Politician by Piers Anthony

can not truly return their love. But he—his talent perhaps makes him inherently cynical, emotionally, on the deep level. On the surface he is ready to love, but below he knows better, so he can not. Except for his first love, Helse. She initiated him into manhood, and there was no cynicism there. But having given his love to her, he could not then give it elsewhere—with one exception.
    “He was with Helse when he saw your picture, which so resembled her. She saw it, too, and your Uncle Mason helped them both; helped our whole bubble to survive when he really didn't have to. Mason was a generous man, and we owe our lives to him and will never forget the debt we owe him. He is dead now, so we can never repay him directly. But you are his kin. He loved you as his niece, and he helped Helse, perhaps because she seemed to resemble you. In Hope's emotion there is a connection, and I cannot say it is a wrong one. His happiest time with Helse was also with your uncle. So the cynicism of his talent does not apply; it is preempted by the love he bears, which has no other place to go. You are the symbol of his onetime happiness; he believes, emotionally, that he can recreate his love of Helse only through you.”
    Megan dabbed at her forehead with a dainty handkerchief, as if becoming faint from overexertion. “But he doesn't even know me.”
    “He doesn't need to,” Spirit said. “This has nothing to do with knowledge. It has to do with faith.”
    Faith... Coincidentally, the name of our older sister, lost among pirates. The most beautiful member of our family.
    Megan shook her head. “You were right. I don't understand.”
    “I think you do,” Spirit said.
    For answer Megan quoted from a poem by Edgar Allan Poe:
    I was a child and she was a child,
    In this kingdom by the sea:
    But we loved with a love that was more than love—
    I and my Annabel Lee
    That time at the scientific station on Io—a kingdom by the sea. Helse and I, children, with love that was more than love. How aptly it fitted! Megan did understand, and I had to have her.
    “It is also true that I need your expertise in politics,” I said. “So there is a practical foundation. Marry me and it will make sense.”
    Megan dabbed again. “Captain, this is not the way!” she protested. “This is not your Navy! This is civilian life! You have to consider the needs and feelings of others. You can't just toss aside wives as they become inconvenient.”
    “Here marriage is permanent,” I agreed.
    “And not entered into capriciously.”
    “This is not caprice,” I said. “You are the perfect diamond I have finally found. The last fifteen years of my life have developed toward this union.”
    “Well, the last fifteen years of my life have not,” she said with some asperity. She was a trifle angry now, and this, too, became her.
    I understood her increasingly well, but understanding is not always the same as management. Megan was no creature of casual influence. I was at a loss about how to approach her.
    So I turned it over to Spirit again. “Convince her,” I told my sister.
    Spirit smiled as if she had expected this, which was true. She focused on Megan and took a breath.
    “Surely you—his sister—are not going to play John Alden in his presence!” Megan exclaimed indignantly.
    I had to reach far back into the recesses of my memory to place that reference. Megan's literary background, so readily applicable, was another delight. John Alden was the name of a man who was required to plead for the favor of a young woman, in the name of another man who lacked the social courage to propose to her himself. Unfortunately John Alden was enamored of the woman himself, as she understood. She at length interrupted him with the inquiry, “Why don't you speak for yourself, John?” I hesitate to conjecture the implications of that reference in this present situation.
    At any rate Spirit took it in stride. “Megan—may I call you that?—I must argue that