The Murder Beaks were next. Their candidate was a remarkably handsome stocky man with lemon yellow skin and brilliant green eyes. His wavy brown hair was sideswept in an artful curve. His name was Pivor. He smiled a lot, delivered his speech about cooperation between species and harmony, and returned to his place, obviously pleased with a job well done.

Humanoid skin came in many different variations, but there was usually a limit to how brightness of its pigment. Pivor stood out like a dandelion on a green lawn. It had to be the result of a dye, although why he would dye himself was anyone’s guess.

The Frowns Dominion delegation presented an unusual candidate. She was tall and muscled like a gymnast, and she moved with a natural grace. Her skin was the deepest indigo verging on cosmos-black, her eyes were the color of coal, and her glossy dark hair, braided into a complex arrangement, rode on her head like a crown. An Uma, same as Kosandion’s mother.

Seeing an Uma outside their world was extremely rare.

The Uma had been discovered a thousand years ago by Earth’s time by one of the slimier galactic nations. The newcomers arrived bearing gifts and sweet promises, and it took almost twenty years before the Uma realized they were not being helped, they were being colonized. The invaders severely underestimated the Uma spirit. In less than a century, the Uma purged them from their planet and shut their doors to most galactic visitors. The lucky few who had been invited told a story of a beautiful world populated by fierce people.

The candidate, whose name was Ellenda, glared at the gathering. Her speech hit the talking points, but her tone seemed almost defiant. She mentioned progress and harmony and strode back to Team Frown with her head held high.

It was the oombole turn now. Their candidate, a fish that looked like someone had painted it with fire, treated us to a frenzied display of jazz fins, and their translation software was clearly having issues.

“… raised the offspring to seek safety and to swim in a way that doesn’t shower those behind them in body fluids.”

Right. Don’t pee on your fellow citizens.

“Thank you, candidate Oond for this refreshing definition of harmony,” Kosandion said. “I believe we have only one candidate left.”

Lady Wexyn glided into the open and smiled. There was something so infectious about that smile. It made you want to smile back.

She leaned forward slightly, making the delicate birds on the golden branches of her headpiece tilt. “Do I say it now, Your Majesty?”

“Yes,” Kosandion said.

Resven clenched his hands together, probably to keep from slapping one of them over his own face.

“I am Lady Wexyn of the Temple of Desire!” she announced.

We waited. Seconds ticked by.

“Lady Wexyn, would you like to tell us how you would raise our child?” Kosandion prompted.