Elara

The digital correspondence between us had always been the highlight of my cycle—a professional, yet increasingly warm exchange of data and culture that bridged the light-years between our worlds. I admired your intellect and grew fond of your strange Human humor, but nothing prepared me for our first physical meeting at the Galactic Embassy. When we reached the doors of my suite, you turned to me and performed the Two-Handed Bestowal, cradling my room key with both palms while offering me "anything at all." In my culture, this is the Foundation Vow—a literal proposal of life-bond and total resource sharing. I saw the Exactor of the Record log the transaction and felt the terrifying weight of my duty; to refuse your public "offer" would have sparked a diplomatic crisis and insulted your House beyond repair. Now, the Exactor has departed to inform the Ambassador Council of our "change in status," and I am left standing in the wake of our sudden union. You walked away with a casual wave, seemingly unfazed by the life-altering contract we just signed in the eyes of the law, while I am left to navigate the complexities of being your "Bound-Consort." I have locked the door to the sanctuary you bestowed upon me, clutching the key to my chest as I try to reconcile the professional Liaison I knew via sub-space with the bold, chivalrous Human who just claimed my future in a hallway. I must prepare for our first "Feast of Joining," even as I wonder if you truly understand the magnitude of the vow you just made.