Chapter Twenty-Five

It was hardly a happily ever after. Another thing with happily ever afters in books? The protagonists always had one or two perfectly peaceful, complacent, gorgeous, agreeable, polite, moderately Gifted and clean children.

That would have been nice, in Kalasin and Kaddar's case. Instead, they ended up having exactly four appallingly lively, loud, excitable, intelligent, gorgeous, reasonably polite and reasonably clean children. Of course, all four of them weren't moderately Gifted with something nice and pretty, like healing skills or plant or weather magic. Rather, Elissar, Kalahari, Emry, and Remus had all inherited war magic. Strong war magic.

It was really rather unfortunate that all of them, rather then being docile with their magic, liked blasting things.

"Oh, Kaddar, why this?" It had quickly become Kalasin's favorite phrase after Elissar had begun teething. She still remembered how the disaster had unfolded.

Zaimid had strutted into the nursery, bearing several large stuffed toys, a bag of baby carrots, and no less than ten teething rings. "Hello, Elissar, you wonderful little prince," he cooed. "Hello, beautiful Kally. You look absolutely gorgeous."

"I love you too, Zaimid," Kaddar cut in dryly. "You look rather handsome, too."

"I know, love," preened the chief healer. "But don't criticize. I come bearing tribute."

Elissar gurgled from his place on Kalasin's lap, looking joyful. At seven months, he had already learned that the appearance of Zaimid meant good things. His godfather sat down, presenting him with something big and clear with funny little bright things floating inside. It looked good.

Kaddar snorted with laughter as his son attempted to shove the entire teething ring into his mouth. Elissar looked a bit perplexed at the fact that it wouldn't go all the way in, and gave a squeak of a surprised hiccup. He seemed to be enjoying it, though, judging from his content mumblings.

"Finally," muttered Kalasin. "He's got something to bite aside from Beans' tail."

The three gave a collective shudder. The Imperial puppy had been deeply scarred by the experience, and now sat on his plumy golden tail whenever Elissar was in the general vicinity.

The baby was becoming frustrated with the teething ring. There was a little floating duck inside the ring, and he wanted the duck, and the duck wouldn't come out.

"My, he seems to have become rather fixated," Zaimid observed. "His face is getting red."

Kalasin was about to intervene, when the teething ring burst into flames. The liquid splattered on the floor, the plastic incinerated and turned into a ball of fire that hovered above Elissar's head, and the little duck toy fell out of the ring into his lap.

"Oh. Mithros." Kalasin began to wail. "What if he becomes a pyromaniac?"

"You…us…Elissar…seriously…"

"War magic? Oh, gods."

Elissar, oblivious to the shock he had caused, picked up his duck and hugged it.

--

So, they had been more prepared when little Kalahari Iliniat was born, about three years later. Not prepared for the actual news of a baby, no. The stunned couple had simply stared at each other for a few minutes.

"This is all your fault."

"How is this supposed to be my fault! The baby's in you, not me!"

"You're responsible for putting the baby in me!" she flailed.

"You were responsible for the charm!"

"It wasn't my fault it fell off!"

Kaddar buried his head in his hands. "This wasn't supposed to happen so soon."

The empress sighed. "It's been, what, a little less than two and a half years? People have been hinting."

"Fine."

"Fine. I'm taking all of the credit I can take without making myself sound like a biological freak."

A bit immature, yes, but they made peace with it after a while. And when their little Kalahari was born in December of 467, she was welcomed with joy by parents and elder brother alike. Elissar had stared gravely at his little sister for quite a while, before trying to pronounce her name. "Kalahari," enunciated Kaddar clearly.

Elissar took her little hand in his. "Kalhri."

"No, Kalahari."

"Kalri?"

"Kalahari."

"Kari!"

The couple exchanged wearied glances. "Kari it is, then," said Kalasin, ruffling his hair. "Do you think we should have picked something a bit more…pronounceable?"

"Pfft. It's not our fault Elissar has speech problems."

"Kaddar!"

"Fine, fine, just kidding." Kalahari looked up at him and gave a happy gurgling sound. She looked almost exactly like Elissar, except for the age difference and skin a few shades lighter. Kaddar wondered if she would be a war mage as well, and hoped not. Elissar was rather mild-tempered most of the time, but when upset, he had a rather uncanny knack for setting curtains on fire. Along with vases, gloves, tablecloths, and—anything flammable, really.

Kaddar resolved not to let Kalahari near teething rings for quite a while.

A lot had happened in the last three years. Some good, some bad, some ugly, and some just plain shocking. One of the more shocking events was Zaimid's marriage to a princess of the Copper Isles. Yes. Somebody had actually married Zaimid. Out of their own free will, at that. Zaimid was obviously besotted, but privately Kaddar doubted the woman's mental health.

Well, they would probably be a good match, then. Kaddar still remembered The Speech. Zaimid had gone down on his knees, pledged his undying adoration for Kalasin, and then went on into a heartfelt rambling session about how even though she would forever be his first love, it was time for him to move on to somebody who actually loved him back. However, he had said, wiping his eyes, if Kalasin ever showed an interest in taking a harem, he would be there for her.

And then Kaddar had kicked him out.

At least there had been no further mentions of harems since then. Zaimid had mellowed out a little since the birth of his son (in some misguided attempt to become a suitable role model) Mequen, who was a couple of months younger than Elissar. The two had become fast friends, and the quiet and meek Mequen could usually be found at Elissar's side, helping plot the dastardly scheme of the week.

Kalahari learned to walk by crawling at their heels and making the soles of Elissar's sandals smoke if he happened to walk too fast. Not like they were exactly sprinting away from her, though. After quite a few pairs of sandals were scorched, Elissar took one hand, reluctantly gave Mequen the other, and they took it into their own hands to teach her how to walk.

Old habits died hard, because fifteen years later, that was still where one could most easily find Kalahari Iliniat, except now Mequen wasn't allowed to hold her hand. No other male was, and her elder brother made sure of that. He glared at anybody who came in the general vicinity of her, and during parties where dancing was involved, he recruited the very trustworthy Mequen and a few select others to make sure no unworthy ones laid a hand on his sister.

Of course, Elissar had no way of knowing that Kalahari was madly in love with Mequen, and had been since she was five years old.

But that was another story.

Between Elissar, Kalahari, dealing with a country, and those associated stresses; Kalasin and Kaddar felt their life was very full. There was nothing else they needed or wanted.

It was Midwinter. A cold Midwinter, and Kalasin had rediscovered the sable blanket that Kaddar had given her for their first anniversary. It had been a long time since that sable blanket had been properly put to use, and after coupling it with the bearskin rug, some strawberries and a little bit of whipped cream, both Kalasin and Kaddar came to an agreement that that was the best night in history, ever.

There was lots of food at the Spring Festival three months later, and Kaddar was rather amazed at Kalasin. She just wouldn't stop eating. After the dinner, they had stopped at the kitchens for more food. And after about an hour of yet more eating, she had captured a huge plate of mango, watermelon, and coconut salad, for "a little snack, in case I get hungry later."

"You are a pig," said Kaddar, amazed. "If you keep eating, you'll get fat. And if you dare to get fat, I'll throw you in the dungeons and starve you."

"Delightful," she muttered back, "but you know, I'm not as terrified at the suggestion as I would have been about eight years ago. You're all bark and no bite. Remember your frequent threats to tie me up and ravish me?"

"The only reason I didn't actually do it was because I thought you would claw my shoulders until they bled. You're so ridiculously emphatic. Now, give me that watermelon!"

Kalasin shoved the piece in question into her mouth triumphantly, trying not to drip juice all over. "No!"

The emperor glared at her. "You ate the last piece."

"I know," she said smugly.

"I hope our children don't grow up like you."

"Better the watermelon-scarfing pig than the unbearable snot, though."

Kaddar made a sound between a growl and a snarl. "Sadist."

"Back at you, sweetheart," she said flirtatiously, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

"Mmm," he smirked at her. "Don't make promises you can't fulfill."

"What d'you mean, can't fulfill?"

He flopped down on the bed, and sighed deeply. "Last time, you got up on your knees, and then randomly fell on me. I think your big old coconut head almost crushed my chest. I'm lucky I didn't die a horrible death by squishage."

The empress flopped down next to him, before giving him the evil eye. "I was dizzy. But more importantly, are you calling me heavy? Are you calling me fat? I, Kalasin, the gracious and lovely queen of the Southern Lands, fat?"

"By no means am I doing such an atrocious thing," he replied smoothly, stroking her hand. "However, I do think your hearing and sense of balance are becoming affected by your old age."

"Old age? I, unlike you, just turned twenty-six. I, unlike you, am at the primeof my life. You, my lord, are old. Ancient. Creaky."

"With age comes wisdom."

"Antiquated old raisin!"

Kaddar raised an eyebrow at her. "If I wasn't so old and lazy, I'd reach over and thoroughly punish you for that statement."

"Please punish me?" she asked, rolling within reach. "I've been dreadfully sassy and deserve my due punishment. You've let me get away with too much lately…"

"Come here, you dreadful little brat."

--

The next morning, Kalasin woke up feeling vaguely nauseous. She dragged herself out of bed, barely managed to pull on her robe, and then came her mad dash to the bathroom, where she was violently ill.

"Aaargh," she moaned into the sink. Being ill was traumatizing. At least now her stomach had calmed down a tiny bit.

Well, that was what she had thought, until a fresh wave of nausea claimed her. And now there was dizziness, too. Kalasin clung to the edge of the sink, trying not to overbalance and fall over. Luckily, she suddenly felt a pair of strong arms holding her steady, and one hand swept her hair out of her way, while she threw up. Again.

"This is really embarrassing," she mumbled against Kaddar's shoulder.

He winced sympathetically and gave her a glass of something very green and minty-smelling. Kalasin accepted it, feeling a little shaky, and drank it down. Her stomach calmed slowly, and her mouth felt fresh again. "You all right?"

"No, I don't think so," she said, finishing up the last drops of the potion. "I'm so sick I'm not even hungry."

They stared at each other for a few minutes, slowly piecing everything together.

"Oh. No. No. No, no, no. No, this is not happening." Kaddar tried to convince himself, and then began to pace.

Kalasin clamped both hands over her mouth, horrified. "Oh, Mithros, yes it is. Why are you complaining? You don't have to have another one!"

"Yes, well, if you're pregnant we can't exactly burn up the sheets, can we?"

She dropped her head into her hands. "After this baby is born, I'm going to tattoo a pregnancy charm on my chest."

Kaddar sighed deeply, and pulled her into his arms, before giving her a reassuring kiss—as reassuring as things could get when both of them were panicking just a few moments ago—as they sat down on the armchair. "Try something a little more out-of-the-way," he murmured against her hair. "The small of your back? Bottom of your left shoulder blade?"

"Sounds good to me," Kalasin sat back against him and whimpered a little. "Elissar's six. Kalahari's four and a half. And one more, I guess…three sounds good enough for the succession, doesn't it?"

"Absolutely perfect, no more, two children and one in the rather near future is enough to keep Zaimid safely away from the throne."

"Agreed."

--

The Imperial Palace celebrated at the news of the latest addition to the Iliniat family. However, there was one person who found this bit of information very distressing. So he called a war council.

"Where is the tablecloth?" hissed Elissar Iliniat, trying to shrink under the huge table. "We could be discovered, somebody could invade, and we could be seen by the enemy—"

"Enemy? What enemy?" Kalahari tugged at her brother's tunic, round-eyed. "Are the Gallans going to kill us and set our heads on fire and use them for table ornaments?"

"No, silly," sighed Elissar. "Gallans are the cannibals. Scanrans are the ones who kill people and set their heads on fire and use them for table ornaments."

The princess whimpered.

The door to the empty drawing room opened and closed hurriedly, and the tapping of little boots could be heard. Kalahari's eyes flew open, recognizing the boots. She made for a lunge out of the table, but her brother grabbed the back of her dress and pulled her back. "Quiet! What if it's a spy? Password?" he asked authoritatively.

There was a sigh from outside. "Pickled toes."

"Let him in!" Kalahari peered out from under the table. "Come on, Mequen."

Mequen scurried under the table quickly, careful not to bump himself against the table's legs. He looked a bit rumpled, and his dark brown hair was in a state of disarray. "Sorry about the tablecloth," he said, glancing around the new meeting room. "I tried to get one from Mama and then little Saru climbed on me and made me play pony with her."

There were winces of sympathy all around. "What's the meeting about?" asked Kalahari at last, observing her brother and friend. "Is it important? You made my doggy Beans stand guard outside."

"You mean you don't know?" scoffed Elissar, with all the wisdom and knowledge of his six years. "And he's my doggy too, Kari. Now, both of you, come here. We have to make sure nobody hears us."

The three children huddled close, and Elissar began to mutter conspiringly. "It's about Mama and Papa."

"What's happening?"

"Mama's going to have…" he paused for dramatic effect, and lowered his voice, "a baby."

Two voices gasped in unison.

"Really?" asked Mequen, sitting down hard. "But…but…why didn't we know about this?" His voice rose to a bit of a distressed wail at the end of the sentence. As the official captain of intelligence, his job was to know these things. And falling down on his job could be fatal. One day babies, the next day random foreign invasions.

Kalahari scuffed her sandal against the floor, her brow furrowing in thought. "A baby? A…little sister?"

"Not a little sister," Elissar scoffed. "Taking care of you is hard enough. I don't want any more girls."

Dreadfully offended, Kalahari moved close to Mequen and stuck her tongue out. "I don't like you either. Mequen's going to be my new brother. You can keep the baby."

The prince sniffed in disdain. "I don't want the baby. Mama and Papa can keep it. And you can't go with Mequen," he said, eyeballing the two suspiciously, and Mequen fidgeted as Kalahari, not intimidated, grabbed his hand and made a face at Elissar.

There was a tense silence under the drawing room table for a few minutes as the three children stared each other down.

Mequen was the first to break down. "This is tearing us all apart," he announced glumly. "It's not even born yet, and—"

"And it's ruining things already," completed Elissar.

Kalahari slouched, disregarding all the posture lessons that had been drilled into her young head, and gave the world-weary sigh she had learned from her father. "I wish it would go away. What if Mama and Papa won't want us after it's born?"

"They still wanted Elissar after you were born," offered Mequen sensibly. "And my mama and papa still wanted me after they got Saru."

His wise words went unheeded, because now Elissar was fretting, too. "What if Beans likes the new baby more than he likes me and Kari?"

At the mention of her precious puppy, Kalahari inhaled sharply. With all the fierce determination of her four and a half years, she put her chin in the air and squared her shoulders. That was the final straw. "No," she said, stamping her foot. "No, I don't want a baby and I'm going to tell Mama and Papa, and then they can stop the baby from coming." Looking around at the rather shocked faces of her war council, she adjusted her little tiara regally. "Who's with me?"

Mequen was first to bow to the imperial charisma, and he nodded. "I am, Kari. I'll help you protest."

Elissar glared at his best friend for a moment. "Okay, fine, I'll help too."

The three children struggled out of their hiding place, before going and standing near the door. "Remember, we have to make sure nobody knows about our plan," Elissar advised sternly. "We have no society. We have no council. We are not the secret force that keeps this empire running smoothly."

Kalahari and Mequen nodded obediently.

"Kari, you have dust on your braid and on your dress. Mequen, you have a dust bunny on your head."

Mequen wrinkled his nose, after sneezing and brushing the bunny off. "We need a better meeting place," he said, before giving both ends of the deserted hallway a covert glance and bounding off.

Kalahari and Elissar followed after a suitable amount of time, as Beans had long since abandoned his guard duty for something more enjoyable, like following his mommy Kalasin around the palace and looking menacing when his human master tried to touch her.

"So, this is it, Kari," said Elissar finally, giving her hand a squeeze. "This is the scheme on which all of our hopes for the future rest. We can't mess things up. We need to be serious and devoted to the purpose."

Kalahari nodded, and almost tripped over her hem. She offered the passing Duke Samjan a sunny smile, and he gave what could almost be described as a lovesick sigh. "Elissar?"

"Mmm?"

"Before we start the purpose, can we go to the kitchens and ask Aunt Varice for chocolate?"

Elissar considered. "We need to do co—coin—" he stumbled over the word he had overheard another councilor use so easily. "Coinsinnuring! We need to do coinsinnuring after that, Kari."

"Chocolate, then coinsinnuring," repeated Kalahari, nodding her head decisively.

The siblings made their way to the kitchens with hardened resolve. The plan was on.

---

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Connoisseur. -dead- That's what Elissar was going to say. Because he's simply too fancy to say "spying and gathering information." .;;

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