Once Upon a Time (Calluvia's Royalty 3)

The realization was hard to swallow, and Jamil pushed it out of his thoughts, to think about later.

“Everyone has their own version of the truth, brother,” he said softly, without looking at Seyn. “He’s not a petty man. Have you ever wondered why he treats you differently from others? Think about it.”

He strode out of the room, a strange feeling in his chest.

It had been almost a year since Mehmer’s death. Was he finally… fine? Really fine?

Jamil frowned, searching his feelings. He would always miss Mehmer, but… yes, the thoughts of him no longer brought pain, as they once had done; merely fond nostalgia. He didn’t feel guilty anymore for being excited about his daughter’s upcoming birth.

He was… content with his life, and he didn’t feel guilty about it.

The thought was oddly liberating.

Jamil found himself smiling.

He was fine.

Everything was going to be fine.

He was done letting any man affect his happiness.

His daughter was all he needed.

Jamil ignored a twinge of something at the back of his mind.

He was fine.

Chapter 15

Six months later

“I still think you should have stayed on Tai’Lehr.”

Rohan focused on piloting the small ship toward Malok-1’s docks. “What a coincidence,” he said dryly. “I still think you should have stayed home, too.”

He didn’t need to turn his head to know that his friend was scowling.

“My home is Calluvia,” Warrehn bit out.

Rohan snorted. “You sound like you need to convince yourself first, buddy.”

He got a telepathic shove for that, nearly causing them to collide with the freighter docking ahead of them.

“Careful, dammit,” Rohan said, shooting Warrehn a glare. “Anyone ever told you not to distract the pilot?”

“No,” Warrehn said with a grumpy face, but since Warrehn’s face looked somewhat grumpy ninety percent of the time, the effect was rather ruined even though this time Warrehn actually had a legitimate reason to be his grumpy, brooding self. It wasn’t every day one returned to one’s home planet after nineteen years away.

As they docked, Sirri emerged out of the cabin, yawning. “Ugh, I didn’t think we’d be here so soon,” she said sleepily. “Where’s the blockade when you need it?”

She followed them out of the ship, still muttering something unhappily.

Rohan punched in his access code and headed toward the station’s TNIT. There wasn’t much to look at along the way: gray walls, low ceilings, and lack of furniture and people. Malok-1 was an automated orbital station, operated by the central computer and droids. The station was hidden behind a gas giant that was located at the far end of the star system Tai’Lehr was located in. It was far enough from Tai’Lehr for the transgalactic teleporter to function, but close enough for its work to be masked by Tai’Lehr’s magnetic field. It had been built in secret centuries ago by Tai’Lehr engineers, and Calluvia was oblivious about it.

Or so they had thought.

Rohan’s lips thinned. Of course, there had always been a chance that the unregistered TNIT would be discovered: sooner or later, Calluvians were bound to learn about it. He still would have preferred for it to be later than sooner—and in other circumstances.

“I still think you should have stayed behind, Rohan,” Sirri said, catching up to him. “Warrehn and I are perfectly capable of dealing with this.”

“See? She agrees with me,” Warrehn said.

Rohan ignored them.

Sirri sighed. “You’re such a control freak, honey. Why can’t you trust other people to get the job done?”

Rohan entered another access code and the door to the TNIT room opened. “Prepare the TNIT,” he said shortly.

“Ass,” Sirri said, heading toward the TNIT’s controls. “At times like this, I wonder why I ever fucked you. If you weren’t such a fantastic lay, I would have punched you years ago.”

“And here I was, wondering why you put up with his shit,” Warrehn said, stepping onto the transporter pad. His blue eyes were tight as he looked around the room. Rohan wondered if he was remembering the first time he was in it.

“You’re one to talk, you grumpy old man,” Sirri said. “At least Rohan has one redeemable quality: his talent in the sack. You, I’m not sure about. You’re nice to look at, but looks aren’t everything, if you get what I mean.”

Warrehn’s lips didn’t even twitch. “Want a demonstration?”

Sirri laughed. “I’m afraid I lack… necessary assets for your assets to work. And I saw what you did to that shop boy. The poor thing couldn’t sit for days. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Rohan joined his best friend on the transporter pad. “Sirri. Just get it done.”

She raised her yellow eyebrows mockingly. “Say please.”

Rohan gave her a flat look.

Sirri rolled her eyes. “Fine. You have no sense of humor since your trip to Calluvia. What happened there to turn you into such a moody dick?”

Rohan averted his gaze and said tersely, “Maybe you should be the one to stay home if all you’re interested in is gossip.”