The king sat at the head of the table, surrounded by his advisors on either side. Most of them wore displeased expressions.

One spoke up first. "Your Majesty, with all due respect, you aren't getting any younger. You haven't produced an heir to the kingdom, and your people are growing concerned. We advise that you find a suitable noble lady, sire. It has been long enough with this avoidance of the topic."

He regarded them with disinterest as he played with a feather quill between his fingers. He couldn't care less about their worries.

"And so what if the people are 'concerned'? If we're discussing their worries about my marital status, then perhaps I should express mine over your hairline. You're balding rather quickly, aren't you, Advisor? Speaking so boldly about my age as if I do not have plenty of time left."

The maid serving pastries and drinks stifled a laugh, pressing her fist to her mouth before regaining her composure. Some advisors coughed, struggling to conceal their laughter, while the poor man could only blush in response to the king's remark. He should have known better than to pressure him into discussing marriage again.

Another advisor stepped up as the room settled down. "Your Majesty, this marriage is of great importance. Your family has ruled over Darrow for many years. It is your duty to continue the line of successors."

The king leaned forward, resting his chin on the back of his hand. "If the only purpose of my marriage is as you say, then why does it matter if my queen is noble or not? Perhaps I should marry a commoner—would that make you old fools happy?"