Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 130991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
Kosandion reached Caldenia. You could hear a pin drop.
“My dear aunt,” the Sovereign intoned, his voice a clear baritone that carried though the entire room unaided. “I haven’t seen you since you murdered my father. It’s been too long.”
Caldenia’s face snapped into a mask. “Greetings, dear nephew. You look well. The throne agrees with you.”
Kosandion nodded and ascended the twelve steps to his throne. Resven assumed his position by the throne and Miralitt parked herself to the right of the staircase.
Gaston gently steered Caldenia to her seat.
The Sovereign sat upon his throne. The glowing symbols of the Dominion above him pulsed with golden light and settled back into their light blue.
“I trust everyone has rested,” Kosandion said, his tone announcing that he didn’t require an answer. “Good. Let us begin.”
11
Kosandion, the Sovereign of the Seven Star Dominion, arrived at the inn to begin the selection of his future spouse. He is assisted by Resven, his chancellor, and Miralitt, the head of his security. 12 spousal candidates made it through to this final selection. Now they have to introduce themselves to remind everyone who they are and what they stand for.
Kosandion was an excellent orator. His diction was perfect, his voice modulated to carry through the space without sounding harsh but conveying just the right amount of gravitas to underscore the importance of every word.
“We all know why we are here, but I shall reiterate for the record.”
For Earth politicians, popularity was a major factor, but it wasn’t everything. Plenty of people took office based on the strength of their personality or tough stance on a particular issue. Some of the politicians were nearly universally disliked but continued to be reelected for complex reasons. For the Dominion, a ruler’s likability was vital. Kosandion knew that fact better than anyone. He had beckoned me over once he took the throne, and I stood only a couple of feet away. From this distance, the force of his magnetic personality was almost too much.
“We have gathered in this hall today to select my future spouse. After a long and careful consideration, twelve candidates have made the final cut. The parent of my future offspring is among you.”
In the attendant gallery, the Holy Ecclesiarch was nodding sagely. Elderly, with skin the color of old parchment and an elaborate headdress on his bald head, the spiritual leader of the Dominion seemed too slight for his luxurious vestments. He wore a silky white robe with an overdress embroidered with metallic brass-colored thread. A short, carefully draped cape covered his shoulders, reaching to mid chest, its deep neckline revealing a tall asymmetric collar. A rectangular jeweled medallion hung from his neck, indicating his holy status.
He looked ready to keel over, and I was watching him for any sign of fainting. He was led in by his acolytes shortly after Kosandion’s arrival, and it had taken him a long time to cross the ballroom to the throne. At some point Kosandion became concerned and went down the stairs to escort him. I had suggested that we make the Ecclesiarch more comfortable in custom quarters from where he could watch the proceedings, but he had patted my hand and told me that this was the last duty he could do for the Sovereign, and he had never been one to abandon his responsibilities.
“Bringing a child into this universe is a grave and sacred task. A parent’s obligation is far deeper than a simple contribution of genetic material. One must guide, educate, and love one’s offspring, putting their needs above one’s own. That is why the candidate who will become my spouse will be required to reside within the Dominion for a period of no less than twenty-five Dominion years. In recognition of this significant commitment, the Dominion will honor one request from the spouse or their sponsors.”
And that was the deal in a nutshell. Prior to entering the spouse selection, each delegation was required to list a minor and a major ask. If they made it to the finale, the Dominion would honor their minor asks, but only one delegation would ever be granted their major request. It was the grand prize. The whole process provided the Dominion with an opportunity to negotiate some deals they wouldn’t have been able to make otherwise. Some delegations made it to the finale for purely political reasons that had nothing to do with the qualities of their candidate.
A movement in the far end of the room drew my eye. The Dushegubs were getting a bit more agitated. Sean was openly watching them. Both he and Gorvar stared at the dark forest with identical expressions, like they wanted something to bite.
Looking around the room, it was clear which candidates thought they had a chance of winning. Most of the humanoids had taken care to match the Dominion’s aesthetic: structured garments in tasteful shades, a lot of white, a lot of delicate embroidery. The otrokars were the exception, and the vampire candidate was in her syn-armor, but she had taken the time to add a cream cloak and to decorate her hair with big white flowers.