Waiting had never been Kushiel’s forte. When he was waiting on anyone, one minute seemed like ten and ten seemed more like an hour. So, by the time he saw Gallows, Kushiel was lounging against a tree like his feet hurt. He had passed the (extremely short) time by groaning loudly and making exasperated faces. All the other horses in the Meadow had given him a wide, wide breath. He was free to grouse and pout without fear of interruption. 

When he did see his mother he jumped to his feet, momentarily forgetting he was dreading this interview.

“Finally!” He crowed, though it had been a remarkably short time. Still, he said it with a smile and greeted her with an affectionate head but. She nuzzled his sour spot and Kushiel pulled it away, cringing though he barely felt it at all. Men unused to physical pain were worse than the smallest, silliest of girls. Kushiel made an art of milking small injuries for all they were worth. Still, he recovered quickly enough at the sound of praise. He grinned roguishly at Gallows.

“What can I say, Ma? When you’ve got it, flaunt it.” By “it” he meant his fantastic skills. It never crossed his mind that his skills were, in fact, inborn, and he had done nothing to improve them. The fact that he was fantastic despite zero effort on his part simply proved his superiority. Hard work and disciple would ruin that. He was was so busy admiring himself that when Gallows spoke again he didn’t say anything for a long moment. His dopey smile disappeared to one of astonishment.

“Wha, wha, what?” He stuttered stupidly. Did she say sister?! Kushiel’s mind went blank with panic. Then flooded with images of a little girl version of himself. Some impish little devil torturing the Valley. A little spritely girl whining about how her mom always knew what she planning. Kushiel’s jaw snapped shut and his stunned expression turned into a beaming grin.

“That’s, that’s, FANTASTIC!" He nearly shouted the words, hopping a little on his four feet. His flame mane burned a little higher. He was going to have a sister, and she was going to just like him. Kushiel’s one regret in being a man was that all the other men got such a raw deal. There was no one of his caliber to lavish attention upon them, nobody with his flair for the dramatic.

Now all that would change.

He grinned down at his mom.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, the idea of you…you know…is incredibly traumatizing, but hey! For a little sister I’ll deal with it.” It was perhaps the first time he ever willing “dealt with” anything. The idea of his mom making that sister was one he would need to lock far, far back in his mind. He was just fine with assuming there really was a huge stork that brought babies to the craziest women, thus ensuring no child would grow up to be normal, and therefore criminally dull.

Her next words did cause him to pause for a minute. He had never even entertained the idea that a sister could threaten his place as the apple of his mother’s eye. He would need to give that some serious thought. He always assumed that would be completely impossible. Unless the goddess of love and beauty herself came out of that womb he was almost certain to have anyone beat. But still…competition was not something Kushiel accepted readily. He squinted down at her. A second later he shook his head sheepishly. What was he thinking? Nobody could threaten his place as first, and best son. He chucked his mother under her chin.

“On this one thing we are in agreement. No sister of mine is going to set foot in the Chamber until all those horny bastards are dead.” His thoughts immediately went to Gryffen and he shuttered violently. Oh hell no. He’d have to find a muzzle for that dog before little lady Kushiel was born.