Dukat looked around. He didn't like having Ziyal out of sight--it seemed like 5 minutes ago she was thirteen and now, in an instant, had grown into a young woman. It took every fiber of his being to resist locking her in her quarters and throwing away the key. But, she was here. And she was his daughter. Family was everything. Even, it seemed, if they were responsible for ruining your entire political career.

He spotted her by a booth selling art supplies, and smiled, walking over to her. Dukat put an arm around her shoulders and looked down at her, and the items she was eyeing.

"See anything you like, my dear?"