Jora’h had laughed at that, kissing her again. “Nira, even I can see that not all humans are the same. Especially not you.”

Now, alone, she touched the smooth skin of her flat abdomen. Nothing showed yet, of course, but as she closed her eyes Nira tried to imagine the baby growing inside her, an individual life form. Partly hers, partly Jora’h’s. She wondered how soon she would be able to sense its stirring presence.

“What will you be like? A son or a daughter?” she whispered aloud, thinking of the mixed genetics of a telepathic green priest and the Mage-Imperator’s son. The possibilities seemed limitless, and she smiled, impressed at the potential this child held.

When he became Mage-Imperator, Jora’h would have full access to thism, a telepathy completely different from Nira’s own connection with the worldforest. Through the thism, a Mage-Imperator sat at the top of a diffuse mind, sensing all of the subjects in his empire. When that happened, Nira would lose her lover entirely. Jora’h would become something else, something that was both more and less than what he was now.

“Are you eager for that day?” Nira had asked him.

“That day will come regardless of my enthusiasm or trepidation. I am the Prime Designate. My destiny is to be the next Mage-Imperator. The thism will be my canvas, on which I can continue the masterpiece of the Ildiran Empire. I will know everything, and the people will treat me like a god.” He kissed her. “I don’t have a choice in the matter.”

Nira had felt afraid as she held the Prime Designate naked against her, feeling his warm skin, the topography of his muscles, the pleasantly hot stirring of his breath against her face. His tiny golden chains of hair crackled like living static. “But before that can happen, Jora’h, you must… they will have to—”

He brushed his fingertips over her lips. “No man would ever look forward to ritual castration, but I have been prepared for that since I was a child. For now, my duty is to spread my bloodline among the various Ildiran kiths. Later, my duty will be to manage the web of thism so that I can be the heart and mind of the Ildiran race.” He stroked her smooth shoulders. “But that will not occur for half a century or more. Don’t worry about it, Nira. Does not the transience itself make our love sweeter?”

How could she disagree?