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My father gives me a shrewd look. “With the funds we acquired from selling you, you mean? Yes, I suppose we have. We invested the money, and your brother married into a wealthy family and increased our fortunes. Our family name is revered on Praxii Minor, our lineage impeccable.”
“Which is why it is perfect that you return,” my mother coos. “Your name is one of honor and strength. You proved yourself over and over again in the arenas. To have you return to head the family would bring us great honor and even more wealth.”
“You would want for nothing,” my father says. “Every door would be open to you.”
I should be elated. It is the culmination of every dream I ever had as a child. Perhaps it is even every dream I had as an adult, as well. To return home to my family as the heir. The hero. To be needed and for all to look up to me. To be important and revered amongst the praxiian houses.
My parents are smiling encouragingly. They know this is a great honor they have set before me. I should be elated…and yet I feel hesitant. There have been no words of approval of my career. No words of how they missed me. No one has asked how I have been for the last thirty years. They have not asked if I suffered. If I was lonely. If I hurt.
They have not asked how many times my life was in danger, how many times I came close to losing a vicious battle—and thus my life. They have not asked, because it is not important to them.
I am not important to them, I realize. I am simply an honorable way for them to carry on our family line, unbroken. I am a means to an end.
And yet…what a life they have offered to me.
Oddly enough, I am disappointed. There will be no words of affection, no loving remorse, no apologies for selling their son into slavery. In their eyes, it was honorable, normal. I was the one that was enslaved, though. I know how awful that life was. The fact that they sold me into it without a second thought leaves a wound on my soul, and after today’s visit, it is no closer to healing than it ever was.
I find myself wanting to leave this room behind, to leave this entire cantina and space station behind. To retreat to my quarters on The Little Sister and bury my head in Kim’s arms. She will be angry on my behalf. She will be furious at them, when I cannot be.
“Well?” my mother says, confused. “Are you not elated?”
I shrug. “There are many things to think about. It is not a decision to be made lightly.”
They exchange a look. “What is there to possibly think of? We are offering you wealth and honor. Prestige. You will lead our illustrious house—”
I shake my head, getting to my feet. “I am already wealthy. I already have glory.” Perhaps not at the levels they offer, but enough. “I must discuss this with my mate.”
“Oh. You have a mate?” My mother grimaces. “That is inconvenient, but easily handled. Once we heard from your bounty hunter companion, we have made arrangements to unite with another house. A quite wealthy one. I am sure they will not mind if you have a concubine, but of course, your first mate will need to be put aside.”
“I am not putting Kim aside,” I growl, my hackles rising. “We were wed in a legal contract.”
“A legal contract, why?” My father frowns. “Such things are unnecessary and foolish.”
“She’s human. They have unnecessary and foolish laws, but it made her happy.” I smile thinking of just how happy it made her. Like for the first time in a long time, she was a person in someone’s eyes again. I would not take that from her.
But they are looking at me with sheer horror.
“A human?” my mother asks in a withering tone, her hand going to her jeweled throat. “You…you married one?”
“I did. She makes me quite happy.” I expected them to be less than thrilled, but the sheer disgust on their faces is something else. “Kim remains at my side. She is not negotiable.”
“But your children—”
“Would be half-human, yes.”
My father sputters. “You would pollute our proud bloodline with human filth?”
I arch a brow at him, baring my fangs. “Watch it. You are speaking about the female I love. She is my mate, and you will respect her.”
“Son.” My father approaches, his tail clinking and tinkling as it drags on the cantina floor. He moves to my side and tries to put a hand on my shoulder, but I shrug him away. “I know humans are enjoyable in bed, but think about your duty to family. The heir must marry a strong bloodline so the praxiian people can continue to raise fierce, strong sons—”
