A Child’s Tears
© 2025 by Walter Reimer


The next day was bright and sunny as Alys and her new guard sergeant stood at the base of the stairs of the palace, watching a dozen armored vehicles come up the long drive. A series of aircraft and drones orbited overhead just in case an attack came from above. While they couldn’t be seen with the unaided eye, the planetary defense force was in synchronous orbit, on guard as the Emperor and his brother returned to the al-Sakai Family home.

Each of the vehicles, although resembling a standard limousine, was well-armored and carried almost as many weapons as a destroyer, including defensive shielding. The artigrav was necessary or the weight of one vehicle could buckle the roadbed beneath it. One of the identical vehicles carried Vladmir and Farukh; which one was always a matter of conjecture.

Alys glanced at Sergeant Singh and noted with satisfaction that the leopard mel wasn’t looking at her but scanning the skies and the tree line. Good, she thought. He was doing what he’d been chosen to do.

The fourth vehicle came to a stop, lowering until it hovered just a few centimeters above the ground, and with a slight creak one of the passenger doors shifted forward before rising. Farukh and Vladmir got out before the door opened fully and ran toward their mother.

“Mother!” Farukh said as he ran. He and Vladmir collided with Alys, almost causing her to stagger backward as they hugged her.

Two young faces looked up at her, and she felt her tail fluff at the sight of their faces wet with tears. Maternal instincts kicked in and she crouched, holding them closer and nuzzling them as her tail began to twitch.

Someone has made my children cry, she thought.

Someone will pay for that.

For now, questions could wait; she hugged her children, kissing and nuzzling and comforting them while their tutor and governor got out of the vehicle. She glanced up and saw that they, too, looked distressed. Whatever had happened, it hadn’t come from them.

She held her sons close and when their crying had subsided she asked, “What happened?”

Farukh sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve, hiccupping slightly as he got himself under control. Vladmir recovered a little faster. “So, we were,” he paused to catch his breath, “we were h-having breakfast.” Their mother nodded encouragingly, and her eldest added, “And . . . And Marcella told us that she’d heard something.”

“Oh? What did she hear?” Alys asked.

Vladmir closed his eyes, nodded and swallowed hard. “She, she said that she’d heard that F-Fa, Father was s-still alive.”

The leopardess frowned and looked up at her son’s tutor and governor. “Who’s this Marcella?” she asked, surprised at how she’d managed to keep the anger from her voice.

“The daughter of Lord Shor, Ma’am,” the boys’ governor said crisply.

The Indochinese leopardess gave a soft, almost feral growl as she stood, gathering her sons close to her and turning to head up the stairs and into the house. “I will speak to Lord Shor,” she said in a flat tone as she walked away, Sergeant Singh falling in behind her.