Page 64 of Secret Twins for the Alien Dad

Istare at the three children in front of me as they tumble around on the throne room floor.

Can I see any resemblance to Balak in their young faces? I catch just a glimpse of my dead brother’s nose here, his chin there. I barely knew his wife, so whatever features might belong to her are lost on me.

The one thing I’m certain of is that the male’s pale blue skin will eventually deepen to Balak’s royal indigo.

One of the triplets lets out a squawk as another one sits on her face. The high-pitched noise is surprisingly loud and echoes around the high ceiling of the throne room. I wince.

Balak and I weren’t close, but family is family. I know it’s my responsibility to care for his toddlers now that he’s gone, even if I have no idea what to do with these little monsters. I don’t even know their names.

“My King?”

I lift my head. My chief financial advisor is standing at the double-doored entrance. He raises an eyebrow as he takes in the rambunctious playing of my new charges.

“Yes, Larim? What is it?”

“King Kravath, your council meeting? It began a few minutes ago.”

I curse and stand up abruptly. It isn’t like me to forget my responsibilities.

I glare at the triplets. Having to deal with them has distracted me from my duties, which is a problem.

No sooner have I thought this that the problem gets worse.

A shattering wail bursts through the air of the throne room. One of the little females has the other one’s ear between her fingers and is pulling—hard. The little male child begins laughing hysterically and poking his siblings.

“Enough!” I bellow, striding over to them. This only makes the upset one cry harder. Instinctively, I pick her up, so that her sister can no longer yank at her ear.

Unfortunately, that means I now have a screaming child in my arms.

I hold her out in front of me and try to jiggle her, as I have a vague memory of seeing my mother do the same with my youngest brother. Rather than being calmed, the child yells even louder, which I can’t help but think is quite a feat for such tiny lungs.

For no reason that I can see, the other two triplets decide to join in.

Now, all three toddlers are howling fit to call down the Divine Ones, and I feel ridiculous. A king should not appear so stupid, bested by a mere child two years of age. I tuck the girl under one arm and use the other to beckon to a page standing near the dais.

“You! Come take this!”

The page scurries forward and hesitantly accepts his sobbing burden. Clearly, he has no more idea what to do than I. I am unbothered by this.

He is an attendant and I am a king, with royal responsibilities. Better that this page, rather than I, waste time attempting to figure out how to soothe a young one.

Larim and I exit the throne room, the sounds of distressed triplets following us down the hallway. We’re both grimacing.

“My King, may I offer a suggestion?” asks my advisor, tentatively.

“Please do,” I reply. “My brother seems to have made no plans for the care of his offspring. Of course, it was right for me to bring them here, but none of my staff has experience with children.”

“Well, I’m sure the former Prince of the Second Isle could not have anticipated the accident that claimed him and his lovely wife,” says Larim, in a diplomatic tone. “I imagine he did not think it necessary to make plans for the chance his children should become orphans.”

“My brother was foolish not to prepare for any and all possibilities. Your suggestion, Larim?” I’m impatient. I don’t need the man to hedge around.

“Ah—I would take this opportunity to remind my Lord that it would be prudent for you to take a wife.”

I glare at my advisor, and he nearly trips over his feet.

“I don’t want a wife or need one right now,” I say, firmly.

“But my King, you need to ensure you have an heir,” persists Larim, more bravely than I’d have thought. “And a wife could care for Prince Balak’s children.”

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