“Did you get any sleep last night?” Rogue asked when she walked in, and Callida merely yawned before disappearing into the bathroom to splash her face with water. A week into parenthood, Callida had finally recovered enough to take the night shift with the boys for the first time. The nurse only worked during the day, so the boys had to accept a bottle for their night feedings. Callida hadn’t bothered trying to build up a milk supply knowing that the demands of her job wouldn’t allow her to stay on maternity leave for more than a week or two, and Rogue didn’t exactly have the equipment for nursing. He could help with child care, and that was it. That’s why Callida had hired the nurse from the get-go.
Rogue chuckled as his sleepy wife returned from the bathroom and immediately flopped onto a chair by the hearth, her eyes closed before she’d even settled fully. He chose to let her be and resumed cooing at the boys in that ridiculous baby voice that everyone adopts when talking to small, cute creatures; he recognized his tone as such, felt self-conscious about it, and then continued to use it anyway. They’d just finished the morning routine of a feeding followed by a bath, and now the boys were looking around, soaking up some attention before their morning nap while their nurse got herself ready for the day.
“I don’t know how you’ve been doing this all week, Qiangde,” Callida mused sleepily. “One night, and I just feel completely dead.” Rogue chuckled again, his hands busy playing with tiny, squirming feet.
“It doesn't help that you're so anemic still.”
“Mn. You know, it occurred to me… sometime last night, the boys are due to be examined by a spiritualist, right?”
“That’s right!” Rogue realized, feeling excited. “I can do it, though!”
“You can only identify wolves though, right?” Callida frowned. “What am I saying? We’re both wolves! That would only matter if we were a mixed family like mine and yours were growing up. Assuming they’re hosts at all, their animal spirits will all be wolves. But they’re about a week old. Isn’t that the normal timeframe?”
“I actually have no idea: is there some sort of traditional event that surrounds the whole identifying ceremony? Or do you normally just go to a temple or visit a spiritualist?”
“No idea. I don’t think any of that would matter though. The point is just to confirm that they are hosts, right? And in a mixed family, it’s fun to know which parent they take after.”
“So, then, do I just… go for it?” Rogue laughed, and Callida grudgingly peeled herself out of the chair to join him on the bed with the boys.
“I want to watch,” she explained, and assumed a much more awake, cross legged position next to him. “Who are you going to start with?”
“I guess… I’ll start with Probus — go in birth order.” She nodded, and Rogue’s excitement multiplied. Setting a hand on Probus’s chest, Rogue concentrated, and his wolf, Shyaam, made the connection. The essence he detected beneath his palm was a shimmery black, like Shyaam’s, and the energy was curious and excited. Focusing on the image in his mind’s eye, he could see the essence clearly now, and he waited for it to take the expected appearance of a wolf… but it didn’t. He kept waiting, but there was no change. It simply remained amorphous. Confused, he broke the connection.
“So?” Callida probed. “What did you see?”
“He’s a host,” Rogue said quietly, still trying to understand what he saw — or rather didn’t see — and moved on to Tiaki before Callida could ask any more questions. Black essence, playful and aggressive, but without form. Rogue’s brow knit together.
“Rogue, what–?”
He switched to Manasik. More black essence, this time cautious and clever, but it was still only essence. Retracting his hand, Rogue’s mind began churning. Shyaam is a wolf. Goldie is a wolf. These babies have to be wolves! Unless…. No. No, wait. Surely there was a simple explanation that wasn’t that. “Callida, is there a reason people typically wait until the baby is a week old before they take them to see a spiritualist?”
“Um, I don’t know. Why do you ask? What did you see?!” she asked eagerly. “Are they hosts?”
“They… yes.”
“What color are their wolves?!”
“They, uh, they’re black–”
“All of them?!”
“Yeah.”
“Ugh! So even their wolves take after you,” she teased playfully and pecked his cheek. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were the only one involved in making them.”
Rogue watched as Callida got up and stretched with another sleep-deprived yawn, but his mind was still grinding, and his hand cycled over each of the boys’ chests again, confirming his original observations: black essence, no form. They have to be wolves. Black essence, no form. If they were wolves, their essences would look like wolves. Black essence, no form. But I can’t identify anything that isn’t a wolf. Black essence…. No form meant that they weren’t wolves, and if they weren’t wolves, then…
… then he couldn’t be their father.
That logical step hit like a kick to the gut and a punch to the face all at once, and Rogue was appropriately winded.
“Callida….”
“Yeah?” she prompted when he didn’t continue.
“They aren’t wolves.”
She laughed, like it was a joke, and then she frowned. Confusion sat at the center of her forehead. And then her eyes widened from surprise when she realized that he wasn’t joking. He watched her process, likely following the same thread of logic he’d just worked through himself — the look of horror when she came to the same conclusion. “Rogue, you don’t… you don’t think…. Primordials. But they have to be wolves! Are you certain? I mean, absolutely sure that they aren’t just…. Maybe it takes a while for the animal spirit to take form. Maybe… maybe that’s why you’re supposed to wait a week before having them identified. They were born early, Qiangde. Maybe they just haven’t formed yet. Maybe we just have to wait a while longer.”
But he could hear it in her voice that she didn’t really believe that theory either.
Which meant she had another explanation.
He launched off the bed, entering a feverish back-and-forth pacing as he battled back a temper threatening to explode from the instant poison of rage, jealousy, and agony that was narrowing his vision and making the rest of him go numb. The harrowing betrayal left him unable to think straight while two crystalline sentences echoed through his skull on repeat:
They’re not my sons. They’re someone else’s.
They’re not my sons. They’re someone else’s.
They’re not my sons. They’re someone else’s.
“Rogue?” He went rigid to the touch of her fingertips on his arm. “Rogue, please–”
“Who’s their father, Callida?” he snarled lowly.
She froze. For a moment, time seemed to stand still before she recovered. “There’s no one else, Qiangde.”
His anguish and anger seized control of his being. Rogue gripped her arm violently. He didn’t even know what words spilled from his mouth as drove her backwards. Her hands came up defensively to brace against his shoulders when she inevitably ran out of room to retreat, and some completely deranged part of him wanted to hurt her.
He must have been acting like he intended to follow through with that impulse because Callida flinched. It caught his attention and gave him pause. She was watching his every move, tears pooling in her eyes, and Rogue could tell that every nerve, every muscle in her body was on high alert despite the fact that she had done nothing to either run or fight. She was simply watching, waiting — consciously submitting. And he was out of his mind and out of control.
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He stepped back, his arm came up in a self-silencing gesture, and he turned on his heel and stormed out. They’re not my sons. They’re someone else’s. The thoughts screamed in his head. He listened to them as he escaped the house… then the military base… then the palace grounds. He listened to them as he ran down the road, and wiped away angry tears, and bloodied his knuckles against the trunk of a scraggly tree. And he listened to them as he came to the entrance of a tavern, sat down at a table, and ordered something strong to drink.
“Will that be all for you?” the server asked.
“Just keep them coming.”
“Rough morning?” He ignored the question and began an attempt to drown out the continued chanting in his head.
They’re not my sons. They’re someone else’s.
***
Council meetings without Callida were…. It had only been a week since Commander Rapax had informed the council that the Lion General had given birth and would be taking a temporary leave of absence. One week and Verum missed her terribly. One week and it felt like the council was unraveling without her common sense to keep things moving productively. How he’d gotten along without her during her deployment to the Griffin Tribe, he couldn’t recall. To be fair, her commanders had been doing a fine job taking care of military matters, but that was the limit of their contributions during morning meetings.
Verum was pacing in front of his throne, needing to move his body while the councilmen nit-picked the latest issue of resource management that he’d already tried to redirect and refocus seven times. He could feel the frustration and tension slowly building both in himself and throughout the room. “That’s enough. For today. I want to give this some thought, and we’ll pick this up again tomorrow. Dismissed.”
How long did it take to recover from childbirth anyway? Flore started traveling a week after giving birth to Optatio. It’s been a week. Surely it wouldn’t be insensitive at this point to ask when she thought she’d be ready to come back, right? I could bring a baby gift and meet her baby as an excuse.
Determined, Verum found a steward and ordered him to prepare a baby gift for the Lion General. “I don’t care what it is. Just something nice that you can prepare quickly.”
Thirty minutes later, the steward returned with a very large, elegantly presented package. “I took the liberty of selecting some clothes his highness has already grown out of, and there are a few things in here for the new mother.”
“Excellent. Thank you,” Verum approved and led the way to the Lion General’s estate with Captain Pius and the burdened steward serving as his shadows. There was a thin, relatively undisturbed layer of snow on the ground, and the chill in the air felt cleansing after a day spent in stuffy company. Verum inhaled deeply. I should take walks more often.
He’d only ever been to the Lion General’s estate a handful of times; normally, people came to him. The heavy lion’s head knocker on the door clanged loudly, and Verum recognized the steward who appeared through the door. Celcarum? Celarum? Something like that.
“Your Majesty! How may I serve you?” the steward said with a bow and ushered his party into the parlor off the entryway foyer where a fire in the hearth was producing a pleasant heat.
“I’m here to visit the Lion General.” A beck directed at his own steward produced the slapdash baby gift, and the package was passed from one steward to the other. “Is she accepting visitors?”
“I’ll ask.” The steward — Celarus! That’s his name! — dashed out of the room and up the stairs.
Verum took the opportunity to mindlessly scan the room and appreciate the classic design elements. It seemed to make sense that generations upon generations of Lion Generals couldn’t be bothered to update the decor of the estate. The estate itself was almost a time capsule of the year it was built. Instead of updating things to stay en vogue with current fashions, this room was almost nostalgic for a bygone era. The furnishings and decor were rich and classic, repaired or replicated as needed. How many Lion Generals has this estate housed over the years? How old is this house anyway?! But it was very well maintained, so there was little to find fault with.
Celarus returned quickly, breathing a little more heavily. “The general has invited you to join her upstairs. She is tending to a baby.”
“Pius, stay here; steward, you may return to the palace,” Verum instructed on his way to follow Celarus up the stairs to a nursery where Callida was gently swaying and hushing a fussing baby. The friends made eye contact, and Callida put a finger to her lips and indicated an oversized bassinet to his right. Confused, Verum moved to peer into the crib and was shocked to find two more sleeping babies! He wheeled around, his jaw by his toes, to express his bewilderment to Callida, but she’d already returned to ambling about the room with the babe on her shoulder. Eventually, his shock lessened, and Verum chuckled to himself. It was just like her to keep something like this a secret, successfully no less, and it also seemed to make sense that her motherhood would be as extreme as she was. Triplets?! Primordials help her.
When the third baby finally settled, Callida carefully added it to the bassinet and released an exhausted breath. “Hi,” she whispered.
He muted a return chuckle as best he could and met her eyes. “Triplets, huh? And here I came expecting to find only one baby keeping you up at night.” She accepted his snark with a tired shrug. “What are their names?”
She pointed to them, out of order from how they were laying, so Verum guessed in birth order. “Probus, Tiaki, and Manasik.”
“All boys?”
“Yeah.”
“Probus, huh? After your father?” She nodded, and Verum peered at the squishy faces a little more closely. The one she’d called Probus looked the most like her with blonde hair and an intense, resting scowl, but Verum saw a lot of Qiangde in him — in all three of them. The middle one, Verum had already forgotten his name, looked exactly like his father, except maybe his hair color. “Where’s Qiangde?”
“Um… he went out,” she said simply. “Should we take this somewhere else?”
“I just came to meet your baby. I didn’t realize I’d be meeting three of them,” Verum ribbed her again and nudged her shoulder. She clearly wasn’t in a playful mood; she barely reacted to the tease. Verum cleared his throat and tried a different tact. “I also came to ask you if you needed anything and if you had an idea of when you’ll be ready to come back to work.”
Callida sighed and moved around the bassinet to stand by the window and part a gossamer curtain. Verum watched her stare out at the white world beyond. She seemed… heavy — distracted and quietly burdened — and tired. He joined her by the window and noted the puffiness in her very pale face when she looked up at him. The last time he’d seen her so pale, she’d nearly bled out from a stab wound in her lower back.
“Callida, are you alright?”
“Fine,” she replied quickly — perhaps too quickly. “I’m just tired.”
“You’re pale.”
“The delivery was rough,” she explained through a weak smile. “I need a few more days, Verum. I’m still recovering.”
He frowned and nodded slowly. He couldn’t remember a time when Callida had actually asked for more time off to take care of her health. Not that that was a bad thing! But he had to wonder what she wasn’t telling him. Just how rough was the delivery? “Is there anything I can do to help?”
She smiled more sincerely, shook her head, and then reconsidered. “Actually, I need to look for a spiritualist… to identify the boys.”
Verum quirked an eyebrow at that. “I thought Qiangde was a spiritualist.”
“He is, but only sort of. Well, he is a spiritualist, but his skillset is extremely specialized.”
“Ah. Healing, right?” She nodded again, her eyes returning to the window. “The council summoned a pair of spiritualists to identify Optatio and certify him as a host before his ratification. Would you like me to summon them?”
“Can they be discreet?”
Surprised by the question, Verum fumbled through a response. “Um, I mean, it’s not as though their status as hosts or not matters much, but I’m sure you could draw up whatever type of contract you wanted. I’m sure they’d honor any terms you set as long as they get paid.” She nodded again, something in her face pinching so subtly, Verum almost missed it. “Callida, are you sure everything’s ok?”
She snorted, her lips parting in a crooked grin as she glanced up at him out of the corners of her eyes. “I just gave birth to triplets last week. I’m healing and adjusting, and I’m tired. I’m pretty sure that’s normal. Thank you for your concern just the same, but I’m fine. If you could send for the spiritualists, I’d appreciate it.” She was back to staring blankly out the window, and Verum wasn’t quite certain if she was lying or if he was just reading too much into things.
“I’ll take care of that right away.”
“Thank you,” she repeated and actually turned to look at him again. “Truly.”
“Let me know when you’re ready to come back. You’ve been missed.”
“I can’t imagine that your council misses me all that much, Verum.”
“Alright, fine,” he chuckled. “I miss you. Managing the council on my own this week has been a nightmare.”
“Duly noted. I think I just need one more week. Think you can last that much longer?”
Verum grinned at the intended tease, and nodded. “I’ll manage. It’s good to see you, Callida. Good luck with everything.” He squeezed her shoulder and showed himself out, collecting Captain Pius on his way to the front door.
At the front gate of the estate grounds, Verum looked up to see Qiangde returning home and called to him, frowning when he didn’t immediately reply. There was something off about him. His gait was sloppier, his posture slumped.
“Course yer ‘ere,” Qiangde slurred almost as though he hadn’t seen Verum standing there until he was right next to him. “Why m’I s’prised?”
“Erm, congratulations, Qiangde,” Verum offered and then recoiled, repulsed by Qiangde’s sudden laugh. It sounded unhinged, and his breath was potent. He reeked of alcohol. “It’s a little early to be drinking so much.”
“Yeah. Prob’ly had one too many,” he slurred. “Di’doo see the boys? Yer a host, aren’choo? Bein’ Yer Majes’dy ‘n all…”
“I… yeah. I–” Qiangde’s hand was suddenly gripping the front of Verum’s cloak, yanking him forward, and Verum halted Pius who was reactively drawing his sword. Qiangde stared him down. There was some unknown madness in his eyes that, without any context, Verum couldn’t identify. And Verum felt… weird — confused and vaguely violated, but mostly just confused. “Qiangde? Are we ok?”
“Yeah,” he replied, releasing Verum’s clothes with a slight shove. “We’re good… Yer Majes’dy.”
Qiangde tilted his head in a bow and moved past him, and Verum stood pondering for a moment, watching him walk away. He’d never seen Qiangde drunk before and hardly ever interacted with him besides, but Flore had nothing but good things to say about her experiences with him. And Callida had married the guy, so this seemed out of character.
“That was weird,” Pius muttered.
“Yeah. I guess he just had a drink or two too many.”