“His civilization seems to be doing well,” I murmured. “His approval rating is high.”

“The isolationist policy never works long term. One must interact with other cultures to progress, otherwise, they will surpass you. As a man of his lineage, he knows this. He had two chances to invade on favorable terms, and he deliberately ignored both.”

A man of his lineage, huh? I leaned closer to her. “When did you know?”

Caldenia shrugged. “Immediately. It’s blindingly obvious. Their attempt at secrecy was earnest and would’ve worked, except that I have eyes and a brain.”

A warning chime sounded through the arena. Fifteen minutes left.

My earpiece came to life with Sean’s voice. “Kosandion says that no matter what happens next, we should let it play out.”

What did that mean? Nothing good, that’s what that meant. “Remind him that we are responsible for the safety of our guests.”

“I did. He says he takes full responsibility. He has cleared it with the Innkeeper Assembly.”

And when, exactly, had he had a chance to do that? “It doesn’t matter what he cleared. This is our inn.”

“It’s a matter of the Dominion security and his safety.”

“And you’re going along with this?”

“If something happens to him, we lose the inn. I will secure him. Whatever happens between the candidates is fair game.”

I would have liked to argue, but I had let Kosandion fight Surkar with a knife despite all of my better judgement.

Caldenia leaned toward me, her voice discreet. “What’s happening?”

“Your nephew is anticipating something, and he doesn’t want us to interfere.”

“About time,” Caldenia said. “I was beginning to worry we’d miss the show.”

A loud bell tolled through the arena. The game was over. The five candidates stepped away from the table and retreated to use the various facilities. Oond’s humanoid helper stood up, bowed to him, and exited the stage. Oond rolled his high-tech fishbowl to the section of his delegation, where he was greeted by an enthusiastic fin display.

“You’re looking a bit pale for a human,” Karat said. “Here, eat some cookies. It’s about to get exciting.”

“No, thank you.”

I didn’t want cookies. I wanted peace and quiet and the orderly elimination of three additional candidates without any show or excitement.

“The scores have been tallied,” Gaston announced, his microphone-amplified voice carrying through the stands. “Candidates, please take your places.”