a woman as strong as you… stronger than me…” He grinned ear to ear. “I find it exciting.”

“Good answer,” Cassandra replied, before kissing him on the lips this time. His hands moved to her hair as he pinned against the bed.

Truth be told, she had almost given up on finding a good partner after how her past relationships went. Cassandra didn’t know yet if this match would last, but she was enthusiastic about it; for the first time in many seasons, she started imagining a new future with someone waiting for her at home.

And of course, there was the small matter of children? Cassandra hoped to have one. The thought had always been there, and learning of Julia’s pregnancy had awakened something primal in her. Cassandra wanted a child to raise, to give her ship to when she could no longer navigate, and to take care of her in old age. Not now with the war on the horizon, but… someday.

The couple was well on their way to consummate their relationship again, when Kairos and Agron barged into the tent unannounced.

For a moment, Cassandra couldn’t help but gasp as neither party uttered a word. Kairos blushed in embarrassment, Agron raised an eyebrow, and Tiberius choked in surprise.

“Lord Kairos!” Tiberius looked ready to die of shame, as he abruptly pulled back from Cassandra. She immediately grabbed the serpopard pelt to protect their nakedness. “I-I didn’t know you would come.”

“Neither did I know you would,” Agron said with a chuckle. He was extraordinarily proud of his wordplay, until Cassandra’s deadly glare made him flinch.

“Sorry!” Kairos was almost as embarrassed as his second-in-command. “I… I didn’t know.”

“What is this about?” Cassandra asked. If he came to her so late at night with Agron, it could only mean something important happened. “Are we under attack?”

“Thankfully not yet,” Kairos replied while grinding his teeth. “Do we… do we get out, and come back in when you’re dressed?”

Cassandra looked at her former captain with a tired sigh. Did he truly have to use that ambiguous wording?

“It sounded better in my mind,” Kairos admitted upon realizing the problem.

Mercifully, he and Agron gave the couple a few minutes of privacy, allowing them to dress. However, Cassandra’s tent still reeked of lovemaking when the four gathered inside it to discuss. Kairos had to use his spear’s wind mastery to dissipate it and make the meeting a little less awkward.

Thankfully, Cassandra’s tent, as befitting of her officer rank, was large enough to accommodate everyone. Tiberius held her hand as Kairos gave them a summary of his meeting with Prince Hadad, and she found the gesture quite heartwarming.

And yet, by the time Kairos finished, the world looked a little colder than before.

“Does Andromache know of the proposal?” Cassandra asked.

“No,” Kairos replied. “Not yet. She is still in the capital, far away from all of this.”

“Good.” Cassandra knew the Scylla well enough to know this proposal would infuriate her like nothing else, even if her lover had refused for now. “This is… Kairos, what are you suggesting?”

“The obvious,” Tiberius replied with a displeased frown. “We are currently unmarried, and Lord Kairos is wondering what matches he could arrange.”

Kairos remained impassable, but Cassandra knew him enough that Tiberius’ response surprised him. The Lycean had always been soft-spoken and respectful towards his superior, but the idea of potentially breaking his betrothal rattled him the wrong way.

Panos would have jumped at the opportunity to marry a princess, Cassandra thought. Her past self would have loved marrying the future heir of Vali, but… not now. Not after having found someone she respected.

“I would have chosen another moment, if I could,” Kairos admitted. “But we’re running short on time. We aren’t the only ones courting Hadad’s favor, and his support could either make or break our war effort.”

“Lord Kairos, with all due respect,” Tiberius said. “He wants you. He wants the King of Travia, and the future conqueror of the Thessalan League. My father is powerful, but I am not the eldest, and neither Cassandra nor me are related to you.”

“We could become blood brothers, or adopt you—”

“A vow of brotherhood is not a bloodline,” Tiberius replied.

“Maybe suggest Agron as a match instead?” Cassandra proposed while glancing at the minotaur. “Princess Anat seems to have taken a liking to you.”

If looks could kill, Agron would have hanged and quartered Cassandra. “Do you want to fuck a cow?” the minotaur asked bluntly.

“Nessus would,” Kairos said, trying to lighten up the atmosphere.

“That’s such a low bar to set,” Cassandra replied with a forced smile. She didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“My point stands,” Agron said with a snort. “I’m not into humans, and the idea of mating with one disgusts me. More importantly, minotaurs can’t impregnate your females, so I ain’t a good option.”

“Cassandra, Tiberius, I understand that you intended to marry, and I fully supported it,” Kairos said. “Nothing is settled for now. All I’m asking is, if I were to offer you as an alternative, and if Prince Hadad accepted the deal… would you follow through?”

Cassandra and Tiberius locked gazes, each almost seeing in the other’s mind.

If it were up to them alone, they would have said no. Cassandra could tell from the way Tiberius held her hand, as if he wouldn’t let her go under any circumstance.

But it wasn’t about them.

It was about their nations’ future. An alliance with Vali would make their future war with Mithridates much easier, saving thousands of lives. Even if Tiberius was a Lycean first and foremost, he had already committed to his father’s plan and Kairos’ ambitions.

The couple looked away from the other, their decision made.

“We will put the welfare of the state before our own,” Tiberius said, though it killed him to say it. “But Lord Kairos, what if Prince Hadad says no? What if it’s you that he wants, and no one else?”

Kairos sighed. “I don’t know. Prince Hadad wants a match, and nothing else we have will satisfy him. The trident’s piece might have been a good enough bribe, but I already swore to Hybris that I would have it destroyed or given to Orgonos.”

“Then why not agree to the match but within limits?” Tiberius suggested. “Lady Julia is right, her children and her life will be in danger the moment a Valian princess gives you alternate heirs… but only if they are given rights over Travia and Histria.”

Kairos frowned. “What are you suggesting?”

“Prince Hadad wants to conquer part of the Thessalan League, but it is very far away from home,” Tiberius explained. “The Thessalan League is far closer to Lyce and Travia than his realm, and he already has enough problems in Vali itself. Maybe we could kill two birds with one stone? You would take Princess Anat or Asherah as your concubine, but through a matrilineal union.”

“Matrilineal?” Kairos asked. “You mean, kingship would pass by the female line?”

“We could specify in the marriage contract that your children with the Valian princess would have no right over the throne of Travia and Histria,” Tiberius said with a nod. “Instead, they would belong to a new house, with authority over a new kingdom built over territories conquered in the Thessalan League. I believe such a compromise would satisfy everyone.”

Agron, who had listened without saying much, immediately pointed out the problem.

“Everyone but Andromache,” he said. “I remember a story about a man having sworn his love to a powerful sorceress, only to set her aside for a foreign princess to win a war. It went so well we had to exorcise his vengeful corpse centuries later.”

Cassandra winced upon remembering their encounter with Medea in Achlys. Indeed, it appeared like history might repeat itself.

“The situation is hardly comparable,” Tiberius argued, while Kairos remained silent. “Jason owed everything to Medea, and while I respect Lady Andromache, she is a [Hero] and not irreplaceable.”

“She is,” Kairos replied harshly. “To me.”

Agron shrugged. “Andromache is the most powerful member of our army by far, and you heard the Valian king. Once we kill Zama, he’ll crawl back to us and we won’t have to pay for anything.”

“If we can defeat Zama,” Tiberius pointed out. “Which will be all the harder if Vali’s prince fully throws his weight behind him. Lord Kairos, I understand your feelings for Lady Andromache, but the greater good of your kingdom calls for an alliance. If we can’t satisfy the prince… we will need to make sacrifices.”

“What Tiberius is saying, Kairos, is that there is no perfect solution,” Cassandra summed it up, when she noticed her former captain’s expression turn sour. “Someone will lose in the bargain. The only choice you have is to decide who will.”

Kairos considered her words for a moment, his expression unreadable. He took pride in finding new options from unexpected angles, but Cassandra had the feeling that he would fail this time.

They might salvage the situation… but someone would suffer.

“I will take a leave from that hunt and go to the capital, to check on Andromache and Nessus,” Kairos declared with grim acceptance. “Afterward…”

“Afterward?” Tiberius asked with worry.

“Afterward, I will make an offer to Prince Hadad on my return… and pray we can reach a compromise.”

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