Rush followed Saldon to his father’s office. He half felt like a boy going to the headmaster’s office. The other half of him was a man with purpose.

“How do you like Marcomal?” Rush made small talk.

Saldon gave him a dirty look over his shoulder. “The armpit of the universe.”

“Could be worse.” He wanted to tell him of other places, but he doubted Saldon would be interested in knowing about them.

“I’d rather not have firsthand knowledge of that.”

“Understandable.” For a prick who was raised with every privilege a station could afford. And even more, since he’d entered Rush’s father’s employ.

Saldon stopped in front of a door in the plush carpeted hallway decorated with accessories that would have made any Zamanese Cardinal Few proud. He made a show of knocking, ending with a flourished wave.

“You enjoy what you do, don’t you?” It wasn’t a question. It was obvious Saldon relished his station in life. Probably aspired to be a governor himself, though that was unlikely to happen based on how aggressively the Zamanese Cardinal Few guarded political positions and only promoted from within their elite group.

This made Rush ever so happy he’d left that way of life behind.

“Enter.” His father’s voice came from the other side of the door.

Saldon stepped aside, Rush strode inside, closing the door behind him so they could have privacy. His father was seated behind a desk carved from the largest bones of a species long extinct on Janus. Not one killed by the natives, but one lost to nature ages ago.

Their huge bones littered the desert, and few were willing to risk travel to the desolate and dangerous regions to collect them and then commission a bone sculptor to carve the massive forms. But those who did, did so at a nice profit.

“Fancy desk.”

His father looked down at the ivory behemoth with inlaid wood chips. “Thank you. It’s from Jeweler’s personal collection.”

“You seem well-connected with even the criminal elements on Marcomal. Does Saldon know or even approve of your association with Jeweler?”

His father released a healthy laugh. “He should have been born a Cardinal Few. I’m not highbrow enough.”

“Evidently, nor am I.” Rush smiled at the ease in his father’s manner. He’d felt guilty for leaving without a word for so many years, but his father was making him feel comfortable with their reunion.

His father approached, his steps silent on the thick carpet. “How did everything go with Katrina?”

Rush chewed on his lip, half-shrugged. “I wanted to talk to you about my leaving home. After Mother died. Why I did it. What I’ve done. Letting you think I was dead…”

His father put a hand on Rush’s shoulder. “I never thought you were dead. That was Saldon’s notion.” He leaned against the desk, studying Rush. “Did you really think I didn’t know you were safe? Alive? Did you think I didn’t know exactly where you were?”

Rush did a double take. “What does that mean?”

“It means, one day, when you’re a father, and the son you love more than life itself, borne of the only woman you’ve ever loved, decides to leave your life, you’ll understand.”

Rush felt goose bumps on his arms as he absorbed his father’s words.

He continued, “Did you think I’d leave any stone unturned to find you? That I’d not pay any price to know you were safe?”

A lump formed in Rush’s throat. He swallowed it. “I’m sorry.”

“You are more like me than you realize. And, at the same time, so very much like her.”

Her. Rush’s mother. By the volcanic ash that fell from the heavens, Rush missed her now more than ever.

“You loved her,” he told his father.

“More than you’ll ever know.” Then his father raised a hand. “No. I think now you know. I think you know exactly how much I loved her, because… Katrina.”

Rush nodded. He really wasn’t able to keep his father from seeing the truth.

“Will you be handfasting her?”

“How can I? The government. The contract.” He exhaled, defeated.

“Circumstance of birth has made us Zamanese royalty as members of the Cardinal Few. That’s not a position I ever wanted…”

“What?”

His father nodded. “Nor was it one your mother relished. We played the roles we were born into, as best as we could. It was her wish you pursue your own dreams, your own happiness. She wanted nothing more for you. I could not vocalize that blessing. I had to be the hard ass who kept you on the straight and narrow.”

“But—”

His father put his hand on Rush’s arm. “But when you left, I cheered. And then I immediately assembled a group of men who followed you, some even worked with you on the Javelin.”

Rush’s jaw dropped. “I never knew.”

“They were the best. And they had one mission and one alone. To make sure my son lived through his adventures, however long those should last.” His father put his hands on Rush’s shoulders and hugged him fiercely.

Rush was choked up. All this time, he was avoiding a father he thought wanted something from him that—

He clenched his jaw. He’d been so mistaken.

“Now what?” His father’s voice broke, emotions evident on a face that was much like what Rush’s would be in half a lifetime.

It stunned him how much he looked like his father. “I’m not sure.”

“Seems the girl is the priority now, isn’t she?”

“She is. For me.”

“She feels the same way.” His father reached for a ceremonial quill Rush remembered from his childhood. “Present from your mother when I received my first appointment in the government. She liked to laugh about that position. It was our own private joke because neither of us had much use for politics.”

Rush smiled. “I never knew.”

“You probably didn’t know her father had forbidden her to handfast with me.”

“Really? Is that why we never…? I never…? Why he wasn’t part of our life?”

His father pursed his lips. “He disowned your mother for marrying beneath her.”

“Beneath her? She was Cardinal Few, too.”

“Yes, but even amongst the Few, there are hierarchies. And her father’s station was above my own father’s.”

“She never spoke of that to me.” Rush was stunned. His parents’ story was not the simple history he’d thought it was. So many complications.

“Now you know why she encouraged you to pursue your dreams with all your heart. She was fiercely adamant you be what you wanted to be.”

“And why you pushed me to toe the line.”

“I didn’t want you to regret your choices.”

“Did my mother ever regret them?”

His father’s brows drew down in concentration. “Never.” He paused. “I see your point.”

Rush sighed. “I see yours.”

“Now, back to the girl. You can’t not have her in your life. It would be too much like my own life after I lost your mother.”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts. You’re one of the Few. She’s got a contract to fulfill, and you’re going to help her fulfill it.”

“Yes, but there’s—”

His father raised his hand. “Stop. Don’t tell me about anything that might involve any illegal acts that may compromise her life, or yours, or either of your happiness.”

“I don’t want to bring any prob—”

Again, his father raised his hand, this time he set it on Rush’s chest. “Son. Halt. I need full deniability. If there’s ever trouble, I can’t help you if I’m in the same boat.”

“Understood.”

“She needs transport to Janus to fulfill her obligations to the Zamanese government. I’m going to provide an Official Letter of Escort. That will give the Javelin guaranteed and unobstructed passage to Janus. In essence, the Javelin will be a government vessel.”

Rush smiled wryly. “Caayn’s going to love that.” Sarcasm bled into his tone.

“It’s temporary. You can tell him I said so. After that, you can all go back to his… your ways.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not done. When you arrive in Asmute, contact the governor. Show him your identification. Tell the governor you’re the son of the Governor of Marcomal, and you’re there to assist in the Zamanese government’s efforts in Operation Outreach, the program which will allow us to cement relations with Earth’s governments.”

“You’ve really thought this through.”

“I don’t have much more to occupy my evenings with these days.”

Rush hugged his father. Hugged him hard and long, for all the years he’d missed. “I’ll make you proud.”

“I’ve always been proud of you. Keep making your mother proud.”