Sweep of the Heart (Innkeeper Chronicles #5)(40)

Kosandion smiled. “Splendid. We should just marry those two to each other in a glorious spectacle of a wedding. Nearly every soul in the Dominion would be thrilled.”

Resven sighed. “Letero, I implore you to take this seriously.”

“I do. Think of the joy it would bring my people. Not to mention the ratings bonanza.”

Orata’s dark eyes sparkled.

“No,” Resven told her.

“You’re no fun,” Orata murmured.

“We are not here for fun,” Resven said. “We’re here to choose the parent of an heir and the spouse of the Sovereign. This person will have an impact on our society for decades to come. Please concentrate on the task at hand.”

Orata gave him a pointed look. “In third place, Lady Wexyn.” She had punctuated Lady Wexyn to make sure it sank in.

Resven jerked, startled. “How? Why?”

“The people find her endearing. She’s unpredictable and fun to watch. Those are direct quotes.”

“That woman is chaos personified. ‘Your Majesty’? Your Majesty! How many times have I gone over the proper forms of address? Letero Kolivion or Your Supremacy. How hard is it to remember?”

“I’m sure she does it just to spite you,” Miralitt said.

“She doesn’t have the presence of mind. Have you looked into her eyes? They are as clear as the summer sky. Not a cloud of thought in sight.”

“The people think she is ‘cute,’ ‘funny,’ and ‘breath of fresh air,’” Orata announced.

“ ‘Breath of fresh air’? She’s a fart at a funeral.” Resven realized what came out of his mouth and caught himself. “My apologies.”

Kosandion waved them on.

“In fourth place, the otrokar,” Orata said.

“Surkar, son of Grast and Ulde,” Kosandion said.

“Yes,” Orata confirmed.

Miralitt frowned.

“Key words?” Kosandion asked.

“Strong, decisive, and powerful.”

“Well, he is all of those things,” Kosandion agreed.

“His support among people 30 and under is 46% percent,” Orata continued. “62% of people 20 and under are interested in civil and military service.”

Resven raised his eyebrows.

Kosandion smiled again. “They see me as soft.”

Orata cleared her throat. “Yes, Letero. The dominant chatter in the forums is that you are too civilized, and that the Dominion would benefit from ‘warrior blood.’ The Conqueror faction is making their usual noises about getting back to our roots.”

“Have they forgotten the Assassination War?” Resven growled.

The Assassination War was a bloody conflict that was sparked by Caldenia’s murdering her brother. I was sixteen, in my junior year of high school. By Earth’s biological metrics, Kosandion was only about five years older than me. He would’ve been around twenty-one. While physically an adult, socially he would’ve been considered a “youth,” an equivalent to a human fifteen-year-old. Many factions in the Dominion thought he was unfit to lead. He proved them wrong.

“Most of the younger hotheads were children when that war took place,” Miralitt said. “Our people know you are a gifted commander. However…”

“The age of peace and prosperity our population enjoys thanks to your wise rule hasn’t provided you with many opportunities to showcase your warrior side,” Orata finished.

Smooth.

“Those who haven’t experienced combat are easily impressed by a superficial show of physical power,” Miralitt added.

“Surkar is impressive.” Kosandion glanced at Orata. “Make a hard copy of the ratings for me.”

“Yes, Letero.”

I had done some digging. The Hope Crushing Horde had settled a slew of planets, and Surkar and his delegation came from one of their frontier worlds. The power differential between Surkar and the Sovereign was enormous. With a single word, Kosandion could unleash an armada of ships that would block out the sun of Surkar’s homeworld. No amount of muscles, flexing, or roaring would save Surkar’s tribe from the hell that would rain down on them. And yet within the limits of this contest, Surkar was seen as the stronger of the two.

Orata got up, placed a small data cube in front of Kosandion with a bow, and returned to her place.

He waved at her to continue.

“Then we have the Gaheas, followed by the oomboles.”

“Really?” Kosandion asked.

Orata smiled. “The oomboles are bright and colorful, and a certain segment of the population thinks it would be funny if you married a fish.”

Kosandion chuckled.

“House Meer is seventh, the Higgra are eighth, the delegation from Kyporo is ninth.”

Team Frowns was from Kyporo, the sixth planet added to the Dominion. They were the ones with Ellenda, the Uma candidate. I would have thought the second of the Dominion’s home teams would’ve ranked higher.

“A poor showing for Kyporo,” Miralitt said.

“Ellenda comes across as unlikeable. The Murder Beaks are tenth, the Stranglers are eleventh, and the Children of the Silver Star are in last place,” Orata concluded.

The birds, the Dushegubs, and the Donkamins. Apparently, nobody in the Dominion could pronounce the Dushegubs’ proper name either.