Page 20 of I Married Kayog
A strange expression fleeted over his features, piquing my curiosity.
“What?” I asked, intrigued.
“Many students come here because their families expect them to pursue their legacy,” Kayog said carefully. “Did you come here to follow in the path of your parents or grandmother?”
I smiled. “Yes and no. I didn’t go into galactic politics for my parents, but definitelybecauseof them and my nan. My entire life, I’ve been exposed to the many things I can help change if I enter this field. My nan wanted me to become a counselor like her.”
“I bet,” he said with an amused smile. “Frankly, I’m surprised she didn’t convince you. Arika Sorek is extremely well-known as a fierce and no-nonsense advocate who you do not want to go up against. She’ll chew you up and spit you out without you ever even understanding what hit you.”
“That couldn’t be more accurate,” I said with a laugh. “But I couldn’t see myself spending my life in boardrooms dealing with the same handful of high-ranking idiots and counselors. I want to travel the galaxy like my parents and have a direct impact on the lives of the most vulnerable.”
“An admirable objective,” Kayog said, his eyes brimming with an approval that had me tingling all over.
“So that’s me in a nutshell. What about you?” I asked. “Any other genius siblings like you? Is your family in the same field?”
An unreadable expression crossed his face. For a split second, I believed he was going to deflect and avoid answering the question. To my pleasant surprise, he didn’t.
“I don’t know, and I doubt it,” he said with a shrug before tossing his last trail mix cracker into his mouth.
“Huh?” I asked, baffled.
He smiled. “My parents ditched me when I was an infant. So I have no idea if I have any siblings or what field they worked in.”
I pressed my palm to my chest, my heart breaking for the baby he had been. “Ditched you?” I echoed, crestfallen.
He nodded, his reassuring smile making it clear he held no trauma or distress over it.
“I was put in stasis inside a child emergency pod. It was sent directly to an orphanage in the small town of Voln,” he said factually.
My eyes widened. “Voln?” I repeated.
He gave me an approving smile that I had picked up on it.
“Yes. I was named after that village on Daelynn, the homeworld of the Darwandir.”
“Oh Maker! Did their ship crash? Or were they attacked by pirates?” I asked, trying to make sense as to why parents would discard their newborn child like that.
If they had access to an emergency pod built specifically for a child, then they had access to all the technology and services available to support parents who chose not to keep their child. There was no shame or stigma associated with renouncing one’s rights to their offspring. Better they be placed in a safe environment that could nurture their growth than keep them forcefully in a situation where they weren’t wanted and made their guardians miserable.
“Nothing like that. The pod was launched from a forest located 75 kilometers away. They included a note with my first name in which they apologized but stated that my needs exceeded their capacity to handle.”
“Your needs?!” I exclaimed, both outraged and baffled. “What needs could you possibly have as an infant that would overwhelm them to the point that standard family support and advanced technology couldn’t help cater to?”
Kayog gave me an indulgent smile. “I was a very... difficult child.”
“Difficult how?” I insisted. “And how old were you?”
“I was four months old.”
“What the fuck?!” I exclaimed, anger seeping into my voice.
He chuckled and gave me a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Linsea. As bad as it looks when you hear this, I cannot blame them. I had some significant... health issues. Any parent in their situation would have probably resorted to the same thing.”
My tongue burned with the urge to drill deeper and make him go into extensive details as to what condition an infant could possibly have to justify being abandoned the way he had been. However, that he kept it vague indicated that he wasn’t ready to expose what had to be very personal medical history. After all, we were still strangers.
The glimmer of gratitude that flashed through his eyes confirmed I had made the right decision by not forcing the issue. The last thing I wanted was for him to close himself off because I was being too nosey.
“For the first couple of years, I was shuffled around a lot,” Kayog continued, his face taking on a faraway expression as he reminisced. “Nobody wanted to keep me. I cried too much, and nothing they could do ever appeased me. Everyone was at a loss as to what the problem could be.”
