Six cycles into Sykora’s pregnancy
“Die, Giant!”
Druma, Viscountess-in-Waiting of Luniari, leaps from the picnic table onto Grant’s shoulders. He lets out an exaggerated bellow and chucks the cackling girl into the bounce house.
She bounces twice, hair fanning out at half-speed in the low-grav field, and ends up belly-flopped onto the rubberized representation of a ZKZ command deck. “Avenge me,” she cries.
“None can defeat the Evil Giant!” Grant shakes his leg, where another Taiikari kid clings to him like a monkey. “I’m invincible. I’m invulnerable. I’m in—”
Lady Anakai fastball specials herself into Grant’s midsection and knocks him backward onto the bounce house. The gaggle of spectators to their epic clash boing into the air as the Maekyonite lands.
“Victory for the warriors of Taiikar,” Ana crows, one tiny foot on Grant’s chest, as her nameday guests cheer and slowly return to the ground.
“I’m dead.” Grant demonstrates by sticking his tongue out. “I am off to Giant Heaven.”
Ana pouts. “I wanted to take you prisoner.”
“You’re simply too powerful.” Grant sits up and plucks her by her tail into the air. Her weight reasserts itself as he climbs from the bounce house. “Happy nameday, Lady Ana,” he says.
She bows upside down in an impressive display of core strength. “Thank you, Majesty.”
He places Ana on the turf and gives her a pat on the head, then strolls across the meadow toward the adults’ tables. It’s such a lovely day in the park, as long as you ignore the distant Qarnaq II lightning storm outside the agropolis dome, and the marine section loitering at the festive edges. The royal couple are sitting with the Countess and Count of Korak at a small side table that a queue of well-wishers and toadies parade past.
Wenzai is laughing at something Tikani just said around a mouthful of flaky layer cake. Sykora is staring at Grant, hand clapped over her mouth, tears glistening in her wide eyes. Grant’s so distracted by his weepy wife that he nearly trips over Orlo, who gives a brief “pardon me sire” as he scurries, knuof’i cake in hand, to his parents.
Wenzai holds up a finger to halt her son’s approach. “Up bup bup. Go climb dad, Orly Borly.”
Orlo frowns. “Why?”
“Mama’s talking to the Prince and Princess of the sector. And you’re getting too big for me, nameday boy.” She tousles his dark locks. “Look at your horns coming in. Gonna poke my eye out with one of these.”
Orlo solemnly crawls under the table and begins the trek up his father’s legs. Grant flops down next to Sykora on the picnic bench. “You okay, Kora?”
“Uh huh.” She sniffs and laughs through the tears. “Gods of Qarnaq, I’m such a faucet. I’m really all right.”
“Okay. Because I didn’t die for real, you know.”
She blows her nose loudly on the edge of her crimson sundress. “I just keep thinking about when I’ll watch you do that with ours.”
“Awwww.” Across the table Wenzai nudges her Kovikan husband. “Look at ‘em, Tik.”
“Stars in their eyes,” Tikani says.
“Not a single diaper changed between them.”
“Not yet.”
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Die, Giant!