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.
A graceful Gaheas glided forward into the open space between the two rows of participants. He wasn’t lean, he was lithe, with long limbs, perfect amber skin, and a face that was androgynous in its delicate beauty. He wore a stylized scale mail, a deep burgundy accented with white, more of a ceremonial garment than battle-ready armor.
“My name is Nycati of Gaheas. Should I be chosen, I shall teach our offspring the beauty of the arts so their soul can reach harmony with the universe.”
I bounced the light again and stopped it under the Kai. Prysen Ol moved forward. A full foot shorter than Nycati, he wore a pale blue robe with wide sleeves. It was cinched at his waist with a sash. His long blue hair streamed down his back. The Gaheas was a tough act to follow, but Prysen Ol held himself with quiet, calm dignity.
“My name is Prysen Ol. I represent the Kai. Should I be chosen, I shall love our child and share with them the teachings of ancient masters, the logicians and philosophers, so our offspring will seek understanding and harmony in all things.”
Clearly, harmony was the theme. They must’ve been given talking points.
I moved the light around and let it pause under the Dushegubs. Their candidate hopped off the root on which she had been perching and strolled into the open, rolling her hips. Her dress, a slight flowing gown, seemed to be held up purely by the fullness of her breasts.
The Dushegubs, subtle like bulldozers. Humanoids like sex. Here’s sex, now give us everything we want.
The woman tossed her hair back. The Dushegubs’ roots stopped undulating. The killer trees held completely still, waiting to see if the prey took the pretty bait.
“I am Unessa of… Creeeeeak hisss hisss creeeeak knock.”
And that’s why we called them Dushegubs.
“Should I be chosen, I shall commit fully to ensuring our children will be conceived in love and care…”
Aha, and?
“… and I shall raise them to smother their enemies before they have a chance to root.”
There it is.
“And harmony,” Unessa concluded triumphantly.
“A harmonious smothering,” Kosandion murmured under his breath. “Of course.”
I tossed the light again. Let’s see… It had to be the Horde or the Anocracy. If I waited too long, they would get offended.
My magic let me know there was movement in the Temple’s quarters. I opened their doors and stopped the light under House Meer.
Lady Wexyn exited her quarters and was moving toward us at top speed. Sean glanced at me. His voice whispered in my ear through a tiny earbud.
“Do you want me to bar the door?”
“Nope.”
Sean grinned.
The vampire candidate rearranged her face into a milder version of a sneer. “I am Bestata of House Meer.”
Everyone was sticking to the brief and keeping the introductions simple. Normally she would’ve rattled off a list of titles and battle honors that was a mile long.
“Should I be chosen, I will raise our child in the finest tradition of my House. I shall make our child strong, powerful, decisive, skilled in the battle arts—"
The doors burst open, and Lady Wexyn appeared in the huge doorway. She was five foot nothing, and all of her was wrapped in a shiny golden gown and decorated with jewelry, as if someone had taken a 5-gallon bucket of precious accessories, tossed it at her, and most of it had stuck.
She wasn’t simply curvy, she was voluptuous, with large full breasts, a round firm butt, and a soft tummy. Her naturally pale skin was sun kissed to a glowing tan. Her dark brown hair rode on top of her head in an elaborate ponytail that dripped curled locks onto her shoulders. A massive headdress crowned the front of her head, with the ponytail strategically threaded through it. It looked like a tree made of pure gold, complete with branches dripping with ruby flowers and supporting tiny, bejeweled birds. The whole thing added three feet to her height.
She opened her big dark eyes as wide as they could go and declared in a loud voice, “Your Majesty!!!”
Resven turned green.
Kosandion didn’t miss a beat. “Lady Wexyn, what a pleasure to have you with us.”
“You didn’t wait for me, Your Majesty. Am I late?” She clasped one hand to her ample bosom. A dozen thin bracelets in every precious metal found in the galaxy clinked on her wrist.
“Only a little. Please join us.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty!”
She swept into the room, somehow keeping the golden oak upright on her head. Unessa’s hip roll was amateur hour. This was a master class. It was hypnotic. There was no way I could ever imitate that sashay. Not only did I not have the hips or joints for it, I didn’t have the confidence.
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.