Her words still weighed on him this morning though. Was her worry truly black bedrock, or did she have an ore of truth in her words?
It had him wondering if he should walk out there on that platform and become a part of this.
Would his family separate him from their line if he did this? They could.
It had been known to happen, a family separating a child from their line. Disputes that could not be resolved.
He hoped his parents would come around with his new mate.
Assuming it even worked.
Stron let his hand roll over his horn. The texture of the armored bone was strong, and while he felt marks that he'd acquired throughout life, they were still there, and they were fortified.
He'd survived plenty.
And he would survive more. He stood under the sheltered awning, far enough away from the landing platform where the Galactic Alliance ship would land, but close to where the others would come on the platform.
He remained to the side, not drawing attention to himself. He adjusted his robes, keeping himself in the shadows for the time being.
No one seemed to notice an overdressed Kantenan as others prepared for the arrival of the Galactic Alliance ship.
Maintenance workers milled about, almost jogging from this place to that. They checked on the different observation points. Others moved in and out of the nearby lounge, just off the landing platform.
Stron knew they would have introductions immediately, though he didn't know exactly how it would work. Would he have to sit there and wait for dozens of females to be paraded by him? Would he have to walk through them?
He assumed and trusted that Khalzin knew.
A dinner would be prepared for all the Galactic Alliance constituents. Probably peppered with speeches and formality that made Stron want to slam his head into a wall.
It was a long day of formal attire.
“Imagine meeting you here,” Patrie said from behind him.
He turned and she crossed to him, the bottom of her dress barely fluttered by the winds, and the family crest glinting in the early light.
“I have a reason. I wonder what you have?” Stron said. He hoped it was not because of him.
He had finished that relationship, and it was time for him to move on. For her as well.
“Don't flatter yourself. I am organizing the feast for the coming dignitaries. The Coalition requested that I oversee it personally.”
Stron nodded. Naturally, she oversaw the event. Sometimes, he wondered why the Coalition tried to be subtle with their agendas. It would be easier if they would just come out and insist that certain families unite, rather than attempt to push them together through circumstances and subterfuge.
“Interesting that you are overseeing the dignitaries that I am meeting.”
“A bit,” she said, a sly smile on her face. Her horns on her head started to pulse.
“The difference, though,” Stron said, “is that I am here to find a mate.”
Patrie stopped. “Wait, what?”
“I am one of the participants committing to an off-world partner.”
She blinked. “Why would you do that?” She took a few steps closer to him. “Is that why you ended things? Because of this?”
“No. I ended things because I was done.”
She blinked again. Her red skin seemed to get more brown-red around her hairline. “You ended things because you were done?”
