I had not crossed to the table when I heard the Lord Netiniel protest when his entry was barred by the guards. It was not long until Ruelke, Alaren, Mariene and Leongrad entered, followed by Mesandre carrying a tray of food.
“The lords have taken my letter requesting they join me as an invitation to bring their sons to woo me,” I said bluntly. “I hope it is not universally so, but I suspect I will be disappointed. I will say it bluntly to you, now, that there will be no king of Uyan Taesil, I will not be marrying and transferring the responsibility for this war and my people to another. The prophecy from the Seers of Seigradh were not for a king, nor was Intuin Desparen made for one. Uyan Taesil will have a queen, and that is it.”
“Yes, princess,” Ruelke said with satisfaction as she bowed.
“Princess,” Alaren inclined his head. “Or, should I say, Queen Diandreliera?”