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The second Prince had boarded her ship. Well, boarded was perhaps too strong a word. Ke’d slipped on while she was preparing to launch, and not found kes way to the cockpit until they were already at slipstream speed. Had it been the Crown Prince, or Haggar’s apprentice, Odalis may have worried. Those two were exceedingly capable for their age, and near enough to full grown they could’ve actually posed a threat. The second-born Prince, though... well, ke was actually kind of cute, waving kes little toy sword at her and claiming ke was going to take her prisoner for desertion.
“And how do you plan to do that, kit?” she chuckled, setting the autopilot and standing from the pilot’s chair. “I’m much bigger than you, after all.”
“Yeah, but I’ve got a sword.” ke said, lifting kes little chin. “And you don’t. That means I win.”
“Really?” she stepped forward, pooling power in her hand, letting it snap and crackle between her fingers. “Even if I use my magics on you?”
“You don’t scare me.” ke said, and Odalis laughed. Ke was brave, that was for sure. Brave enough to endure waiting for rescue, all alone in an escape pod. It would leave her and her children without one, but better that than to have the Empire chasing her down for abducting one of the Princes. She flicked her wrist, and a pulse of quintessence knocked the kit’s sword out of kes hands.
“I have no use for a royal brat.” she said, and reached out to catch him by the front of his tunic.
Ke flinched. The kit flinched, but made no move to protect ketself, just squeezed kes eyes shut and stood there, body deliberately loose in a way that made Odalis see red. Ke expected to be struck. Ke’d been struck often enough that ke had learnt not to tense up before the blow. The Princes were famously close, both to each other and to Haggar’s apprentice, so it must have been one of their caretakers. Perhaps even more than one.
“But then... kits aren’t kept for having use.” she murmured, dropping to a crouch and cupping kes cheek, still soft with youth. Kes eyes squinted open, then ke blinked at her in clear confusion.
“But... I’m capturing you?”
“Mm, nope.” Odalis grinned, giving kes cheek a gentle pinch. Ke scowled, and swatted her hand away. “I’m keeping you, kit. I’ve already got a whole litter in my care, what’s one more?”
“But- but-”
“No buts.” Odalis said firmly, tapping him on the nose. “Come with me, I’ll introduce you to your new siblings.”
“But I don’t want new siblings!” Ke whined, dragging kes heels as she led ket towards the room she’d left her children in for takeoff. “I want my siblings!”
“Won’t it be nice to have more, though?” she asked, and ke pulled kes hand right out of hers.
“No!” he stomped a foot, tears beading at the edges of his eyes. “I want Lolo!”
“Lolo isn’t here, kit.” Odalis soothed, kneeling to catch kes hands in hers again.
“I want Lolo!” ke demanded again, tears spilling over down kes cheeks. “Lolo!” ke screamed, when she opened her mouth, then broke down in wretched, ugly sobs.
Odalis shifted kes hands to hold them both in one of hers, and wiped kes tears away with her freed one. “Hush, now.” she said softly. “You’re seven deca-phoebs old, you’re far too big to be throwing a tantrum.”
The tears stopped, and ke glared at her, tiny round face screwed up in a fearsome pout. “That usually works.” ke huffed, and Odalis flicked the middle of kes forehead.
“No tantrums here, okay?” she cupped kes cheek. “It’s okay to cry if you’re upset, but don’t cry to get something.”
The kit grumbled, but pulled a hand free to scrub at kes teary eyes, and didn’t resist this time when she led ket along to the room which would likely become a playroom for the duration of their hopefully-brief voyage. Five little heads turned towards her when the door opened, and all of her children openly stared to see another child at her side.
“Everyone, meet your new sibling.” she said, releasing kes hand to rest her hand on kes head instead. “Ke tagged along as we left, and I expect you to be nice to ket while ke adjusts.”
“What’s kes name?” Fernanda asked, mandibles clicking in curiosity.
“He is right here.” the kit huffed, crossing his arms. Ah, right, the Princes had been tested at birth to determine their future presentations.
“Well, what’s your name?” Fernanda asked, and the kit at her side gave a smile which on an adult may have been threatening. With a mouth full of milk teeth and a precious round little face though, the effect was rather lost.
“Prince Lance Calinor, second in line for the throne of the Galra Empire.” he drew himself up to attention and snapped a fist to his sternum in a picture perfect salute.
“Mama, do we hafta be nice?” Amalia whined, and Odalis sighed.
“Yes, Ama.” she chided, giving her newest kit a gentle push between the shoulder blades. He and Amalia were the same age, but he was larger than ket, Some of Fernanda’s old clothes may fit, though the arm holes would be comically oversized with only one pair of arms to go through them. “Isi, can you mind them a little longer? I need to find some proper clothes for Lance.”
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Lance frowned up at her. Naked suspicion was far preferable to the fear she’d seen earlier, but hopefully with some time and love he would grow out of both.
“They’re a bit fancy for playing in, aren’t they?” she asked rhetorically. They also made him stand out among the rest of her children, and she wouldn’t be surprised if there were trackers woven into the fabric as a precaution against kidnappers. She should be able to fry any tech worked into them with her magic, but first she had to get them off of the kit’s body.
“You look stupid.” Fernanda said, and Lance whirled to face her with a positively adorable attempt at a threat display.
“Fernanda.” Odalis snapped, and the kit huffed.
“I’ve got it from here, Mama.” Isidora promised with a smile.
“I will be right back.” Odalis promised, and gave Lance one last pat on the head. “Play nice, okay?”
“Fine.” he huffed, but he tangibly leaned into her hand when she scratched along the ridge of his uppermost cranial plate.
“I’ll be just down the hall. Shout if you need anything.” she promised, and pulled herself away. Her mate would’ve called this foolhardy, would’ve counselled her to stick the kit in a pod and leave him for a patrol to find. But her mate was gone, dead at Haggar’s hands for passing information to a resistance Odalis had never even heard of. Odalis hated her, just a little, for having kept such a huge secret. But she could not hate the child who’d come to her seeking to win his father’s approval.
Lance may have been raised to be blindly loyal to his father’s Empire, but he was young yet, only seven deca-phoebs. There was still time for him to learn better, to realise that heritage did not define them, to grow into a better person than his father. And besides, what sort of mother would she be if she just sent a kit back to caretakers who struck him with enough frequency he knew not to tense up against the blow? For that alone, not even her mate would’ve been able to sway her from her decision.
Now, where had she put that crate of old clothes?