Heather frowned, clearly offended by the implication she hadn't prepared an answer for. Her brows drew together, indignation gathering like a storm that had never once checked the weather forecast.
"That is irrelevant," she declared. "Power isn't bound by age. A king is a king. His age is a trivial detail compared to his duty to his country… and to me."
Chris inclined his head slightly. "So you do want to marry a man who could have reasonably parented you."
Several nobles nearby coughed into their drinks. One lady turned away entirely to hide a hysterical smile. Rowan looked at the ceiling like he was asking whatever divine authority existed why he had to witness this.
Sahir approached as if he were looking for popcorn to accompany the scene.
Heather opened her mouth, no doubt to deliver some grand declaration about destiny and royalty and how the universe would simply adjust to her demands, but Chris continued first, gently, reasonably, and devastatingly calm.
