Abandon
Looking away to the fire for a moment, you return to her concerned gaze and begin, “My dear Glory-Matron. You are surely the wiser of my two advisors. I understand your intention and I know that you are correct in your argument.”
Breaking to fetch more wine, you fill the goblets and offer one to her as you continue, standing before her and addressing her gravely, “However, my freedom of desire is what his given me the urgent drive to carve a real kingdom of the warring clans of Valantia. I would not stifle my independence at such a young and virile age. I have just begun to build my mighty empire, and, before all else, I will build it my own way, by my own power and destiny, not by whom I wed. I’m sorry, Mahlia, but at this time, I will not marry nor seek to. I enjoy my harem and will do so until I desire a royal son. Until such time, you know that I have named my lifelong confidant, Madred of Lutiand, as my Heir Apparent, to rule in the case of my sudden death. I trust Madred with my life and my kingdom.” You stop and drain your goblet and immediately refill it. Raising it to your obviously disappointed advisor you state, “Now, as your king, I forbid you to pursue or raise this topic again, until such time as I do, of my own intention.”
Bowing her head with a soft sigh, the senior nun replied, in a tone of defeat, “Yes my Lord. Your service is my only duty, and I will honor your wishes.”
Sipping gingerly at her wine, she stares into the dancing flames of the hearth. She turns back to you and suddenly blushing, drops her gaze to the floor. She speaks softly and timidly when she breaks the silence.
In the years you’ve known her, she has never spoken timidly, being well known for her forward and charismatic ways. She seems even embarrassed or ashamed as she says, “Now, my Lord, I have one other concern to discuss. It is not a political or military situation, but one more...”, she pauses and finishes her drink, starting again, “One of a more personal nature. If you have the time before your speech to the people, would you hear me, Lord?”
Breaking to fetch more wine, you fill the goblets and offer one to her as you continue, standing before her and addressing her gravely, “However, my freedom of desire is what his given me the urgent drive to carve a real kingdom of the warring clans of Valantia. I would not stifle my independence at such a young and virile age. I have just begun to build my mighty empire, and, before all else, I will build it my own way, by my own power and destiny, not by whom I wed. I’m sorry, Mahlia, but at this time, I will not marry nor seek to. I enjoy my harem and will do so until I desire a royal son. Until such time, you know that I have named my lifelong confidant, Madred of Lutiand, as my Heir Apparent, to rule in the case of my sudden death. I trust Madred with my life and my kingdom.” You stop and drain your goblet and immediately refill it. Raising it to your obviously disappointed advisor you state, “Now, as your king, I forbid you to pursue or raise this topic again, until such time as I do, of my own intention.”
Bowing her head with a soft sigh, the senior nun replied, in a tone of defeat, “Yes my Lord. Your service is my only duty, and I will honor your wishes.”
Sipping gingerly at her wine, she stares into the dancing flames of the hearth. She turns back to you and suddenly blushing, drops her gaze to the floor. She speaks softly and timidly when she breaks the silence.
In the years you’ve known her, she has never spoken timidly, being well known for her forward and charismatic ways. She seems even embarrassed or ashamed as she says, “Now, my Lord, I have one other concern to discuss. It is not a political or military situation, but one more...”, she pauses and finishes her drink, starting again, “One of a more personal nature. If you have the time before your speech to the people, would you hear me, Lord?”