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Next to me Kosandion leaned his elbow on the armrest of his throne, rested his chin on his hand, and tried very hard to appear disinterested. At the Observer Gallery, Gaston was blinking rapidly. Tony leaned in a little to watch as she passed, and Sean was staring intently at her back. Hehe.

“Sean, pick your jaw up off the floor,” I murmured with a small smile.

“She moves very well.”

“I noticed.”

“No, not like that. That thing on her head is real gold. Scan it.”

I nudged the inn. Lady Wexyn was carrying fifty-two pounds on her head and thirty-five on her body. And she moved like a weightless butterfly. She reached her delegation with a dazzling smile, and they swarmed her in apparent joy. Someone clapped their hands. Someone squeed in a high-pitched voice.

Kosandion gave them another twenty seconds to settle down and turned to Bestata. “Please continue.”

She glared at Lady Wexyn and ground out. “Harmony. In battle.”

Kosandion nodded, and the vampire knight turned and stomped back to her House.

I moved the light around.

At the Observer Gallery. Caldenia sat very still, watching Lady Wexyn with an almost predatory focus, like an eagle sighting her prey. Karat pretended to look bored. Next to her, Cookie was smiling.

I stopped the white spot under the otrokars. Their candidate strode into the open. He truly was a stunning example of good genes and focused physical training. Perfect, hard muscle corded his large frame. His broad shoulders strained his chitin battle armor.

“I am Surkar, son of Grast and Ulde, Champion of my tribe, Gutripper, Blood Drencher…”

The vampires were rolling their eyes. Dagorkun was too. Clearly, following the directions or reading the room wasn’t in Surkar’s skill set.

“…Bone Crusher. I am not meek. When I am chosen, I will mold our child into a war machine. They will reap a bloody harvest of their enemies, until all who oppose them cower and tremble, too afraid to cry out.”

“Splendid,” Kosandion said with a completely straight face. “Thank you, Son of Grast and Ulde. Let us continue.”

I flicked the light around to the first Dominion delegation. We still had six groups to go.

The Higgra didn’t bother with a human, like the Donkamins and oomboles. Their candidate was 3 feet tall at the shoulder, stood on four legs, and was covered with brilliant white fur splattered with flecks of gold and gray. She had an unmistakably feline face with big golden eyes, and fluffy paws hid dexterous fingers and razor-sharp claws. Her gums and tongue were a vivid Prussian blue, her name meant ‘cyanide,’ and as usual, the Higgra insisted on the literal translations of their names. Cyanide promised to teach her children to observe the world and make sound judgements. In complete harmony, of course.

The Donkamins were next, and I’d confirmed my suspicions. The Donkamins didn’t only freak out the Earth-born humans. They freaked out everyone. When their candidate strode into the open to deliver their message of scientific exploration and harmony, every humanoid in the room made valiant efforts to look elsewhere.

One of the Dominion’s delegations was next. I’d started calling them Team Smiles and Team Frowns based on their expressions, and this one was the Smile one. Their candidate was an enthusiastic young woman, a typical Dominion citizen - taupe skin, big gray eyes, and soft, dark-gray hair, which she had styled in an asymmetric wave. From her looks alone, she could’ve been Resven’s niece, and she gazed upon Kosandion with worshipful adoration. She mentioned unity and harmony twice in four sentences.

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.

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