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make sure she had as
    balanced a life as any child seer could.
    "You were with a man, and you were happy."
    "What?" Tor tried to focus. You'd think he'd learn
    never to get distracted when talking to a six-year old. She
    bounced around subjects like a hyperactive rabbit.
    "I saw you last night in my vision." Her voice
    sounded low and dreamy. "He's so handsome, and he
    looked at you just like Larien used to."
    Alexandra had also suffered when Larien died.
    She'd only known him by brief visits and holographic calls,
    but the pair had bonded. Tor thought she was mostly upset
    that she'd had no vision of his lover's death. Larien had died
    when the spaceship he was traveling in came out of warp
    and hit an unexpected meteor. He'd been going to visit his
    parents for his monthly visit. Two years later, Tor still got
    presents from Larien's parents on his birthday, and he sent
    them flowers on the anniversary of his lover's death.
    "What did he look like?"
    "He had dark-hair and pretty blue eyes. He was
    quite handsome but not as handsome as you, Daddy," she
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    said in a burst of loyalty. "There was the shadow of a
    dragon around him. I think he can shift."
    Tor shook his head. "If it's who I think you're
    talking about, I heard he couldn't shift."
    "Maybe he just needs the right reason," Alexandra
    said.
    "Maybe. Now were there any other visions we need
    to discuss?"
    "Nope. Let's talk about my new pony."
    For the next few minutes Alexandra and her father
    discussed her studies, which were light in deference to her
    age. They idly chatted about her time at the seer house and
    how pretty the flowers were in the garden and, of course,
    her new pony.
    A bell chimed, stopping the little girl midway
    through her sentence about a blue butterfly she'd seen that
    morning. Because of the difficulty of timing intergalactic
    transmissions and the extravagant cost, each child only got
    fifteen minutes.
    His younger son, Mitel, got on the phone next.
    "Hi, Papa."
    "Good evening, Mitel." At the age of eight, Mitel
    was a serious child who worked hard at his studies and
    pleasing his father.
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    "I mastered my first level of levitation," Mitel burst
    out.
    "Congratulations, son."
    Tor felt a warming burst of pride. Mitel had the
    ability to move things with his mind. He'd been trying to
    move himself, with little success, since he'd learned to
    walk. That he'd reached first level was a huge achievement.
    "How are your other studies going?"
    "Fine. The tutor you sent is amazing. I think he
    likes mother," Mitel confided.
    "Ahh." Tor wasn't surprised. The tutor, according to
    Sally, was gorgeous. The more he thought of settling down,
    the more he decided he needed to find someone for his
    children's mother.
    "Is she seeing anyone now?"
    "She saw some guy named Lord Jessum for a few
    weeks, but when he told Alexandra she was just imagining
    her visions, mother sent him away."
    "Good."
    The pair discussed Mitel's fencing lessons and his
    studies, then he exchanged places with his brother, Cadin.
    "Good evening, Father," Cadin said cheerfully.
    Where Mitel was serious and studious, Cadin was all jokes
    and fun. The problem with Cadin was that it was hard for
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    him to settle down. His talent was to manipulate fire, and
    with that much energy burning through him it was difficult
    for him to sit down for his studies. Tor had instructed their
    new tutor to give Cadin most of his lessons orally, outside,
    so he could walk and burn off some of his excess energy. It
    was just short of torture to put his extremely active son at a
    classroom table for hours on end.
    "So who's the new guy?" Cadin asked abruptly.
    "What new guy?" Sometimes he felt he'd missed a
    completely separate conversation than the one he was
    having.
    "The one Alexandra saw in her visions."
    "I think it's King Naron," Tor said. "But I can't be
    sure. Your great uncle signed me up for a consort contest.
    If I win,