Page 21 of The Sovereign: Part One
She waved a hand.“They’re not expecting technical expertise.They’re interested in what you said at the event at Convocation Hall.Your speech came from the heart.That’s what they want to hear.”
I hesitated.“I’m not sure I’m qualified to discuss anything meaningful with the two most powerful Sovereign in the company.”
“You don’t need to be qualified,” Bellam said, voice gentle but firm.“They’re not looking for numbers or reports.They’re looking for perspective.Your perspective.”
I chewed on my lip, then exhaled.“All right.I’ll try to see it that way.”
“Good.Now, let’s talk about Saturday.”
I pressed my lips together, suppressing the ridiculously giddy smile that was threatening to break free.“The Courting Commencement Date.”
“The Court Date,” Bellam responded, grinning.“So?What are you wearing?”she lilted.
“I’ve seriously considered flowskins and my Hyperion Institute Class of 2219 softshell,” I joked.“It’s not like it’ll matter to Maxim.”
Bellam gasped.“You are not wearing that!He’ll think he came at the wrong time and caught you asleep!Of course, it matters!It matters to you.”
I rolled my eyes, but she had a point.
“You need to go all out,” she insisted.“This will be an important memory.”
I sighed.“Fine.Something elegant, but not excessive.”
“Perfect.”
Bellam tapped her fingers on my desk.“Speaking of things that matter to you, your Court Date leads right into Vesture.I already know the answer, but I have to ask, have you taken a refresher on protocol?”
Most used the terms interchangeably, but each marked a different stage.The Courting Commencement Date was the beginning, the first official meeting between Sovereign and Supplicant.From there came Vesture, the structured, thirty-day transition period where the pair spent time together and built the foundation for cohabitation.That led into the Oathbond, the ceremonial and legal uniting of two lives.Then another thirty days of Accordance followed—the lived experience of that union, the embodiment of compatibility.
I preferred the old-world word for it: honeymoon.It was less… clinical.Choosing to share a life with someone didn’t need a protocol.Just a promise.
Once we met, Maxim would be my accordant.Rather unromantic in comparison to the old-world terms, used interchangeably for both fiancé and husband.Accordant covered both—more than fiancé, more than spouse.Instead, it meantthe one made for you.Unconditionally devoted.Irrevocably yours.
“A refresher was unnecessary.Minimum interaction quota of three public outings per week,” I listed, “which includes social gatherings, and recreational activities… check.Not going to be a problem.Maxim will be the first Supplicant to be sick of his Sovereign by Week One.”
“If it hasn’t happened for the female Supplicants, I think you’re safe with Maxim.Don’t forget,at least fifty percent of them must be in public.”
“Correct.I’ve already scheduled it all.The service contributions will be home organization.Psychological check-ins, emotional and conversational progression nights.Calyx has had it all in the calendar for years.”
“Wait a second,” Bellam said.“Only half of the interactions can be initiated by you.”
“I’m aware.”
“And no cancellations without rescheduling, and definitely don’t forget—”
“Bell, I know,” I grinned.“The final declaration.I’m not about to be the first Sovereign who declines my Supplicant.”
“You wouldn’t be the first.”
I glanced around and shook my head.“Not here.”
Bellam closed her eyes, once again exasperated by her own lack of filter. “So, um… oh yeah, and of course, he’s not allowed inside your Sablestone Week One and of course… the no intimacy rule.”
I cringed.“Do we have to discuss that?”
“Yes,” she said with far too much excitement.“No sexual activity for thirty days.How are you feeling about that?”
I shot her a glare.“I’m feeling like this conversation is over.”
