Triangle

by Sara L Daigle

  “Good or bad?” Tension crept back into his body. He pulled his arms down and sat up.

  “Depends on your point of view. Uh, the first one concerns me. I’m uh … well you’re going to be an uncle.” She spoke in a rush.

  Justern’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean you’re ...”

  “Yeah. I’m going to have a baby,” Tamara said, surprised at how hard it was to say the words to someone else. She had the opportunity to see Justern left completely speechless, though, and that was rather amusing.

  “Well,” he said, after a moment. “That’s certainly not what I expected you to say. You don’t sound thrilled, though. Are you happy about it?”

  “It wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve dealt with. But I’ve come to terms with it. Alari and I are getting married too. Not precisely because of it, of course, but it’s moved our plans up a bit.”

  “Is it Alarin’s?” The question was normal—but blunter than she expected.

  “Uh …” Her brain raced. He knew about the tangled relationship between herself, Alarin, and Merran, although she’d told him she’d broken it off with Merran. “Let’s just say to the outside world, Alarin has a daughter, no matter her true heritage.”

  “Whew. How’s he taking it? The biological father, I mean. I already know Alarin’s probably got it all handled. He’s very good at that.”

  Tamara could feel the flush burn up her cheeks. “About like I am. Uneasily. It’s easier because the rest of us are going to be the ones overtly raising her. He gets to pretend nothing’s changed.” She could hear the lingering bitterness in her voice and consciously added, “Well, actually, it’s not so bad as that. He’s working on a convoluted plan to be part of this, as much as he can be, while keeping her protected from the paparazzi’s interest in him. So she is Alarin’s and my daughter, and that’s as far as it goes.”

  “So he’s going to be an uncle. Well, that works. He’s already been one and knows how to handle it. Wow. Pregnant. I’m gone from Earth for a short time and you turn your life upside down.”

  “It wasn’t on purpose. But it’s done and we get to deal with it.”

  Justern cocked his head. “Not on purpose? How not on purpose? Hasn’t Greg shown you how … ”

  Heat rushed up her body to settle in her cheeks. “Yes, but I got used to trusting that they would take care of it. There was one time ...” She rubbed her eyes. “Let’s just say that we were distracted. Not really paying attention … and it happened.”

  Justern blinked. “Ah,” was all he said.

  “The wedding will be this summer, after the semester’s over.” She deliberately changed the subject, very uncomfortable with the turn this one had taken. “If you were able to get a full pardon, would you come back for our wedding?”

  The color slid from his face. He went very still. “Don’t tease me.”

  “Hasn’t Merran told you he’s been campaigning for you to be pardoned so that this persecution will end?”

  “He told me,” Justern replied, his voice remote, “but I thought it was extremely unlikely that it would actually work.”

  “Well, my dad called me this morning to tell me that the president of the United States wants to talk to you. Why else would he want to talk unless it’s to discuss a pardon?”

  “So you don’t really know what he wants, do you?” Justern’s eyes stared at her steadily.

  “Not for sure, but considering Merran’s efforts and the president’s desire to speak to you, I thought maybe … just call my dad anyway and talk to him. He’s the one who spoke to the president.”

  Justern shifted on the bed and took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly to calm himself down. “All right. I’ll call him. As for your first question, if … and that’s a big if … I get a pardon, yes, definitely, I’ll be at your wedding.”

  “Good. Oh, Justy, I didn’t tell my dad about the wedding or the baby yet so don’t mention anything, please?”

  Justern shook his head. “I won’t. Has Alarin told his family yet?” he added abruptly, as though the thought had just occurred to him.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh.”

  “What?”

  “Just that it’s going to come as something of a shock.” A grin tugged on the edges of his mouth. “It’s going to turn the Raderths upside down, and that’s something I can enjoy, no matter how it comes about.”

  Tamara shifted on the bed uncomfortably. “Really? Alarin doesn’t think it’s going to be that big of a deal.”

  Justern laughed. “Ho, it’s going to be a big deal all right. Really big. As in Azelle-shattering. At least that’s how they’re going to treat it.”

  “But he said his father already knows!”

  “Probably, but he most certainly hasn’t told anyone, so the others are going to react rather predictably. They’re going to hate it. This is going to be fun.”

  “Fun? How so?”

  “You’re on Earth, my sweet sister. You’re not going to feel much of it. But here on Azelle … let’s just say that Alarin’s news will shock them to their core. They were absolutely insufferable about the whole Carrington-Dorvath-Memaxthal affair, which involved our mother, as you’ll recall. Now … well, they’ve got what’s coming to them. It’s better that everyone thinks your baby is his. It makes the whole thing even funnier.”

  Tamara closed her eyes. “Justy …”

  “Don’t worry about it, Tam. I’m just enjoying seeing the Raderths get their comeuppance. Alari is the best of the bunch. Kyla’s not too bad, either, but the rest? Well, they’ve lorded it over the rest of the families for centuries, touting their perfect heritage, untouched by scandal or imperfection. They’re perfect and the rest of us are flawed. Seeing one of their own being independent and doing what he wants—I’ve always admired that about Alarin—and now he’s going to continue what he’s always done … shaking up the status quo.”

  Tamara shook her head. “Just call my dad, will you? Now you’ve got me worried and I have to catch Alarin before he goes off to class.”

  “I will. Don’t worry too much about it, Tam. It’s an Azellian thing. It won’t affect you on Earth, and one day it will blow over.”

  “Like my own history has? I can’t get a visa to Azelle to save my life.”

  “Except your baby’s father is full-blooded Azellian, as is your future husband. I might not play politics as well as Merran, but I’m absolutely certain that he’s going to get her and, by extension, you a visa now.”

  “Our mother was full-blooded Azellian and that didn’t stop them from sending me and my father away.”

  “Yes, but Mother didn’t have Merran on her side,” Justern replied. “Mer’s really good at getting what he wants, Tam, and your pregnancy, for all that it frustrates you, will open doors. I suspect you’ll have a visa to come to Azelle before the baby’s born, with a written invitation from Kendrick Raderth himself.”

  Tamara stared at him. “No way. You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “You wait and see. You’ll have a visa by … well, let’s say in the next couple of months. You could always have the wedding here.”

  Tamara took a deep breath. “We’ll see. Merran might actually manage to get me a visa, but there’s no way in hell he’s going to get one for my father, and I want him to be able to be at my wedding. Besides the wedding, though, if there’s a chance you can come and go freely, I’d like my daughter to know her Uncle Justern too.”

  “I’d forgotten about that part. All right, fine. I’ll call your dad right now and not mention anything about weddings, babies, or anything else.”

  “Thank you.” She felt a vast relief. “Bye, Justy.”

  “Bye, Tam,” Justern said and hung up the phone.

  Tamara slid off the bed and padded into the kitchen to find that Alarin had left her a note. She hadn’t sensed him leave—which put off her confronting him about his family’s reaction. Going back into the bedroom, she got herself ready for a luncheon she was n
ot looking forward to, no matter how reassuring Alarin had been.

  Tamara met her father at O’Reilly’s at noon, making sure she got there first and was sitting when he came in, her bulky, loose sweater hanging well over her hips. As he came into the restaurant, joining her at the table and leaning over to kiss her lightly on the cheek, Tamara made sure she shielded the baby as hard as she could as his lips, cold from the outside, brushed her cheek. She remained firmly seated. She wasn’t sure about her ability to shield herself from a full body hug. The unborn baby had a mind of her own and a steady determination to bond everyone to her. Although Tamara’s father was not psi the way she or the Azellians were psi, Tamara suspected her daughter would capitalize on his sensitivity the moment she had any contact with him, which could prove to be a good thing. However, it wasn’t necessarily the way Tamara wanted to tell him about her new status.

  “It’s good to see you, sweetheart,” her father said, settling down across from her. “How have you been?”

  “Good,” Tamara said. “How’s Jill?” she asked, referring to her father’s long-time secretary.

  “She’s doing great. Keeping me organized, as usual,” he said, nodding at the waiter. They chatted about his work, little family details, and her classes until the waiter came over to take their order.

  She still hadn’t figured out how to tell him exactly, but the pressure to disclose recent events in her life was growing as the waiter delivered their sandwiches. “Uh, dad,” she said, once the waiter left and a moment of silence fell between them. “I … have some news. You’re, uh, you’re going to be a grandfather,” she blurted. It wasn’t the most political way to have dropped the news in his lap, but at least it was finally out.

  Peter froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. He set it down and looked straight at her. “Say that again.”

  Tamara stared at her plate of food. She suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore. “I’m … pregnant.”

  Peter didn’t say anything for quite some time, doing nothing but breathing while putting his best lawyer face in place.

  Tamara pushed at her salad with her fork. “It was accidental. We … took precautions, but you know there’s always a failure rate with every method,” she said hastily, trying to cover the increasingly uncomfortable silence between them. “I’m keeping the baby, but I am finishing college. And we’re going to get married.” As if that will make it all better … but maybe it will. Yeah, and pigs will fly soon, too. “Things aren’t going to be easy, but I am not going to give up on college.”

  Peter’s eyes gleamed as he looked at her, but from anger or unshed tears Tamara wasn’t sure. “Tell me one thing, Tamara. Is it that damned ambassador who is responsible for this?”

  Tamara stared at him in shock. How to lie to her father? She hadn’t expected him to make that connection; he’d known of her brief relationship with Merran, but she’d also been very careful to tell him it had ended. “Actually,” she said, knowing that her father’s ability to spot lies was pretty well developed, but also hoping he was emotional enough to miss her stretching of the truth, “it happened after I started seeing Alarin.”

  Peter made a sound. “I don’t know that that’s any better. At least Merran has a job. Alarin’s a student, honey. How is he going to support you?”

  The complex arrangement that Merran was putting into place to support his daughter was going to pay for any expenses associated with the baby and would provide more than enough to support Tamara while she was a student, but Tamara couldn’t tell her father that. “Alarin has an internship with an IT company and it’s looking very likely that they will hire him on a permanent basis. We are also getting married, so you don’t have to worry about family gossip.”

  “Family gossip is the least of my worries right now,” Peter said with a sharp sound that was somewhere between a cough and a sarcastic laugh.

  “Dad, please,” Tamara whispered, adrenaline rushing through her so strongly she could hardly breathe. “Don’t be mad at me.”

  Peter shook his head. “I’m not angry, Tamara. I’m worried. I know what it’s like to have a child you didn’t expect. I hate to see you repeat my mistakes.” His eyes took on a haunted look.

  “I was a mistake?” She felt the sharp jab of pain lance through her.

  “No, yes. I don’t mean that I didn’t and don’t love you, Tamara,” Peter’s eyes focused on her. “It was just hard, honey. Very hard. Particularly before I met Jeanine. I don’t want to see you struggle, Tamara. Have you thought about alternatives?”

  Tamara took a deep breath. “I have. At length. She’s three-quarters Azellian, Dad. Even at fourteen weeks, I can already sense her. I couldn’t … I couldn’t have an abortion, and I know I can’t give her up for adoption. I’ve made my decision, Dad. I hope you can respect that and give her your love, too.”

  Peter looked down at his food, and she saw him blink away something that looked suspiciously like tears. “You are so much like your mother,” he said finally, staring at his plate. “She had such determination and inner strength.” Tamara could hear a note in his voice she’d never heard before. Peter had told Tamara of her history, but she’d never felt emotions like the ones coming from him now. She couldn’t always sense her father, but she did in this moment. Chagrin, fear, love, and pride spilled through him. No real anger, although it did flare momentarily, but he understood too much to stay angry at her. “It always amazes me how life comes around full circle.” He pulled himself back together and the sense of his emotions faded. He stared at the table.

  Tamara let the silence extend for a while, then, wanting to change the subject, she asked, “Did Justy call you? I talked to him this morning. He said he’d call you right away.”

  “Yes, I talked to him.” Peter shook himself and came back to the present. He took a deep breath. “You mentioned a wedding. Am I allowed to have a say?”

  Tamara lifted her head and stared at him. “Of course. We’d love your input.”

  “Then I want you and Alarin to come down to the house this weekend. We have a wedding to plan and a family to figure out how to manage.” He sighed and rubbed his cheek. “I’m going to get a lecture about how I allowed my daughter to be corrupted by those damned Azellians.”

  Tamara coughed, trying to suppress the laugh that threatened to erupt. “Grandmother’s going to be quite unsurprised, I suspect. She already thinks I’m evil incarnate. Do we have to tell her?”

  Peter rolled his eyes. “Eventually, yes. But we’ll wait to tell her until we can’t hide it anymore.” He paused, then added dryly, “Maybe by then she’ll be too senile to care.”

  Tamara giggled. “Dad! I’m shocked! Okay … not really. How is she doing?”

  Peter shrugged. “Not as well as we could hope, but that’s not an unmixed blessing.” He paused and then continued. “You’re turning two families on their ears, you know. Your grandmother isn’t the only one who is going to have trouble with it. The Raderths are going to have collective apoplexy over this as well. I’m not as unaware of Azellian politics as they might think. Alarin is the prodigal son, the heir of the senior branch of the family. They’re not going to take the news well, that he’s marrying a human, especially Peter Carrington’s daughter.”

  “Everyone keeps saying that,” Tamara said. “What does that mean, anyway? What is this big deal? Why are the Raderths going to be so upset? Why does it matter what happened between you and my mother? I know the family story, and the results, but not the reasons.”

  “You know how Azelle is set up politically? By clan?”

  Tamara nodded. “Yes, and that there are eight families who are on the Council.”

  Peter nodded. “Yes, the Raderths have been the foremost family of Azellian politics for a very long time. The head of the Raderth family, who is Alarin’s grandfather Kendrick, is very opinionated. He was instrumental in making sure that Jasmian and I were separated.”

  “He was? Why?”

  “Because I was human, and h
e couldn’t stand to see a human disrupt a politically motivated marriage between Jasmian’s family and Kendrick’s wife’s family. I got in the way, and he made damned sure I was taken out of the picture. The Raderths will do anything to get what they want, Tamara. If they can block you coming to Azelle and marrying their prodigal son, they will.”

  Tamara groaned. “Just what we need. Do you think they will succeed?”

  “It depends on how willing Alarin is to go against his family. I’ve had a few conversations with him since he started dating you, and he seems very different from the Raderths I experienced more than twenty years ago. Still, it’s extremely difficult to reject all your upbringing and follow your own way. There aren’t many people who could do it.”

  “Alarin says his father probably already saw this marriage for us and knows.”

  Peter frowned thoughtfully. “Hmmm. I’d forgotten about Galadrian.”

  “Can he really see the future?”

  Peter shrugged. “They say he can, but he doesn’t get involved if he can help it. He certainly didn’t prevent them from kicking you and me off the planet twenty years ago. Although …” he trailed off and poked at his salad.

  “Although what, Dad?”

  “Galadrian said something to me once, before I left Azelle with you.” Peter frowned, putting his fork down. “He said, ‘Take very good care of your girls, Peter. They will change the course of a galaxy.’ It stuck in my head all these years. I had no idea what he meant at the time. I still don’t—although I did have two daughters, so maybe it does mean something, but I can’t tell you what.” He focused on her as a shiver rippled up Tamara’s spine. “Galadrian is quite … different from the other Raderths in that family. He’s not like any other being I’ve ever met anywhere. When he looks through you with those eyes of his …” Peter shuddered. “He’s about the only one on Azelle who could prevent the Raderths from trying to interfere in your relationship with Alarin.” He picked up his fork again. “But God knows if he will.”