Family Jewel

Year 24: The two brothers made the usual journey every five years to visit the mother country and stay with Uncle Fitzroy, a viscount. Uncle Fitzroy was actually their fourth cousin through a great-great-grandaunt who remarried into the main family. The two enjoyed seeing him, but his son Thomas was always an annoying brat. They could never find a more polite term for him. When the formal introductions were out of the way, Michael announced his two illegitimate daughters and, as he expected, was summoned by Uncle Fitzroy.

Michael steeled himself for the upcoming discussion and knocked at his superior's study door. When Uncle Fitzroy answered, he warmly greeted him and was ushered to a comfortable chair and given a cigar and a snifter of brandy. Michael placed the cigar aside and rolled the snifter in his hands. “You wished to speak with me, Uncle Fitzroy?”

Fitzroy, who was thirteen years Michael's senior, smiled tolerantly. “Straight to business, eh? Just as American as your father. Business before ceremony or pleasure. Deplorable.”

Michael managed a smile in return. “And the profits for family and Crown, are they just as deplorable, Uncle? Our line was bred for business and my blood runs as black as it does blue.”

“If that's the way you are then, it's time to consider marriage, especially Morgan.”

Michael swallowed the contents of his snifter as he let the gravity of the situation roll over him. “First, let's discuss Morgan. Father left him the title, but I... the line will not continue through him, as desperately as we may hope otherwise.”

“Michael, I don't see the problem. He only need perform enough to produce one son.”

Michael sighed. He half-turned to face his cousin directly. “Morgan can't perform. Therein lies the problem. Any wife he takes, I'd have to bed to see her bear issue.”

“Is your brother incompetent or impotent? Or is it something else?”

Michael shook his head with quiet exasperation. “No, it's...”

Fitzroy stared at Michael while Michael pulled together the next sentence. Michael spoke slowly, punctuating each word, “He has no interest in sex.”

“Really? Are you sure he's not afraid of us judging him?”

“Of course, he's afraid of that. I am, too. But, it doesn't change the truth, he has no sex drive. He's asexual.”

“Is this a can't or a won't situation?”

“Can't,” Michael stressed. “The requisite parts never developed. Can't.”

Fitzroy looked astonished. “Never developed?!”

“No, they look the same as when he was ten.”

“How would you know?”

Michael stared at his relative. “I still help take care of him bodily. That includes changing his diaper when he has one on. It gives me a far better gist of his condition than to just hoping his doctors, nurses, and retainers tell me everything.”

Fitzroy looked unsure of whether to laugh or be horrified, but, in actuality, he was impressed. “He wears adult nappies?”

“Yes, because he still wets his bed. The doctors think this is yet another psychosomatic symptom of an overbearing mother. He doesn't feel in control of his life, so he doesn't develop basic adult mannerisms or bodily functions.”

“Are you referring to his bedwetting or his sexual impotence?”

“Not impot-... both.” Michael pressed a palm to his forehead. “He's already been committed once to a state institution and they declared him insane. Mother actually went to visit him there and gloat. He still hasn't recovered from that period.”

“This hardly seems befitting a baron.”

“Befitting? Have you noticed some of the kings of Europe? Let him keep the title, I'll handle the responsibilities.”

“And your brother?”

Michael vigorously nodded. “Yes, and my brother.”

“Are you sure it isn't just the love that dare not...”

“Quite sure. He seems utterly innocent of any sexual desire.”

“Unfortunate, then. He should probably marry, anyway.”

“But, I think it more immediate that I produce a legitimate son. And, unlike my father, I will vet my choices through you. My wife needs to be intelligent, broadminded, and charismatic.”

Fitzroy beamed. “I hope my son turns out like you. You run a multinational company. You run a barony. You're a wonderful father and a dutiful brother. May the genes of the family Wallace distill on this branch as well as they have in you.”