Kardal hummed to himself as he leaned leisurely against his golden throne, his mother standing to his right and a long row of women before him.

His mother nudged him, giving him an impatient glare. He was meant to choose a woman from the kingdom. His mother had felt it necessary to organize this group as he’d rejected every woman presented to him. These were the only eligible ladies left in the empire. And he’d counted 22.

Kardal did not care for events like this. He did not value marriage. After all, he was powerful enough to thrive without a wife, so why force himself into such an inconvenient situation? Having a wife meant having a little rat scurrying around behind him and lingering in his chambers for longer than he’d like. Women were fickle things; as was love. He despised it.

He turned to his mother.

“I won’t see any of them.”

He declared, watching a few women flinch out of the corner of his eye before he turned and walked back into the palace.