"Your Majesty, this is my daughter, Elara," the noble said, his voice swelling with pride. The girl stepped forward, her golden hair cascading like a waterfall down her back, catching the light as she bowed her head. Hope flickered in her wide, innocent eyes, a glimmer of anticipation mixed with a hint of nervousness.
I forced a smile, though my heart was heavy with the weight of expectation. I was gathered here because, as the new king, I was expected to have a queen—or perhaps even two—by yesterday. It was a truth I could not escape, no matter how much I wished to avoid the reality of it all. These nobles had arrived in droves, eager to secure a match for their daughters, each vying for my attention like moths drawn to a flame.
"A fine choice, Your Majesty," the noble continued, gesturing as Elara took another tentative step closer. "She has been trained in the arts of diplomacy and etiquette. I assure you, she would be an asset to your reign."
