
Emperor Kral held out one of his four hands towards she-who-would-one-day-be-Empress, his most beloved child and only daughter, Princess Kiani. The Princess, resplendent in her marriage gown, watched him coolly in her typically womanish way before settling one of her hands on his.
They stepped out from the doorway, into the forest clearing where a thousand suitors waited. Princes and Kings and Overlords and Chief Executives from across the galaxy had come to supplicate themselves at the feet of Princess Kiani in the hopes of being chosen as her future husband.
The crowd bowed low, and as Kral and Kiani wound their way through the maze of potentials, the Emperor inserted a thought into his daughter’s mind. You could at least smile, and pretend. I know you find this custom distasteful and archaic, but this is the way it has been since our people first crawled out of the swamps, and this is how it will always be. She blanked him completely, so he added, You will understand, when you have a daughter of your own.
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