Soma Locke had survived his own birth, an encounter with a suspiciously advanced medical professional, and the humiliation of vomiting directly into his father's mustache. He was beginning to believe the worst was behind him. He was mistaken. Terribly mistaken. Because on the fifth morning of his new life, Soma discovered the greatest threat House Locke had to offer. His siblings. The morning began peacefully enough.
Warm sunlight spilled through the enormous windows of the nursery, illuminating polished wooden floors and pale-blue curtains embroidered with silver flowers. A gentle breeze carried the fragrance of the gardens below, where gardeners tended elaborate flowerbeds surrounding a marble fountain. Soma lay in his bassinet, staring at the painted ceiling. For the past several days, he'd devoted himself to understanding his new circumstances.
His body was healthy, if entirely uncooperative. His vision had begun improving, though anything beyond a few feet remained frustratingly indistinct. His hearing, thankfully, seemed excellent. Unfortunately, that meant he could hear everything. Servants speaking in the hallway. Carriages rattling through the courtyard. Birds calling from the gardens. And, most recently, the rapidly approaching sound of several people arguing outside his door.
"I should go first."
"Why?"
"Because I'm the eldest."
"That's not a good reason!"
"It's an excellent reason."
"You're just going to stare at him."
"At least I won't drop him."
"I WOULD NOT DROP HIM!"
Soma stared toward the doorway. Oh, that doesn't sound promising. A smaller voice cut through the argument.
"I wanna see Bubba!"
"Serena, stop pulling my sleeve."
"BUBBA!"
Bubba?
Soma considered the possibilities. There was a rather unpleasant chance that someone had decided to name a household pet Bubba. Then the nursery doors opened. And six children poured inside. Oh. Oh, no. At the front stood a tall young man with neatly combed blond hair and the composed expression of someone who had already discovered the exhausting responsibilities of being the eldest sibling.
Behind him came another boy, only slightly shorter, with dark blond hair and watchful emerald eyes. He moved with the confidence of someone accustomed to being listened to. A third boy followed, wearing an enormous grin that immediately made Soma suspicious. Two more children entered together—a boy and girl whose matching features suggested they were twins.
And finally, a little girl with pale-blue hair slipped between them, spotted the bassinet, and gasped as though she'd discovered buried treasure.
"BABY!"
She charged. Soma's eyes widened.
INCOMING!
Fortunately, a hand caught the little girl around the waist before she could climb directly into his bassinet.
"Serena," the eldest boy said patiently, "we discussed this."
"But I wanna hold him!"
"You can look at him."
"That's boring!"
The grinning boy leaned over the bassinet.
"Hey there, little brother."
Soma stared back. The boy grinned wider.
"Wow. He looks angry."
"He doesn't look angry," the girl twin replied.
"He looks exactly like Father when somebody interrupts dinner."
Soma considered this assessment. Well, at least one of you possesses a functioning brain. The eldest brother stepped forward.
"I'm Stephan," he said gently. "Your oldest brother."
Soma watched him. Stephan smiled.
"Don't worry. I'll make sure these idiots don't bother you too much."
"HEY!" three voices protested.
Stephan didn't even turn around.
"Simon, Sean, give him some space."
The dark-blond boy folded his arms.
"I'm giving him space."
"You're standing on my foot."
"That sounds like your problem."
Soma blinked. Ah. Sibling diplomacy. A sophisticated art. Stephan sighed and pointed toward each child in turn.
"That's Simon, our second eldest. The menace grinning at you is Sean. The twins are Scott and Sara. And the tiny hurricane currently attempting to escape my grip is Serena."
"I AM NOT A HURRICANE!"
"You're certainly loud enough to be one," Simon replied.
Serena stuck out her tongue. Soma looked from face to face. Six. I have six older siblings. He studied the crowded nursery. My parents are either incredibly brave or catastrophically bad at planning.
"Look!" Sara exclaimed. "He's smiling!"
Soma immediately attempted to stop. Too late. Sean pointed triumphantly.
"See? He likes me!"
"He was looking at Serena," Scott argued.
"Obviously he likes Serena best," Serena announced.
Simon raised an eyebrow.
"He's five days old. He doesn't know what liking someone means."
I already know which one of you enjoys ruining everyone's fun. Then Serena finally wriggled free of Stephan's grasp. She hurried to the bassinet and placed both hands against its wooden railing.
"Hi, Bubba."
Her voice was much quieter this time. Soma turned toward her. She had Aria's lavender eyes, framed by unruly strands of pale-blue hair. Her expression was one of absolute wonder.
"I'm Serena," she whispered. "I'm your big sister."
For some reason, that declaration made him pause. She looked so small. And yet she was watching him with the fierce seriousness of someone accepting an enormous responsibility.
"I'll protect you," she promised.
Sean snorted.
"From what? Angry pillows?"
Serena spun toward him.
"FROM YOU!"
The room erupted in laughter. And Soma, despite himself, smiled again. Their parents arrived shortly afterward. Preston entered first, resplendent in a dark green robe embroidered with gold. His magnificent mustache had been groomed into two particularly unfortunate curves. Soma stared. Somehow, it's gotten worse. Aria followed, carrying a small silver tray of refreshments. Her expression softened immediately when she saw the children clustered around the bassinet.
"Well, look at my beautiful family."
"Mother!" Serena cried. "Soma smiled at me!"
"Did he?"
"TWICE!"
Aria laughed.
"Then he must love you very much."
Sean folded his arms.
"He smiled at me first."
"No, he didn't," Sara replied.
"How would you know?"
"Because I was watching."
"You watch everything."
"Someone has to."
Preston surveyed the room, beaming.
"Seven children. Seven extraordinary blessings."
Simon glanced toward the bassinet.
"Six extraordinary blessings and one new responsibility."
"Simon," Aria warned.
"What? I didn't say it was a bad responsibility."
Preston chuckled.
"That's the spirit, son."
He approached Soma and extended one enormous finger. Soma grasped it instinctively. Preston's expression changed. For a moment, all the imposing dignity of the Archduke disappeared.
"Look at that," he whispered.
Aria smiled.
"He likes holding your hand."
"Strong grip, too."
"Preston, he's a newborn."
"A talented newborn."
Please don't start making professional assessments of my grip strength. His father grinned down at him.
"That's my boy."
And there it was again. That strange warmth. Soma still couldn't fully explain why those simple words affected him so deeply. But they did. The following days introduced Soma to an entirely new form of exhaustion. Visitors. Endless visitors. Nobles arrived bearing embroidered blankets and elaborate toys. Household officials offered blessings. Family acquaintances appeared with expensive gifts that Soma couldn't use, appreciate, or even properly see.
He learned quickly that being the newborn son of an archduke attracted an absurd amount of attention. He also discovered that his family possessed a spectacular number of opinions about him. His maternal grandmother insisted he resembled Aria. His paternal grandfather declared he had Preston's eyes. One grandmother claimed he would become a renowned scholar. One grandfather insisted he would make an extraordinary commander.
I'm less than two weeks old, Soma thought. Could we perhaps finish learning to hold my own head up before assigning me a career?
The grandparents, thankfully, were affectionate. They took turns holding him, fussing over the temperature of his blankets, and telling stories about his parents that proved particularly entertaining. Apparently Preston had once attempted to impress Aria by climbing a balcony. Apparently the balcony had not survived. Apparently Aria had agreed to marry him anyway. Soma decided his mother possessed either extraordinary patience or questionable judgment.
Possibly both. Then came Uncle Zane. Zane arrived carrying a book. Not a blanket. Not an ornamental rattle. A book. Soma immediately approved. The man had Aria's pale coloring and pointed ears, though his hair was a deeper blue and tied loosely behind his head. His robes were covered in small embroidered symbols depicting unusual creatures, and several thick notebooks protruded from a leather satchel slung over his shoulder.
"Where's my favorite nephew?"
"You have several nephews," Aria replied.
"Yes, but this one's new."
Preston shook his head.
"That reasoning concerns me."
"Your mustache concerns me, yet we remain family."
Soma nearly choked. Finally. Someone said it. Zane leaned over the bassinet.
"Well, hello there, Soma."
He opened the book. Beautiful illustrations filled its pages. A massive bird with silver feathers. A scaled beast with four curved horns. A creature resembling a fox, except that its tail dissolved into wisps of blue fire. Soma stared. Now that's interesting. Zane noticed immediately.
"Oh?"
He turned another page. Soma's eyes followed.
"Aria," Zane said slowly, "I think your son likes the pictures."
Aria smiled.
"Most babies enjoy bright colors."
"Yes, yes, but look."
He moved the book slightly. Soma followed it with his eyes. Zane's smile widened.
"Interesting."
Oh, no. I know that expression. Zane turned to another illustration. Soma examined it. A long, serpentine creature coiled around an enormous tree, its scales shimmering with unfamiliar markings.
"What do you think, little scholar?" Zane asked softly.
Soma reached toward the page. His hand promptly missed by several inches. Infuriating. Zane laughed.
"Don't worry. You'll get there."
He closed the book and placed it beside the bassinet.
"For when you're a little older."
Soma stared at it. Finally, a practical gift. Uncle Zane had immediately risen several places in the family rankings. The greatest surprise came near the end of the second week. A royal visit. Soma knew something unusual was happening when Samantha and Melissa began preparing the nursery before sunrise. Fresh flowers appeared in silver vases. The curtains were changed. Every visible surface was polished until it gleamed. Even his blankets were replaced with an absurdly expensive embroidered set.
Either we're hosting royalty or someone has declared war on dust. He received his answer when a procession of guards passed beneath the nursery windows. Their polished armor bore the royal crest. A few minutes later, Preston entered with Aria. Behind them came a man and woman whose presence immediately changed the atmosphere of the room. The man wore a tailored midnight-blue coat embroidered with gold. His posture was relaxed, but the guards and servants around him moved with obvious respect.
The woman beside him carried herself with quiet elegance, her expression warm as she approached the bassinet. Soma studied them. Important people. He didn't need anyone to explain that. The way others stood aside told him enough.
"Your Majesties," Samantha said, bowing deeply.
Ah. Very important people. The king laughed.
"Preston, must every visit begin with a ceremony?"
"I'm merely maintaining standards, Your Majesty."
"You once fell into a fountain trying to impress your wife."
Preston's mustache twitched.
"That story has been exaggerated."
Aria smiled serenely.
"It really hasn't."
Soma decided he liked the king. The queen approached his bassinet.
"And this must be little Soma."
She leaned closer, smiling.
"Oh, Aria. He's beautiful."
"Thank you."
The queen carefully lifted him into her arms. Soma inspected her with as much dignity as a swaddled newborn could manage. She smelled faintly of roses and expensive perfume.
"Hello, sweetheart," she whispered.
He blinked. The king appeared beside them.
"Strong eyes."
Preston immediately brightened.
"Exactly what I said!"
"You also said he could grip a sword."
"Eventually."
The king chuckled.
"Perhaps allow him to master sitting upright first."
Finally. Reasonable leadership. The adults laughed. Then their conversation shifted toward the approaching royal council, trade arrangements, and the state of several countries within Arcaelis. Soma listened. He recognized very little. But one thing immediately caught his attention. Fifteen countries. One crown. The king spoke of distant ports, mountain settlements, industry, and trade routes as though their fates rested upon decisions made in the capital.
So this isn't merely an important household, Soma realized. It's close to the center of an entire kingdom. He watched Preston speaking with the king. Their familiarity was unmistakable. Not simply ruler and subordinate. Friends. Perhaps something closer. That was a relationship worth understanding. But before Soma could gather more information, the queen gently returned him to Aria. And his body betrayed him with an enormous yawn.
Unbelievable. Political intelligence gathering defeated by nap time. By the end of his first month, Soma had learned several important truths. His father possessed a terrible mustache and an enormous heart. His mother was gentle, perceptive, and considerably more formidable than her soft voice suggested. Stephan took his responsibilities seriously, even when the others mocked him for it. Simon noticed things and rarely volunteered what he was thinking.
Sean considered embarrassment a competitive sport. Scott and Sara seemed capable of arguing about absolutely anything while somehow remaining inseparable. And Serena had appointed herself his personal guardian. A position she took very seriously. Every morning, she visited the nursery. Sometimes she brought a flower. Sometimes a drawing. Sometimes a toy she'd stolen from Sean and insisted now belonged to Soma.
But on one particularly quiet afternoon, she arrived carrying a small, worn picture book.
"Story time, Bubba."
Soma stared. Now we're talking. She climbed into the cushioned chair beside Samantha, opened the book, and began reading. Her pronunciation wasn't perfect. She stumbled over unfamiliar words and occasionally skipped entire sentences. But she kept going. And when she reached a particularly difficult passage, Samantha gently helped her. Soma listened to every word. Not merely because he wanted to understand the language. But because Serena was trying so hard to share something with him.
When she finished, she leaned over the bassinet.
"Did you like it?"
Soma reached toward her. His tiny fingers caught one of hers. Serena's eyes widened.
"SAMANTHA! HE LIKED IT!"
Samantha smiled.
"I believe he did, my lady."
Serena laughed and leaned forward to kiss his forehead.
"Don't worry, Bubba. I'll teach you everything."
Soma looked at her. And for once, he didn't have a clever thought. He simply held her finger. That evening, Samantha was preparing his blankets when something caught Soma's attention. A servant entered the nursery carrying a tray. The young woman stumbled slightly on the edge of the rug. Before the tray had even begun to fall, Samantha moved. One hand steadied the servant. The other caught the sliding glass before it could strike the floor.
The entire motion happened so quickly that Soma almost missed it.
"Careful, Melissa," Samantha said gently.
Melissa exhaled.
"Thank you. I swear that rug is trying to kill me."
Samantha laughed.
"Perhaps it has a personal grudge."
The two women resumed their work. Soma watched Samantha carefully. Interesting. He'd seen trained guards move with that kind of economy. Every gesture controlled. No wasted effort. Yet Samantha appeared entirely ordinary again, carefully folding blankets and humming beneath her breath. Perhaps he'd imagined it. Perhaps she'd simply been lucky. Either way, Soma filed the observation away. Not every mystery needed solving immediately. For now, there were more important things to consider.
Like figuring out how to roll onto his stomach without assistance. A task that was proving humiliatingly difficult. Late that night, Aria entered the nursery alone. Samantha bowed and quietly withdrew, leaving mother and son beneath the gentle glow of the floating lights. Aria lifted Soma from his bassinet and settled into the cushioned chair beside the window. For a while, she simply held him. The distant sounds of the manor faded as the household prepared for sleep.
"Your brothers and sisters adore you," she murmured.
Soma looked up at her.
"Though I suspect Serena may become a little too protective."
Aria chuckled.
"She already threatened Sean because he made you sneeze."
To be fair, he did put a feather under my nose. His mother gently stroked his hair.
"I hope you'll grow close to all of them."
Her expression softened.
"You have so many people who love you already, little Soma."
The words settled over him. So many people. Only a few weeks ago, he hadn't known any of their faces. Now he recognized their footsteps, their voices, the familiar sounds of their laughter. He knew when Preston was approaching because the man seemed incapable of walking quietly. He knew when Serena arrived because she announced herself from halfway down the corridor. He knew Samantha's gentle humming and Aria's soft voice. The manor was enormous. The world beyond its walls was even larger.
There were countless things Soma didn't understand. His new body. His incomplete memories. The strange technology that coexisted with magic. The gods whose names appeared in everyday blessings. And the mysterious implant beneath his skin. But tonight, as Aria held him close, those questions could wait. She kissed his forehead.
"Sleep well, my little scholar."
Soma closed his eyes. Little scholar, huh?
He considered the title. It certainly had potential. And tomorrow, perhaps, he would finally manage to roll over without humiliating himself. A worthy ambition. For now, he settled against his mother's warmth and allowed sleep to claim him. He had been given a new name, a new home, and an entire family. Well, technically, the name was the same. The universe really could have put a little more effort into that. But everything else?
Everything else was beginning to feel like a gift.