Issue 45 (Jan. 2015)
To my dearest little girl—
Know that this is painful for me to write. You may not be so little by the time you read this and I’m sure a lot of people will have told you a lot of nasty things about me between now and then. But you need to know—from me, no less—why you have grown up without a mother.
I am Prince Elwin of Norland. I have been Prince for fifteen years. My land from sea to mountain owes obeisance to its rightful Lord.
So I’m furious to be deposed by a back-stabbing bastard in the stable-yard of an inn. I’ve been travelling with my retinue, making our slow Autumn loop round the North of my Kingdom. Now my treacherous Uncle Harlow sips his beer, and hems and haws.
“Fact is, we’ve got a new Prince.”
The wedding ceremony was over: the judge had filed their license and the regional and global computers had accepted it. Vester thought he would worry that the farspace Exploratory Corps would know, just as quickly–but he did not worry. He was married, to Edward, the man he loved: the man he would do everything with, the man he would adopt and raise children with. His future would be with Edward, no matter what else happened. Shipwrecked together they’d had nothing, at first, but bare survival and each other. The ‘each other’ was important: everything else would work out, Corps careers or not.