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.

“Let us remind those who are watching of every being’s origin and allegiance,” the Sovereign declared. “We shall begin our introductions in a random order chosen by our host.”

That was my cue. I tapped my broom. Sections of the floor under the delegations lit up, the pale glow bouncing from group to group until it stopped under the Gaheas. It wasn’t really random, but nobody needed to know that.